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Post by wordy on Nov 3, 2009 1:47:10 GMT 10
Title: 9 to 5 Rating: PG13 Summary: modern day AU. Kel is a new staff member at a publishing house in the city. A/N: I've been thinking about writing an AU like this for a while now (I've seen something similar work well in the Merlin fandom) and thought I'd give it a go/make myself a starting block. Hopefully it'll eventually get a few more chapters. It's a bit dodgy at the moment, so bear with me CHAPTER ONE"Morning, sunshine," Neal's dry voice startled Kel from behind, causing her to slop coffee down her shirt. She glanced up at him in irritation and held the soggy material away from her skin. It was just her luck; she had to sit in on a meeting later this morning, and now she would have a big brown coffee mark down her front. "Thanks a lot, Neal," she fumed, slamming the jug back in its holder and manouvering around him to get a paper towel, "Now everyone will think I'm some kind of slob." She scrubbed at the wet mark in vain. "Everyone already thinks that," he replied, unconcerned, helping himself to some coffee. The jug was almost empty now, causing him to frown; Neal was not a morning person, and could be rather disagreeable before he'd had at least two cups of coffee. "Why did you have to go and waste all that coffee, Kel - how am I supposed to go and face Cavall like this?" Kel ignored his remark pointedly, more concerned with how she was going to walk around the office all day with a huge coffee stain on her shirt. She looked down at the stain with a sigh and the stain stared back. Well, it wouldn't be going anywhere until she got it home and into the washing machine. Sunlight streamed in through the only window in the staffroom, making it look more disgusting than usual. Most of Kel's department were men who obviously didn't know how to clean up after themselves. Neal, finished doing battle with the coffee machine, sat himself down at the plastic table and leaned back comfortably, loosening his tie with one finger. Kel tossed her used paper towel in the bin and sat down across from her friend, feeling miserable. At least she hadn't got runs in her stockings. Yet. "You know, Katherine, if you could figure out how to work the coffee machine without hurting yourself, you would be regarded as a saint around here," Neal remarked. She wanted to tell him not to call her by her full name, but she didn't. He was only teasing her, as he often did. She also wanted to tell him not to cross his arms like that and wrinkle his shirt, but a small, selfish part of her mind told her that if she had to walk around looking like a human coffee stain then he could surely do with a rumpled shirt. It was stupid, but felt like a small victory to Kel. "Why do you have to see Cavall anyway?" she asked. Neal rolled his eyes. "Who knows. The bastard delights in torturing me. Although," he leaned across the table conspiratorially, "I've heard that they might be wanting new blood to head up the HR department soon." Kel stared at him, then snorted. "And you think they're training you for it or something? You, head of Human Resources? Everyone would be scared away as soon as they applied for a job." "Cavall was the one who told me to look out for you," he answered, " And you haven't run off. Surely that counts for something." "Well, maybe I'm tougher than most new recruits." Kel looked at her watch. "I have to go - the meeting's in five and I'm supposed to be taking notes or something equally dull." "Have fun," Neal waved lazily at her as she got up, "Make sure to smile at your superiors, I've heard they like that sort of thing." Kel shook her head at her friend's odd sense of humour; it was no wonder Cavall might be trying to steal Neal away to the HR department - someone had to beat some people skills into him, after all. She left Neal in the staffroom and headed back to her desk to pick up a notepad before the meeting. Some of the other juniors or interns had laptops, but Kel could write faster by hand. As she searched through the papers on her desk - when had she gotten so messy, it had only been a week since she started here - her hand knocked over her pencil tin, scattering pens and pencils on the carpet. Kneeling down carefully in her skirt, she thrust them all back into the tin impatiently. At the desk next to her, a young man with a pale, pointed face observed her without interest, having made no move to help her. She shoved the tin back on her desk a little too forcefully, causing a cascade of papers to drift off the other side and land on the floor. Today was going badly. Having finally organised her desk so that no more paper landslides would occur, Kel headed down the main hall toward the conference room, notepad and pen in hand. The white walls and blue carpet were bland to look at already, and her first week here wasn't even over yet. Nearing the conference room, she reached for the handle to the door when she found it being pulled away from her from the other side. She snatched her hand back, trying to act composed. And there, standing tall in a dark suit and blue tie that brought out his eyes, was the boss himself - Jonathon Conte - holding the door open for her and looking impatient. Inside the room, she saw that everyone else was already seated. Kel gulped and walked inside.
