igrab
in
the_grrrrid
fic: Of Bowties, Trains, and Pajama Parties
title. Of Bowties, Trains, and Pajama Parties
author. igrab
characters. Flynn, Sam, Eddie Dillinger Jr (could be read as Ed/Sam)
wordcount. 1,527
"And what's your name?"
The boy was wearing a tiny starched white shirt and a bowtie and those little khaki shorts that every kid hates. Flynn had a fairly good idea who's kid this was, given the circumstances, but hey - don't judge a kid by his dad, right?
His eyes went big; he seemed to know who he was talking to. Flynn crouched down and smiled - hey, he didn't bite or anything. "E-Ed Dillinger Jr, Mister Flynn person sir."
Jeez, could the kid be any more adorable? He chuckled and held out his hand, nodding his head. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ed. Do you like being called Ed?"
He stuttered again but he did take Flynn's hand to shake, solemnly. "Eddie. Sir."
"Then just call me Mr. Flynn." He stood up and took a good look around the floor; what was Dillinger's kid doing all the way up here? I mean, sure, it was take your child to work day, but that didn't mean it was also 'take your child and let him wander around like he owns the place' day.
"Hey Dad! Look! I made a plane!"
Well, yeah, okay. Maybe it was 'take your child and let him wander around like he owns the place' day.
Flynn whipped around and scooped up Sam, who was making 'pew pew pew' sounds and wiggling a paper plane made out of - was that last month's invoice? Whatever.
As he turned back, though, he caught sight of the young Dillinger boy, and the look on his face was so yearning and wounded that any parent - any sane parent, according to Flynn - would have crumbled at it. Flynn set his son down, and held his shoulders back against his legs. "Eddie, this is Sam. Sam, this is my new friend Eddie."
His son, with his infinite wisdom and, uh, excellent timing, wrinkled his nose and said, "You're wearing a bow tie."
Which, okay, he was, but -
Little Eddie tipped his head back and said, in the perfectest of perfect condescension, "My daddy says I have to. It makes me look professional."
It was a moment, then, before Flynn realized that the condescension was for Dillinger Sr - not for Sam.
Sam, for his part, snorted and grinned his infectious little grin. "Professionally dumb."
Flynn laughed, okay. He couldn't help it. Eddie, after looking a bit hurt and confused, laughed as well, and then Sam sprang forward and unhooked the bowtie from Eddie's neck.
"Hey, do you like planes?"
Eddie's eyes lit up. "Y-yes?"
"Then come with me!" And Sam grabbed Eddie's hand and took off, right into the nest of cubicles that they definitely, definitely weren't supposed to be playing in.
Flynn straightened up and tried to see where they were going, but it was hopeless, they were gone now. Well, whatever. They were just a couple of kids. They wouldn't get into anything too damaging.
+
"Why does your dad make you wear that stuff, anyway," Sam said, when they'd gotten bored with running around the programming floors and made their way to Mr Flynn's office.
"I told you," Eddie said. "He wants me to look professional. That's what you wear when you go to work, right?" Sam had trains. Sam had so many trains and they were running all over his dad's office and Eddie loved trains so he was kind of not even paying attention at this point.
"Uh, my dad wears jeans." Sam gave him a look that pretty much suggested he had six heads, which made Eddie feel all weird and not very happy about trains at all.
"Oh." He looked down at his clothes. He really didn't like them - his dad made him wear his Nice Clothes whenever they went out to something important, and sometimes even more than that. They were itchy and stiff and he couldn't get them dirty, which meant he couldn't do anything fun. "...I don't have any jeans."
Sam's eyes bugged out. "You don't? Aw, man! Jeans are the best! Well, almost the best. Almost as good as pajamas, but pajamas are better." He frowned at Eddie. "You do have pajamas, don't you?"
"Duh." Well, they weren't nearly as cool as Sam's pajamas, which had Space Paranoids on them. Eddie knew that, because Sam was wearing them.
Sam gave him a very doubtful look.
"....Yes, okay, they're plaid."
He snickered, but it was different than the way that most people snickered. It was like he was laughing with him, or something. Not at him.
"Hey, guess what."
Eddie leaned closer, frowning. "What?"
"I have an extra pair of pjs you can wear, if you want." Sam's eyes just sparkled, and Eddie found himself caught up in his enthusiasm.
"Are they Space Paranoids pjs?"
"No-o." The other boy frowned at him. "....They're even better. They have Tron on them."
+
When Flynn got back to his office after his afternoon meetings (which, booooring), he found the boys in his office playing with trains - which he could have expected - but also both wearing pajamas, which he should have expected but somehow didn't. He sighed.
"Boys, boys, boys." He spread his hands. "You had a pajama party without me?"
"Dad," Sam said, because he hated it when his dad tried to be funny. "You weren't here, duh."
"How right you are!" And without further ado, Flynn opened his top desk drawer and pulled out his favorite silk dressing gown, and replaced his shoes with fluffy bedroom slippers. Never let it be said that Kevin Flynn was not prepared! "Well, boys. How would you like to learn how to write code?"
