For starters, Charles had slept well beyond dawn, and the morning rays coming in through the window were a clear indication that it was probably getting on toward ten or eleven AM.
And secondly, he was dressed in pajama pants. With tiny stars on them. Compound clothes box or not, this was ridiculous. He was sure there had to be a decent pair of boxers. Or, well...anything else.
After hopping out of bed and doing some push-ups, Charles figured it was time to head to the compound for a change of clothes and for lunch. And maybe Agents Walker and Casey would be up for some kind of training. Target practice, perhaps. Just because they were on the island didn't mean they could slack off.
Someone could show up and come for the intersect at any time. Any place.
He changed into a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt for the trip, and paused once he'd gotten outside, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked at the motorcycle parked next to the hut.
Walk to the compound? Preposterous.
He didn't know why he hadn't started riding the bike that he'd gotten for Christmas sooner. Easily hopping on, he closed the top and raced up to the compound.
The day was young, and there was a lot to do.
[Find him pulling up to the compound. Open to anyone.]