Office Drones and Tech Support.
Author: emocezi
Title: Office Drones and Tech Support.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1441
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: So I was looking at a bunch of pictures of Idris Elba today, which some of you probably know because I was picspamming his sexy ass all over my LJ. UNF. I could climb that man like a tree. Anywho, I came across this lovely picture and the rest is history.
Many thanks to amitrixwolf for putting up with my flailing.
Roque stared at his computer screen and wondered for the hundredth time why the hell Clay had figured he'd fit in the best here, pretending to be an office drone. Hell, Cougar would've been a better fit. But nope, Clay was probably half way across the city, flirting with some floozy and here he was, sitting in a cubicle in an itchy suit and a tie that felt like a noose.
His computer screen was blue, and Roque figured this must be the Blue Screen of Death Jensen was always screaming about. He bit back a sigh and with it the urge to drop kick the stupid machine out the nearest window. If he had five minutes alone with their target, he knew he could get the man to talk.
But instead, they were waiting for Jensen to work his way through the techno-halls of data to find the one file they were looking for. And of course, the building didn't have wifi, instead choosing to forgo advances in technology for further security. Ergo Roque sitting up here staring at his screen and wondering how far Jensen was on his end.
“You should call Tech Support.” Roque glanced over at the skinny little dweeb in a bright blue shirt. “To fix your computer. They....they can do that.” The kid swallowed nervously and abandoned ship. What was it Jensen was always muttering to himself when he thought no one else could hear?
“Fuck my life.”
XxX XxX
“Mr. Anderson?” Jensen glanced up at his supervisor and pasted what he hoped was a pleasant expression on his face. He'd been weeding through junk for the last week and having to put up with these idiots and their ideas on proper work attire and how to code a datastream had given him a constant thrumming headache.
“Yes.....Mr. Dillon?” He refused to call the man Sir. Point fucking blank.
“Someone up top is requesting you for tech support.” Dillion shoved the clipboard at him and left. Jensen barely managed to reign in the urge to stick his tongue out at the man and glanced down at the information printed there.
Mr. Smith
Thank fucking God. That meant Roque and not another brown nosing cubicle troll trying to impress the boss. Jensen whistled his way to the elevator, mood greatly improved with the thought of getting to talk to someone he actually knew.
XxX XxX
“Good afternoon Mr. Smith. How can I be of assistance today?” Roque raised an eyebrow at the polite tone of Jensen's voice.
“My computer won't work.”
“What did you do to it?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“I didn't do anything to it.” Roque narrowed his eyes and Jensen seemed to take the hint. He sighed, pushed at his glasses and shoved Roque out of the way to get into the tiny cubicle. Roque felt his lips twitch in a smirk and shoved it down. He had a reputation to keep.
“Aw baby, what did he do to you. Were you looking at porn?” Jensen's voice was just loud enough to be heard above the soft buzz of the air conditioning.
“Mr. Anderson.” Roque ground out and Jensen took the time to flash him a quick grin over his shoulder, fingers tapping against the keyboard.
“You do that better then Hugo Weaving.” Roque growled and Jensen hunched his shoulders. “Just saying. Okay, why is this still blue screening me?”
“Well did you break it's favorite scope?”
“That was an accident and Cougar knows I'm sorry.” Jensen huffed and pulled a small toolkit out of his pocket. “I'm gutting it. I have no idea what's going on here.”
Roque huffed out a sigh and leaned over the cubicle wall, watching Jensen work and wondering when the hell he could clock out of here without raising any suspicion. The hacker was cooing to the computer while he expertly stripped the outer casing off and started pawing through the various wires and circuit boards.
“What's wrong with it?”
“The motherboard crashed. See this here, one of the transistors melted all over the place. Just a tiny little piece of metal and plastic, but it's the heart and soul of this thing.”
“How fast can you replace it?”
“I can jury rig something up for you. It'll be crude at best, but it'll work. Providing you don't go doing my job for me.”
“There's no chance of that happening.” Roque muttered, glaring at the grey haired woman across the hall who glared right back at him. She sneered and he popped his knuckles. “Is it five yet?”
“Not for another couple of hours yet. Don't tell me you're getting tired of a little nine to five. You're doing less up here then me. Treat it like a vacation. Kick back, surf the web, look up porn, eat something that's bad for you.” Jensen's voice echoed a little from where his head was stuck under the desk.
Roque raised an eyebrow at the slight wiggle to his hips and ran his tongue across his lips. Wondering if he could make it to the water cooler and back before Jensen finished up here. He eyed the distance, gauging it at roughly a full minute with the return trip included.
“How much longer you got down there.”