It wasn't until another hour had passed, after Flynn had finally gotten the boys off his lap so he could get some real work done (they both loved programming - soaked it up like little sponges) that Dillinger Sr walked in.
"Edward, there you are!" It seemed to take him a second to realize who's room he was in, but when he did, he did sort of a double-take - an embarrassed double-take.
Flynn wasn't having any of that. Didn't he know that their rival days were over? "Dillinger!" He twirled around in his desk chair, hands outstretched.
"....Flynn," the man muttered grudgingly. "I, ah - was looking for my son. It appears he's... safe and sound."
"Yup, nowhere safer." He looked over at where the boys, after that first initial 'hi dad' moment, had gone back to their trains. "Hey, you know, just between you and me - " and he leaned in closer, so the boys wouldn't be able to hear him. "Sam needs more friends, and they seem to get along pretty well, so. What do you say? Schedule a few play-dates?"
Dillinger's face was stiff as he responded, but really, what else could he say? And Eddie did look happy. "Sounds like a plan. Sir."
+
It was a Monday, the day that Sam Flynn strolled into the head offices of Encom in a t-shirt and jeans, his bike jacket slung over one shoulder. Everyone else in the highest positions seemed to be hunkering down further into their computers, not even sure what to do or what to make of their new CEO - but one man in particular, a young man, had stood up and come to lean in his office doorway.
"Flynn," he sneered, as Sam walked past.
Sam stopped and rolled his eyes. "Dillinger."
And then, suddenly, he was running back and tackling him in a huge hug, and Dillinger - Ed - was laughing, swiping his glasses free so Sam didn't totally crush his nose (again). "This is great, this is amazing, I mean, finally, but - "
"You saw the dog, right? What did you think of the dog?"
"Amazing." He pulled Sam back into his office and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Fantastic. I almost cracked up laughing. They were all pissing themselves and freaking out. But really, Sam, you outdid yourself this year. I could barely get around it. What did you - "
But Sam stopped him, held a finger up to his lips. "Later. We'll talk about it later. I gotta, you know." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at the elevator up to the CEO's office.
"Right, right." But his eyes were bright as Flynn left, and less than ten minutes later, his gmail flashed with a new message.
Why are you wearing a vest?
-Flynn
I, unlike some people I know, like to look professional.
-Dillinger
Sure, whatever. Professionally dumb.
-Flynn
You're impossible.
-Dillinger
You miss me.
-Flynn
Not anymore, Sam. Not anymore.
-Dillinger
author. igrab
characters. Flynn, Sam, Eddie Dillinger Jr (could be read as Ed/Sam)
wordcount. 1,527
"And what's your name?"
The boy was wearing a tiny starched white shirt and a bowtie and those little khaki shorts that every kid hates. Flynn had a fairly good idea who's kid this was, given the circumstances, but hey - don't judge a kid by his dad, right?
His eyes went big; he seemed to know who he was talking to. Flynn crouched down and smiled - hey, he didn't bite or anything. "E-Ed Dillinger Jr, Mister Flynn person sir."
Jeez, could the kid be any more adorable? He chuckled and held out his hand, nodding his head. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ed. Do you like being called Ed?"
He stuttered again but he did take Flynn's hand to shake, solemnly. "Eddie. Sir."
"Then just call me Mr. Flynn." He stood up and took a good look around the floor; what was Dillinger's kid doing all the way up here? I mean, sure, it was take your child to work day, but that didn't mean it was also 'take your child and let him wander around like he owns the place' day.
"Hey Dad! Look! I made a plane!"
Well, yeah, okay. Maybe it was 'take your child and let him wander around like he owns the place' day.
Flynn whipped around and scooped up Sam, who was making 'pew pew pew' sounds and wiggling a paper plane made out of - was that last month's invoice? Whatever.
As he turned back, though, he caught sight of the young Dillinger boy, and the look on his face was so yearning and wounded that any parent - any sane parent, according to Flynn - would have crumbled at it. Flynn set his son down, and held his shoulders back against his legs. "Eddie, this is Sam. Sam, this is my new friend Eddie."
His son, with his infinite wisdom and, uh, excellent timing, wrinkled his nose and said, "You're wearing a bow tie."
Which, okay, he was, but -
Little Eddie tipped his head back and said, in the perfectest of perfect condescension, "My daddy says I have to. It makes me look professional."
It was a moment, then, before Flynn realized that the condescension was for Dillinger Sr - not for Sam.
Sam, for his part, snorted and grinned his infectious little grin. "Professionally dumb."
Flynn laughed, okay. He couldn't help it. Eddie, after looking a bit hurt and confused, laughed as well, and then Sam sprang forward and unhooked the bowtie from Eddie's neck.
"Hey, do you like planes?"
Eddie's eyes lit up. "Y-yes?"
"Then come with me!" And Sam grabbed Eddie's hand and took off, right into the nest of cubicles that they definitely, definitely weren't supposed to be playing in.
