Chas was sprawled out on the bed he and John shared, reading the bookcase's latest choice - something about guitar-playing for dummies. It wasn't that interesting, but it was something to do that wasn't walking or swimming.

Chas was sprawled on the bed in his and John's room. The weather was still lousy and he was tired of reading books. So he slept. And dreamed.

( Requiem )

Snow. Chas could hardly believe his own eyes but there it was. Actual snow on a desert island. Back to wearing his flannel and jacket, he wandered outside.

"Oh fuck you right back, did you hear me complaining?" Chas said, opening the door to their room and gesturing for John to enter.

Continued from here

( London. 1969. The Chandler Residence. )

Chas walked into the room he and John shared, running his hand through his damp hair. He'd taken the opportunity to go for a quick dip in the ocean while John was off doing John-type things.

"John love, you here?"

Chas was on a mission. It was a dangerous one, to be sure, frought with palm trees, sand and sunburned noses. Still, the end would be worth it, because there would be Roger, birthday plans and if he was lucky, some extracuricular activities.

"Roger?"

Continued from here.

Chas shivered at the feel of John's hands on his shoulder. He pressed against John, not yet willing to cede control.

Our erstwhile cabbie shows up here, confused as all hell. He meets Chase, Temperance, Aerin and runs into his old mate, John Constantine.

John takes him to his room to ostensibly catch him out. Things get a little spicy. Then Chas panics and takes off.