“You can't rush genius. You got a piece of gum or something. Sticky tack...tape?” Jensen pulled his head out from under the desk to watch Roque walking away. He rolled his eyes, pushed his glasses back up and started pulling open drawers to see what he could use.
“Do..do you need any help?” Jensen glanced back over his shoulder at a kid in a blue blue, watching him out of wide brown eyes.
“Sure. I'm trying to attach this to this. But I have nothing to use as an adhesive, even though this should be soldered.” Jensen held up the two pieces he was working on and raised an eyebrow at the kid. “So if you have anything I can use, anything at all.”
“I...I have some umm, some super glue at my station.”
“That'll work perfectly.” The kid scampered off and came back with the small tube just as Roque wandered back. The boy in blue handed Jensen the tube and took off like the hounds of hell were chasing him, though Jensen personally thought it has something more to do with the glower Roque was wearing. “What crawled up your ass?”
“You done yet?”
“Give me a few minutes for this glue to set. Why're you being all angry face anyway?”
“I don't wanna be here.”
“Well fuck. You think I'm having fun down in that hell hole of a support center? The manager down there has it out for me cause I won't call him sir.” Roque snorted out a laugh at the thought of the hacker showing that level of respect to someone who wasn't wearing three bars or more and Jensen waved the tube of glue at him. “Exactly my point. Okay, that should about do it.” The hacker looked over at the clock. “Fuck, only ten minutes went by? Okay, I'm not going back down there.”
“Are you done looking for the information we need?”
“....I hate you so much right now.”
“I'm going to take that as a no. I suggest you get your ass onto that elevator and go finish your job.” Jensen's expression was precariously close to a pout and Roque started feeling cheerful again. “That wasn't a suggestion.”
“Fine.” Jensen managed to make himself sound like an angry child in a time out. He grabbed his clipboard and shoved it at Roque. “Sign that.” Roque scribbled off his fake signature and watched as Jensen marched over to the elevator and slouched against the wall. The elevator doors opened and Jensen walked inside. A sly look crossed his face and just before the doors slid shut he leaned forward. “You know, your computer wouldn't crash so much if you would just stay off those gay porn sites Mr. Smith.”
Roque clenched his hands into fists and glared the entire office into submission. He slouched into his computer chair, turned on the computer and smirked. Jensen was a brave little shit, he had to hand it to the kid, that was one hell of a parting shot. Not that he wasn't about to make him pay for it later.
Title: Office Drones and Tech Support.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 1441
Disclaimer: I do not own The Losers nor do I make a profit from this work of fiction.
A/N: So I was looking at a bunch of pictures of Idris Elba today, which some of you probably know because I was picspamming his sexy ass all over my LJ. UNF. I could climb that man like a tree. Anywho, I came across this lovely picture and the rest is history.
Many thanks to amitrixwolf for putting up with my flailing.
Roque stared at his computer screen and wondered for the hundredth time why the hell Clay had figured he'd fit in the best here, pretending to be an office drone. Hell, Cougar would've been a better fit. But nope, Clay was probably half way across the city, flirting with some floozy and here he was, sitting in a cubicle in an itchy suit and a tie that felt like a noose.
His computer screen was blue, and Roque figured this must be the Blue Screen of Death Jensen was always screaming about. He bit back a sigh and with it the urge to drop kick the stupid machine out the nearest window. If he had five minutes alone with their target, he knew he could get the man to talk.
But instead, they were waiting for Jensen to work his way through the techno-halls of data to find the one file they were looking for. And of course, the building didn't have wifi, instead choosing to forgo advances in technology for further security. Ergo Roque sitting up here staring at his screen and wondering how far Jensen was on his end.
“You should call Tech Support.” Roque glanced over at the skinny little dweeb in a bright blue shirt. “To fix your computer. They....they can do that.” The kid swallowed nervously and abandoned ship. What was it Jensen was always muttering to himself when he thought no one else could hear?
“Fuck my life.”
XxX XxX
“Mr. Anderson?” Jensen glanced up at his supervisor and pasted what he hoped was a pleasant expression on his face. He'd been weeding through junk for the last week and having to put up with these idiots and their ideas on proper work attire and how to code a datastream had given him a constant thrumming headache.
“Yes.....Mr. Dillon?” He refused to call the man Sir. Point fucking blank.
“Someone up top is requesting you for tech support.” Dillion shoved the clipboard at him and left. Jensen barely managed to reign in the urge to stick his tongue out at the man and glanced down at the information printed there.
Mr. Smith
Thank fucking God. That meant Roque and not another brown nosing cubicle troll trying to impress the boss. Jensen whistled his way to the elevator, mood greatly improved with the thought of getting to talk to someone he actually knew.