Flynn straightened up and tried to see where they were going, but it was hopeless, they were gone now. Well, whatever. They were just a couple of kids. They wouldn't get into anything too damaging.
+
"Why does your dad make you wear that stuff, anyway," Sam said, when they'd gotten bored with running around the programming floors and made their way to Mr Flynn's office.
"I told you," Eddie said. "He wants me to look professional. That's what you wear when you go to work, right?" Sam had trains. Sam had so many trains and they were running all over his dad's office and Eddie loved trains so he was kind of not even paying attention at this point.
"Uh, my dad wears jeans." Sam gave him a look that pretty much suggested he had six heads, which made Eddie feel all weird and not very happy about trains at all.
"Oh." He looked down at his clothes. He really didn't like them - his dad made him wear his Nice Clothes whenever they went out to something important, and sometimes even more than that. They were itchy and stiff and he couldn't get them dirty, which meant he couldn't do anything fun. "...I don't have any jeans."
Sam's eyes bugged out. "You don't? Aw, man! Jeans are the best! Well, almost the best. Almost as good as pajamas, but pajamas are better." He frowned at Eddie. "You do have pajamas, don't you?"
"Duh." Well, they weren't nearly as cool as Sam's pajamas, which had Space Paranoids on them. Eddie knew that, because Sam was wearing them.
Sam gave him a very doubtful look.
"....Yes, okay, they're plaid."
He snickered, but it was different than the way that most people snickered. It was like he was laughing with him, or something. Not at him.
"Hey, guess what."
Eddie leaned closer, frowning. "What?"
"I have an extra pair of pjs you can wear, if you want." Sam's eyes just sparkled, and Eddie found himself caught up in his enthusiasm.
"Are they Space Paranoids pjs?"
"No-o." The other boy frowned at him. "....They're even better. They have Tron on them."
+
When Flynn got back to his office after his afternoon meetings (which, booooring), he found the boys in his office playing with trains - which he could have expected - but also both wearing pajamas, which he should have expected but somehow didn't. He sighed.
"Boys, boys, boys." He spread his hands. "You had a pajama party without me?"
"Dad," Sam said, because he hated it when his dad tried to be funny. "You weren't here, duh."
"How right you are!" And without further ado, Flynn opened his top desk drawer and pulled out his favorite silk dressing gown, and replaced his shoes with fluffy bedroom slippers. Never let it be said that Kevin Flynn was not prepared! "Well, boys. How would you like to learn how to write code?"
It wasn't until another hour had passed, after Flynn had finally gotten the boys off his lap so he could get some real work done (they both loved programming - soaked it up like little sponges) that Dillinger Sr walked in.
"Edward, there you are!" It seemed to take him a second to realize who's room he was in, but when he did, he did sort of a double-take - an embarrassed double-take.
Flynn wasn't having any of that. Didn't he know that their rival days were over? "Dillinger!" He twirled around in his desk chair, hands outstretched.
"....Flynn," the man muttered grudgingly. "I, ah - was looking for my son. It appears he's... safe and sound."
"Yup, nowhere safer." He looked over at where the boys, after that first initial 'hi dad' moment, had gone back to their trains. "Hey, you know, just between you and me - " and he leaned in closer, so the boys wouldn't be able to hear him. "Sam needs more friends, and they seem to get along pretty well, so. What do you say? Schedule a few play-dates?"
Dillinger's face was stiff as he responded, but really, what else could he say? And Eddie did look happy. "Sounds like a plan. Sir."
+
It was a Monday, the day that Sam Flynn strolled into the head offices of Encom in a t-shirt and jeans, his bike jacket slung over one shoulder. Everyone else in the highest positions seemed to be hunkering down further into their computers, not even sure what to do or what to make of their new CEO - but one man in particular, a young man, had stood up and come to lean in his office doorway.
"Flynn," he sneered, as Sam walked past.
Sam stopped and rolled his eyes. "Dillinger."
And then, suddenly, he was running back and tackling him in a huge hug, and Dillinger - Ed - was laughing, swiping his glasses free so Sam didn't totally crush his nose (again). "This is great, this is amazing, I mean, finally, but - "
"You saw the dog, right? What did you think of the dog?"
"Amazing." He pulled Sam back into his office and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Fantastic. I almost cracked up laughing. They were all pissing themselves and freaking out. But really, Sam, you outdid yourself this year. I could barely get around it. What did you - "
But Sam stopped him, held a finger up to his lips. "Later. We'll talk about it later. I gotta, you know." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, at the elevator up to the CEO's office.
"Right, right." But his eyes were bright as Flynn left, and less than ten minutes later, his gmail flashed with a new message.
Why are you wearing a vest?
-Flynn
I, unlike some people I know, like to look professional.
-Dillinger
Sure, whatever. Professionally dumb.
-Flynn
You're impossible.
-Dillinger
You miss me.
-Flynn
Not anymore, Sam. Not anymore.
-Dillinger