The ringing of his bedside telephone dragged Benjamin Stark by
force out of the depths of a pleasant but instantly-forgotten dream.
He blinked into the darkness, found the phone by the light of its keypad
(which flashed an electroluminescent blue in time with the bleat of the
ringtone), and lunged toward it.  In the darkness, he misjudged the
distance somewhat and ended up on the floor, then reached up without
comment and retrieved the receiver, content to take his call from the
floor.
        "... hello."
        "Mr. Stark?" came the voice of Henry Rausch.  "Sorry, did I wake
you?"
        "No, no," Stark replied, rubbing his face.  "Gravity took care
of that."
        "Pardon?"
        "Nothing, never mind.  Had a late night last night.  Finished a
major project, celebrated by taking in a local band at a club in
Harajuku... and judging by the state of my head, held up the Stark
family honor in the process... what's up?"
        "Thought you'd like to be informed soonest - the rest of the
tower interior still needs a month or so of work, but StarkWire HQ is
ready for you to move in."
        Stark grinned, the news (and a couple of neuroprocessor-aided
adjustments to his endocrine system) making a good start on banishing
his hangover.  "Henry, your timing couldn't be better.  Bonuses for
everybody.  For God's sake don't tell Chiba, though.  They'll have poor
Nishimura and his crew over here moving all my stuff on Sunday again."
        Stark completed the call, fumbled at the endtable until he'd put
the phone more or less away again, then got a hand on the edge of the
bed and dragged himself up to sit down.  He knew there were things he
ought to get up and do, but he also knew that what he most -wanted- to
do was take a couple of Advil and go back to sleep.
        At length, he sighed and got to his feet.  No time like the
present, after all, and besides, he did have a lot to get done.  Finding
the room control next to the phone in the dark, he switched the room's
windows from full black to 3/4, letting in just enough light to find his
way to the bathroom.
        "nngh, god damn.  bright," a voice croaked from the other side
of the bed.  Stark glanced over to see a fold of covers dragged into
position to ward off the dim glow, leaving only a smudge of dark hair
visible between comforter and pillow.
        "Sorry," Stark said quietly, smiling.  He paused at the bathroom
door to re-black the windows from the control panel there.  "Go back to
sleep."
        "damn right."

-Z looking forward to the new installment... whenever it arrives

Help fight Multiple Sclerosis. Sponsor my ride
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If G-d had wanted us to think for ourselves, He'd have given us brains.