Static

Then he'll expect me to come along.
 The last thing I'd expect - hell! The last thing I'd want is to haul your big, dumb ass up a mountain - Nate began.
 So now it's mountain climbing, is it? Brandon lifted one eyebrow.
 And if I don't come along, then I'll get a phone call later. 'I'm stuck on a ledge, but don't tell anyone', Aje mimicked.
 Nate said reasonably, That only happened once. It could've happened to anyone -
 Brandon looked at him pityingly. 'Anyone?'
 He was just lucky his phone wasn't out of range or he would've been out there all night.
 Go to hell, Aje, Nate said genially.
 You're telling me his phone was charged? It actually worked? Brandon asked dryly. Only thing I find surprising.
 Who the hell dumps on a ledge, anyway? What'd you think you were doing there? Aje gave him a mocking smile. Brandon really wants to know.
 Brandon doesn't give a shit, Brandon replied, so long as Brandon doesn't have to winch you off any ledges.
 Pollution studies. Measuring lichens. Nate grinned. No coprophilous fungi involved.
  Whatever - Hubert. Aje grabbed his coat off the rack. Let's just say I have plans for Saturday.
 Anyone I know? Brandon asked him.
  Known her for years, Nate supplied. First name's Play. Last name's Station.
 You should be so lucky, Aje retorted. Not that it's any of your business, but her name's Antoinette -
 First name Marie? Nate offered helpfully.
 - and I met her at the Club.
 Brandon grinned, and yanked open the dilapidated door.
 Aje peered out. Damned streetlights are out again. He scowled at Nate. Why don't you complain? Then he flicked the porch light switch, only to find it was out, too. Is this thing broken again?
 Surges? Brand suggested. Lights in your house, too?
 Pop all the time, Nate admitted.
  Damned fire trap, Aje complained. Let me out of here.
 You should move to a better part of town, Brand said.
 And have you guys visit me more often? No thanks. Besides, Nate added, munching on an apple he'd taken out of his pocket.
 I've seen him put other stuff in that pocket, Aje muttered distastefully.
 Nate grinned. Relax. It's been washed.
 Besides -? Brandon prompted.
 Nate looked at him blankly for a moment, then remembered. Some neighbours might object to my hobby.
  I can't understand why you don't keep that crap at work, with your other stinking fungus.
 Contamination. Nate took another noisy bite.  Nobody wants dung in their lab.
 Brandon looked at the apple, and shook his head. I'd better go before my nachos do. He rubbed his stomach.  Thanks for the snack - I think.

***

 Communing with nature. Nate loved these times, when he could get out, and see only open spaces around him. As much as he liked working in the lab, there were too many constraints - like being in a box. Not only the workspace, but the protocols - the procedures. All systematic, all carefully mapped out. All scientific, and all about proof. Repeatable, verifiable, measurable proof. Proof that frequently required analysis on a computer.
 Which is why he relished the freedom of his coprophilous studies. They were a type of systematics research he'd been introduced to as an undergrad, and that he'd really enjoyed. No matter how well he could predict what kind of fungus would grow out of a piece of rat or dog or elephant dung, there were always surprises. So far, he'd discovered eleven new species.
 In contrast, now that he knew which techniques he could use, there wasn't all that much that was new about the stuff he was doing down at work. Mostly verifications of plant diseases. Testing for specific proteins. They'd learned early on not to let him near any of the computers, spectrophotometers, or electrophoresis gels.