10) Back in the U.S.A

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Tuesday, 8am:

After a late, nine hour delay back in Brisbane, the plane finally touched down on American soil shortly after lunch. As Dastardious went to grab a cab, Dutch tried to adjust himself to the sudden change in time. They had flown for twenty hours to end up fourteen hours in the past, or something like that. He wasn't used to such things and the thought of it all made him feel queasy and close to throwing up, he wasn't given the chance, however, as Dastardious grabbed him and their bags and shuffled them into a taxi.

'We'll get you settled into a place to stay and then I've got to head into the office and let them know that I've finally arrived back,' Dastardious told him as they settled into the back seat of the car. 'I didn't arrange a place for you to stay as I didn't know you'd be coming back with me so you can sleep on the couch. You don't snore, do you?'

'Snoring would imply I sleep,' replied Dutch slowly.

'Do you?'

'Snore?'

'No, sleep.'

Dutch shook his head. 'I haven't really slept a wink since... you know?'

Dastardious snorted. 'Death affected you that much?'

'I wouldn't really know, it's not like I've made it a living, hey?' shrugged Dutch.

'Back to the original question which is an important one, do you snore?'

'I generally leave it for other people; I've never enjoyed that part of sleep, when I sleep.'

'I'm going to keep you to that,' Dastardious told him. 'You'll sleep on the couch.'

'Whatever you say.'

Turning to look out of the window, Dutch admired the city they were passing through. He had been in Brisbane on a number of occasions, the last one being to attend court to find out what his sentence was, but New York was a completely different world. Brisbane didn't even compare to what he was seeing as they drove along a road called the Franklin D. Roosevelt East River Drive. On the left they were passing docks, some of them, he was told, anyway. As they drove past he was able to make out a heavy commotion that was happening around a large cargo ship, but then, everywhere he looked some sort of commotion was happening. If he was to hunt for a serial killer then there wasn't another city around that he would rather do it in. This seemed the place for him.

Presently they arrived at Dastardious's home and Dastardious opened the door of the taxi and was out on the pavement before the car had stopped moving. He hadn't fallen out; he had simply opened the door and stepped out. He had kept his balance all through it and was waiting at the front door as Dutch stepped out and started to unload.

'It's not very impressive,' he remarked, looking up at it.

'No one asked it to be,' Dastardious told him, fishing around in his pocket for the right amount to pay the driver. Finding not enough, he gave the man what he had. Then, grabbing Dutch by the arm he pulled him into the building. Behind them came the cry of a man who had just noticed that he had been short changed.

'Did you do something?' asked Dutch as he was herded into the elevator.

Dastardious waved the question away dismissively. 'Why should I do something? I don't even know him.'

Once they arrived at the floor, Dastardious unlocked his apartment door and led Dutch into the sitting room.

'This is the lounge, bathroom is through there, my bedroom, and the kitchen,' Dastardious pointed them out as he walked past them.

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