Re: FILL: The New Hire - Rated T - Part 6/10-ish?
anonymous
November 11 2010, 23:29:36 UTC
Tim shut the door. “They’ve already given you an office?”
“Not quite,” said Sherlock, adjusting his scarf. “Nobody’s using the meeting room, so I borrowed it for a little bit. Explains why the heat’s not on.”
“Ahh. David lent you a key?”
“Not quite. I’ll talk to Neil about updating the locks. Too easy to pick.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Tim slumped into a chair across from Sherlock. “So how can I help you?”
“I understand you’re the entire reason I’m here,” said Sherlock. “And I’m going to ask you to knock it off.”
“What, me?!” blurted Tim.
Sherlock nodded. “You’re surprised.”
“Yes!” cried Tim. “Not every day somebody calls me a common criminal.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” said Sherlock.
“Says you?” laughed Tim. He scoffed, “Unreal.”
“When I came in for an interview, you were having an extended conversation with Gareth about modern warfare,” said Sherlock. “The conversation was laced with sexual innuendo, a detail Gareth seemed unaware of, but I was focused on your hands. There were slight dents in thumb and pointer finger, in a shape that implied it wasn’t from a pen or pencil.”
Tim skeptically glanced at his hands.
“The dents have long faded,” said Sherlock. “But your hands aren’t exactly the hands of somebody who’s good with a set of tools. And your sort of job isn’t necessarily the sort of job that would require tools, anyway.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a Swiss Army Knife. “So it seemed rather obvious what this was for.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Where did you...?”
“Nicked it off you when you were poking fun at Gareth,” said Sherlock, flipping out the screwdriver head. “Wasn’t surprised to find it there. If somebody’s willing to hire a new security guy over a cookie jar, no doubt he’d search your desk. I figured I would find something. I’d say that the head of this thing is just small enough that you’d be able to get to the screws in the cookie jar.” He looked past the screwdriver to Tim. “Though I suppose you’d know more about it than I would.”
Tim blinked and stared at Sherlock dully before leaning forward and asking, “So what’s the point to all this? Am I seriously in trouble for nicking the top of a cookie jar?” He scrunched his face up in realization as a sudden thought crossed his mind. “Wait, can I even get in trouble for something that happened before you showed up?”
“Here’s my point,” said Sherlock, leaning on his palms and standing over Tim. “I was called in because of you, but after today, I’ve found that you’re the least of my concerns. Your company barely even had security cameras, let alone where they mattered. There are a lot of behaviors I’ve seen that break all kinds of company policy, and possibly even a law or two, and based on what I’ve witnessed, this has been going on for months, at least. And I’m the only dedicated security guy here, so this all falls on my shoulders. Which means I’ve got a lot more to worry about than a bunch of stale biscuits.”
The fingers on Sherlock’s left hand balled up into a fist on Tim’s desk. Sherlock sighed, attempting to compose himself.
“So if you could kindly stop with the childish disappearing act,” he said, “I’d very much appreciate it. One less thing to worry about.”
With that, Sherlock walked out of the room without another word, leaving Tim alone at the long, empty meeting table.
“Tim?” asked Dawn, glancing behind her as she sneaked into the room. She sat on the table in front of him. “Hey, everything all right? Just saw Sherlock storm out of here, and he didn’t look happy.”
Slowly, Tim began to giggle as he stared at the tube of super glue that had slipped out of Sherlock’s coat pocket. “Yeah. I think everything’s going to be just fine.”
“Not quite,” said Sherlock, adjusting his scarf. “Nobody’s using the meeting room, so I borrowed it for a little bit. Explains why the heat’s not on.”
“Ahh. David lent you a key?”
“Not quite. I’ll talk to Neil about updating the locks. Too easy to pick.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Tim slumped into a chair across from Sherlock. “So how can I help you?”
“I understand you’re the entire reason I’m here,” said Sherlock. “And I’m going to ask you to knock it off.”
“What, me?!” blurted Tim.
Sherlock nodded. “You’re surprised.”
“Yes!” cried Tim. “Not every day somebody calls me a common criminal.”
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” said Sherlock.
“Says you?” laughed Tim. He scoffed, “Unreal.”
“When I came in for an interview, you were having an extended conversation with Gareth about modern warfare,” said Sherlock. “The conversation was laced with sexual innuendo, a detail Gareth seemed unaware of, but I was focused on your hands. There were slight dents in thumb and pointer finger, in a shape that implied it wasn’t from a pen or pencil.”
Tim skeptically glanced at his hands.
“The dents have long faded,” said Sherlock. “But your hands aren’t exactly the hands of somebody who’s good with a set of tools. And your sort of job isn’t necessarily the sort of job that would require tools, anyway.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew a Swiss Army Knife. “So it seemed rather obvious what this was for.”
Tim’s eyes widened. “Where did you...?”
“Nicked it off you when you were poking fun at Gareth,” said Sherlock, flipping out the screwdriver head. “Wasn’t surprised to find it there. If somebody’s willing to hire a new security guy over a cookie jar, no doubt he’d search your desk. I figured I would find something. I’d say that the head of this thing is just small enough that you’d be able to get to the screws in the cookie jar.” He looked past the screwdriver to Tim. “Though I suppose you’d know more about it than I would.”
Tim blinked and stared at Sherlock dully before leaning forward and asking, “So what’s the point to all this? Am I seriously in trouble for nicking the top of a cookie jar?” He scrunched his face up in realization as a sudden thought crossed his mind. “Wait, can I even get in trouble for something that happened before you showed up?”
“Here’s my point,” said Sherlock, leaning on his palms and standing over Tim. “I was called in because of you, but after today, I’ve found that you’re the least of my concerns. Your company barely even had security cameras, let alone where they mattered. There are a lot of behaviors I’ve seen that break all kinds of company policy, and possibly even a law or two, and based on what I’ve witnessed, this has been going on for months, at least. And I’m the only dedicated security guy here, so this all falls on my shoulders. Which means I’ve got a lot more to worry about than a bunch of stale biscuits.”
The fingers on Sherlock’s left hand balled up into a fist on Tim’s desk. Sherlock sighed, attempting to compose himself.
“So if you could kindly stop with the childish disappearing act,” he said, “I’d very much appreciate it. One less thing to worry about.”
With that, Sherlock walked out of the room without another word, leaving Tim alone at the long, empty meeting table.
“Tim?” asked Dawn, glancing behind her as she sneaked into the room. She sat on the table in front of him. “Hey, everything all right? Just saw Sherlock storm out of here, and he didn’t look happy.”
Slowly, Tim began to giggle as he stared at the tube of super glue that had slipped out of Sherlock’s coat pocket. “Yeah. I think everything’s going to be just fine.”
-=-=-
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