XxX XxX
“Good afternoon Mr. Smith. How can I be of assistance today?” Roque raised an eyebrow at the polite tone of Jensen's voice.
“My computer won't work.”
“What did you do to it?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“I didn't do anything to it.” Roque narrowed his eyes and Jensen seemed to take the hint. He sighed, pushed at his glasses and shoved Roque out of the way to get into the tiny cubicle. Roque felt his lips twitch in a smirk and shoved it down. He had a reputation to keep.
“Aw baby, what did he do to you. Were you looking at porn?” Jensen's voice was just loud enough to be heard above the soft buzz of the air conditioning.
“Mr. Anderson.” Roque ground out and Jensen took the time to flash him a quick grin over his shoulder, fingers tapping against the keyboard.
“You do that better then Hugo Weaving.” Roque growled and Jensen hunched his shoulders. “Just saying. Okay, why is this still blue screening me?”
“Well did you break it's favorite scope?”
“That was an accident and Cougar knows I'm sorry.” Jensen huffed and pulled a small toolkit out of his pocket. “I'm gutting it. I have no idea what's going on here.”
Roque huffed out a sigh and leaned over the cubicle wall, watching Jensen work and wondering when the hell he could clock out of here without raising any suspicion. The hacker was cooing to the computer while he expertly stripped the outer casing off and started pawing through the various wires and circuit boards.
“What's wrong with it?”
“The motherboard crashed. See this here, one of the transistors melted all over the place. Just a tiny little piece of metal and plastic, but it's the heart and soul of this thing.”
“How fast can you replace it?”
“I can jury rig something up for you. It'll be crude at best, but it'll work. Providing you don't go doing my job for me.”
“There's no chance of that happening.” Roque muttered, glaring at the grey haired woman across the hall who glared right back at him. She sneered and he popped his knuckles. “Is it five yet?”
“Not for another couple of hours yet. Don't tell me you're getting tired of a little nine to five. You're doing less up here then me. Treat it like a vacation. Kick back, surf the web, look up porn, eat something that's bad for you.” Jensen's voice echoed a little from where his head was stuck under the desk.
Roque raised an eyebrow at the slight wiggle to his hips and ran his tongue across his lips. Wondering if he could make it to the water cooler and back before Jensen finished up here. He eyed the distance, gauging it at roughly a full minute with the return trip included.
“How much longer you got down there.”
“You can't rush genius. You got a piece of gum or something. Sticky tack...tape?” Jensen pulled his head out from under the desk to watch Roque walking away. He rolled his eyes, pushed his glasses back up and started pulling open drawers to see what he could use.
“Do..do you need any help?” Jensen glanced back over his shoulder at a kid in a blue blue, watching him out of wide brown eyes.
“Sure. I'm trying to attach this to this. But I have nothing to use as an adhesive, even though this should be soldered.” Jensen held up the two pieces he was working on and raised an eyebrow at the kid. “So if you have anything I can use, anything at all.”
“I...I have some umm, some super glue at my station.”
“That'll work perfectly.” The kid scampered off and came back with the small tube just as Roque wandered back. The boy in blue handed Jensen the tube and took off like the hounds of hell were chasing him, though Jensen personally thought it has something more to do with the glower Roque was wearing. “What crawled up your ass?”
“You done yet?”
“Give me a few minutes for this glue to set. Why're you being all angry face anyway?”
“I don't wanna be here.”
“Well fuck. You think I'm having fun down in that hell hole of a support center? The manager down there has it out for me cause I won't call him sir.” Roque snorted out a laugh at the thought of the hacker showing that level of respect to someone who wasn't wearing three bars or more and Jensen waved the tube of glue at him. “Exactly my point. Okay, that should about do it.” The hacker looked over at the clock. “Fuck, only ten minutes went by? Okay, I'm not going back down there.”
“Are you done looking for the information we need?”
“....I hate you so much right now.”
“I'm going to take that as a no. I suggest you get your ass onto that elevator and go finish your job.” Jensen's expression was precariously close to a pout and Roque started feeling cheerful again. “That wasn't a suggestion.”
“Fine.” Jensen managed to make himself sound like an angry child in a time out. He grabbed his clipboard and shoved it at Roque. “Sign that.” Roque scribbled off his fake signature and watched as Jensen marched over to the elevator and slouched against the wall. The elevator doors opened and Jensen walked inside. A sly look crossed his face and just before the doors slid shut he leaned forward. “You know, your computer wouldn't crash so much if you would just stay off those gay porn sites Mr. Smith.”
Roque clenched his hands into fists and glared the entire office into submission. He slouched into his computer chair, turned on the computer and smirked. Jensen was a brave little shit, he had to hand it to the kid, that was one hell of a parting shot. Not that he wasn't about to make him pay for it later.