Stage (2/6)
anonymous
September 22 2011, 13:54:53 UTC
This was how it would go: Charles would get to the conference room, read a book while everyone else got there. Lehnsherr would sweep by, imperious, and hand them the day's assignment. Charles would do his team's work while the other two necked at each other. Charles, at various point in the day, would go out on coffee runs.
It wasn't too bad. It was actually quite nice. Most of the people there quite liked him, and he tried to smile at everyone, because that was polite. Some of the older ones tried to talk to him about his career plans and gave up quickly when they found out he was interested in genetics. 'Why did you come here, then?' they asked him several times, and Charles had to assure them he was interested in everything, really.
He found out that he was replacing the man who'd told him that he'd be getting coffee every day. His name turned out to be Henry McCoy, and he gave Charles a nervous grin when Charles came in the next day with a green tea frappe with extra whipped cream.
"You hand over the receipts to the front desk," he was told, "right- did you pay for the coffee on the first day?"
Charles answered that he had.
"Right, you'll need to ask Lehnsherr for that money," McCoy told him with not a little schadenfreude. Charles thought he'd rather not get paid at all, but that was about forty dollars of money. He sighed and thanked McCoy before heading to the third floor, where Lehnsherr's office was.
"Why on earth am I required to run an article on this?" he heard Lehnsherr's soft, deadly voice over the phone as he approached. "I fail to see the relevance of this. We run a local paper. This is not the fucking Times... no, I don't care about your ambitions... Not to mention that this isn't even my area. We are not a biology textbook. Don't waste my time... do you want a firestorm over this? No, I don't give a flaming fuck about your..."
Charles decided he'd come back the next day.
Evidently Lehnsherr had lost that argument, because when Charles came into the office he found the desk strewn with articles on stem cell research. They were all the wrong articles. Whatever Lehnsherr might be looking for... dear Christ, was this Ask Yahoo? He sifted through the printouts, frowning.
He was writing down a list of recommended websites and books on a Post-It note when the door swung open and cast a shadow of someone's head on Lehnsherr's horribly comfortable-looking leather chair.
"Excuse me," Lehnsherr said freezingly. "What are you doing?"
Charles looked up. Swallowed. "I..."
Lehnsherr shut the door behind him and folded his arms. "Are you an intern?"
Charles found his mouth quirking. "Well, yes."
"Then explain what you're doing here."
"My first coffee run," Charles said, just keeping himself from stuttering. "I spent 41 dollars on that. I don't have a whole lot of money. Er. I was told to come to you for that."
Lehnsherr blinked, long and slow. "You hand in the receipt at the front desk."
"I didn't know that on the first day. I threw it out."
Lehnsherr gave an annoyed shrug and came over, taking out his wallet. Charles felt sheepish and cheap, but 41 dollars was a lot of money for a student.
It wasn't too bad. It was actually quite nice. Most of the people there quite liked him, and he tried to smile at everyone, because that was polite. Some of the older ones tried to talk to him about his career plans and gave up quickly when they found out he was interested in genetics. 'Why did you come here, then?' they asked him several times, and Charles had to assure them he was interested in everything, really.
He found out that he was replacing the man who'd told him that he'd be getting coffee every day. His name turned out to be Henry McCoy, and he gave Charles a nervous grin when Charles came in the next day with a green tea frappe with extra whipped cream.
"You hand over the receipts to the front desk," he was told, "right- did you pay for the coffee on the first day?"
Charles answered that he had.
"Right, you'll need to ask Lehnsherr for that money," McCoy told him with not a little schadenfreude. Charles thought he'd rather not get paid at all, but that was about forty dollars of money. He sighed and thanked McCoy before heading to the third floor, where Lehnsherr's office was.
"Why on earth am I required to run an article on this?" he heard Lehnsherr's soft, deadly voice over the phone as he approached. "I fail to see the relevance of this. We run a local paper. This is not the fucking Times... no, I don't care about your ambitions... Not to mention that this isn't even my area. We are not a biology textbook. Don't waste my time... do you want a firestorm over this? No, I don't give a flaming fuck about your..."
Charles decided he'd come back the next day.
Evidently Lehnsherr had lost that argument, because when Charles came into the office he found the desk strewn with articles on stem cell research. They were all the wrong articles. Whatever Lehnsherr might be looking for... dear Christ, was this Ask Yahoo? He sifted through the printouts, frowning.
He was writing down a list of recommended websites and books on a Post-It note when the door swung open and cast a shadow of someone's head on Lehnsherr's horribly comfortable-looking leather chair.
"Excuse me," Lehnsherr said freezingly. "What are you doing?"
Charles looked up. Swallowed. "I..."
Lehnsherr shut the door behind him and folded his arms. "Are you an intern?"
Charles found his mouth quirking. "Well, yes."
"Then explain what you're doing here."
"My first coffee run," Charles said, just keeping himself from stuttering. "I spent 41 dollars on that. I don't have a whole lot of money. Er. I was told to come to you for that."
Lehnsherr blinked, long and slow. "You hand in the receipt at the front desk."
"I didn't know that on the first day. I threw it out."
Lehnsherr gave an annoyed shrug and came over, taking out his wallet. Charles felt sheepish and cheap, but 41 dollars was a lot of money for a student.
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