Hjalmar swore.It was the oldest church still standing in the city, and Hjalmar knew what touching something this old would do to him.
One time, before Frode had fully understood how his skill worked, he'd touched a door handle to a concert hall.It was a relatively new building, but it had been there long enough.His family had been called to the hospital.The doctors hadn't been able to figure out what was wrong.How could someone be unconscious when there was nothing obviously wrong with them?
Fun times.
He'd learned his lesson.It was the last time he'd gone outside without gloves.Most often, he wore gloves inside too.
"I'm okay."
"We're having lunch."
Frode scrunched his nose."You should go back to work."
"We arehavinglunch.I'm not going anywhere until I see you."
"Have you any idea how exhausting you are?"
Hjalmar hummed."So you told homicide to go fuck themselves?"
"I did not.I only said: Nope.Then I left.I talked a little to...eh...the happy blond dude."
"The happy blond dude?"
"Yeah, you know the one.He's been with homicide for a few years, pretty cute if a bit too bouncy."
Hjalmar groaned."Isaac Elmore.You've worked with him several times.Maybe it's time to learn his name."
Frode smiled for the first time in ages."Nah, I think we're good."
Hjalmar snort-laughed."Lunch at Overtime?"
Overtime was nearby.It would only take him a few minutes to walk there.
"Fine.You're buying."
"Always."
They hung up, and Frode looked up at the church tower one last time before walking down the uneven road toward the newer parts of town.Soon, he was on paved ground instead of cobblestone.The buildings grew taller, the roads wider, and there were people.Ugh.
He tucked his chin against his chest and continued forward until the gaudy colors of Overtime stared back at him.He wasn't opposed to sports; he liked watching hockey, kept track of the football scores, and so on, but he preferred to watch the games at home in his house, on his TV, with no people around.
Hjalmar was allowed to watch with him, but going to a bar like this came pretty high on his list of things he never wanted to do.
He pushed open the door and scanned the tables.No Hjalmar.Fuck.He nodded at the woman behind the bar and headed for a table in the corner.Should he order?Nah, better wait for Hjalmar.If he was called away, Frode would go home instead of eating here.
No more than two minutes later, Hjalmar and Nikolai fucking Nesterova walked through the door.When Hjalmar's gaze met his, he scowled.Hjalmar shrugged and winced, and Frode started to slide off his chair, ready to leave.
"Sit."
"I'll eat at home instead."
Hjalmar reached for him but never made contact--always so careful."Sit.You can have a fucking meal together without killing each other."
Frode stared at him.Why did he want him to be anywhere near Nikolai?And what the fuck was Nikolai doing here?He'd made it clear he didn't want Frode on the case.
"Why waste my time with fucking Nesterova?The two of you can have lunch, and I can enjoy the rest of my day without having idiots around."
Hjalmar's eyes widened."Eh...You're eating.I won't let you leave without you having eaten something."
