darlin', I'd still catch a grenade for ya
Title: Darlin', I'd Still Catch a Grenade For Ya
Rating: G (Honestly, my brain is a children's movie)
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo-ish (Pre-slash if you squint)
Word Count: 584
Disclaimer: This is fiction, I don't own anything, I'm not making a profit, and I'm disappointed about all of the above.
Notes: Written for a prompt from fayestardust when we were bored. The prompt was: Eduardo works at Facebook again, someone asks nasty questions about his prior involvement with Facebook, and Mark defends him. Which is basically a summary of the story, I suppose, so that saves me from writing one of those. Onward!
Eduardo tightened his grip on the podium. “What?”
The reporter repeated his question. “Some analysts have said that your behaviour during the early days of Facebook threatened the company to the point that it’s - a gamble, really, to give you a job here again. What do you have to say to defend yourself?”
“I don’t want to comment on that,” Eduardo replied flatly. “That’s not what this press conference is about.”
“Would you say you were out of step with the direction the company was going at the time?” A female reporter chimed in.
“No,” said Eduardo tightly, “and I’m not answering questions about that.”
“Looking back now, would you concede that Mark Zuckerberg made the right call by removing you from direct involvement with Facebook?” The reporter pressed closer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eduardo saw movement. He stepped aside, surprised, as Mark took the podium.
“It’s been years,” Mark said flatly, addressing the suddenly quiet crowd of reporters. “There’s no conceivable way that’s still a news story.” There was a brief silence. Mark glanced at Eduardo, then back out at the sea of media. “Mr. Saverin is a valued employee of Facebook and he’s here to talk about the new privacy safeguards. If you can’t string together a relevant question, maybe you’re in the wrong field of work.”
He stood there for long enough that Eduardo had to clear his throat slightly. Mark looked around at him, frowned, and then took a step back, allowing Eduardo to reclaim the microphone. A reporter threw out a softball question about privacy in relation to branding. The rest of the press conference passed without incident.
When it was over, Mark made a beeline for the exit so that he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. Eduardo ducked out too and caught up with him in the hallway.
“Hey,” he said.
“Yeah,” Mark replied, turning to face him.
“Thank you.”
Mark gave a quick jerk of his head that could be loosely interpreted as a nod.
Eduardo chuckled softly. “I wasn’t sure you had ever fully stopped thinking that I did something wrong.”
Mark stilled. “I haven’t.”
Eduardo hadn’t expected that to feel like whiplash. He shut his eyes. “Mark.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Mark replied levelly.
“Then why did you defend me?” Eduardo demanded, feeling something raw threaten to break open.
“I said I still thought that you did something wrong,” Mark said. There was a faint note of impatience in his voice. “I never said that I didn’t forgive you for it.”
Eduardo looked at him. “Do you ever think that we were both wrong?” He asked softly.
“Of course,” Mark said immediately. “But we were young and kind of dense, Wardo. I did a lot of stupid things when I was nineteen that I regret now. I drank two cases of Old Milwaukee in a weekend and fell through a window and I wouldn’t do that again, either.”
Eduardo stared. “Are you comparing terminating my employment and the subsequent massive lawsuit to a bad bender?"
“Would you say they’re dissimilar?” Mark returned.
Eduardo considered it, trying not to smile. “Maybe not.”
Mark shrugged as if that proved his point.
“What now?” Eduardo asked.
“Lunch,” Mark said succinctly.
That wasn’t what Eduardo had meant, but as he followed Mark down the hall, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t that important to talk about it. At least they were speaking again; at least they were cautiously friends. Everything else would fall into place.
Rating: G (Honestly, my brain is a children's movie)
Pairing: Mark/Eduardo-ish (Pre-slash if you squint)
Word Count: 584
Disclaimer: This is fiction, I don't own anything, I'm not making a profit, and I'm disappointed about all of the above.
Notes: Written for a prompt from fayestardust when we were bored. The prompt was: Eduardo works at Facebook again, someone asks nasty questions about his prior involvement with Facebook, and Mark defends him. Which is basically a summary of the story, I suppose, so that saves me from writing one of those. Onward!
Eduardo tightened his grip on the podium. “What?”
The reporter repeated his question. “Some analysts have said that your behaviour during the early days of Facebook threatened the company to the point that it’s - a gamble, really, to give you a job here again. What do you have to say to defend yourself?”
“I don’t want to comment on that,” Eduardo replied flatly. “That’s not what this press conference is about.”
“Would you say you were out of step with the direction the company was going at the time?” A female reporter chimed in.
“No,” said Eduardo tightly, “and I’m not answering questions about that.”
“Looking back now, would you concede that Mark Zuckerberg made the right call by removing you from direct involvement with Facebook?” The reporter pressed closer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eduardo saw movement. He stepped aside, surprised, as Mark took the podium.
“It’s been years,” Mark said flatly, addressing the suddenly quiet crowd of reporters. “There’s no conceivable way that’s still a news story.” There was a brief silence. Mark glanced at Eduardo, then back out at the sea of media. “Mr. Saverin is a valued employee of Facebook and he’s here to talk about the new privacy safeguards. If you can’t string together a relevant question, maybe you’re in the wrong field of work.”
He stood there for long enough that Eduardo had to clear his throat slightly. Mark looked around at him, frowned, and then took a step back, allowing Eduardo to reclaim the microphone. A reporter threw out a softball question about privacy in relation to branding. The rest of the press conference passed without incident.
When it was over, Mark made a beeline for the exit so that he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. Eduardo ducked out too and caught up with him in the hallway.
“Hey,” he said.
“Yeah,” Mark replied, turning to face him.
“Thank you.”
Mark gave a quick jerk of his head that could be loosely interpreted as a nod.
Eduardo chuckled softly. “I wasn’t sure you had ever fully stopped thinking that I did something wrong.”
Mark stilled. “I haven’t.”
Eduardo hadn’t expected that to feel like whiplash. He shut his eyes. “Mark.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Mark replied levelly.
“Then why did you defend me?” Eduardo demanded, feeling something raw threaten to break open.
“I said I still thought that you did something wrong,” Mark said. There was a faint note of impatience in his voice. “I never said that I didn’t forgive you for it.”
Eduardo looked at him. “Do you ever think that we were both wrong?” He asked softly.
“Of course,” Mark said immediately. “But we were young and kind of dense, Wardo. I did a lot of stupid things when I was nineteen that I regret now. I drank two cases of Old Milwaukee in a weekend and fell through a window and I wouldn’t do that again, either.”
Eduardo stared. “Are you comparing terminating my employment and the subsequent massive lawsuit to a bad bender?"
“Would you say they’re dissimilar?” Mark returned.
Eduardo considered it, trying not to smile. “Maybe not.”
Mark shrugged as if that proved his point.
“What now?” Eduardo asked.
“Lunch,” Mark said succinctly.
That wasn’t what Eduardo had meant, but as he followed Mark down the hall, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t that important to talk about it. At least they were speaking again; at least they were cautiously friends. Everything else would fall into place.