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Post by Lisa on Nov 3, 2009 3:03:26 GMT 10
Wow... I don't read AUs often, I'll be the first to admit - but there are some that are so much fun because you want to see how everyone lines up within the notional scenario. This is one of those, I think. (the PotS crew is so much fun!)
Must have more!!
(one question, though - why Katherine? There are other modern names that naturally shorten to Kel - Kelley, Kelsey - was there a reason you went for something so linguistically different from Kel? Just curious...)
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Post by ubiquitous on Nov 3, 2009 8:39:21 GMT 10
Ooh, interesting set up! Great fic so far!!
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Post by wordy on Nov 3, 2009 8:54:40 GMT 10
Thanks guys! @lisa: My sister has a friend called Katherine who everyone knows as Kel, and I just chose that because I like it. *shrugs*
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Post by greenie on Nov 3, 2009 8:54:48 GMT 10
Ooh, this is really interesting! Can't wait to see what happens next!
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Post by theantichris on Nov 3, 2009 10:38:06 GMT 10
What a fascinating AU! I love it.
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Post by Verasque on Nov 3, 2009 19:36:08 GMT 10
Oh, yum. An awesome start to a modern AU Keep writing!!
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Post by wordy on Dec 16, 2009 9:24:57 GMT 10
A/N: I went on a writing spree yesterday and managed to write up to Chapter 6, so I'll be updating every day or so. CHAPTER TWO“Now, as I was saying, Sales and Marketing has been doing extremely well this year,” Jonathon announced to the room, while Kel hurried to the closest spare seat, “which I’m sure we can attribute to Alanna, who managed to raise Veldine’s sales by 5%.” Everyone around the table nodded and murmured agreement, except for the woman sitting across from Kel. Dressed sharply in a grey suit, the woman was frowning slightly at Jonathon Conte’s words. Her vibrant red hair was just long enough to brush her shoulders, and she wore a pair of delicate pearl earrings. From the way that the other people around the table glanced furtively at the woman, Kel assumed that she must be the Alanna that Jonathon Conte was referring to. Jonathon Conte, having evidently seen the unhappy way that the red-haired woman was looking at him, cleared his throat and continued. After a moment of listening intently, Kel remembered that she was supposed to be taking notes. She began scribbling furiously. “Our next concern before Christmas,” Jonathon continued, “is the closing of the deal with Tirragen.” There was a round of muttering at this, and Kel spied the red-haired woman’s frown deepen. “I know, I know, we had planned for it to be finished two years ago, but I’m afraid we have run into numerous difficulties with the client. We will be done by Christmas though, and by the new year each department will have their instructions and we’ll be well on the way to printing.” There was a knock at the door. The people seated around the table took this as an opportunity to speak loudly to each other while Jonathon Conte conversed with the junior at the door. Kel, not knowing anyone to talk to, took this as a chance to look around the room. There were about twenty people seated around the table, most of them middle-aged or older. Next to the red-haired woman – Alanna, Kel reminded herself – sat a broad shouldered man with black, tightly curled hair and eyes of the same colour. The two of them were speaking softly to each other, though every now and then the man would let out a loud chuckle and slam his hand down on the table. Next to the big man sat another man, who was shuffling and reshuffling his stack of papers and muttering to himself. The only remarkable thing about this man, besides being almost as broad in the shoulders as the first man, was a rather large moustache that covered his top lip. Moustaches were not very common in this day and age, but rather than make the man appear comical or sinister in a villain-stroking-his-moustache kind of way, the moustache seemed to suit him well. Kel formed the opinion then, that this man was an educated, intelligent man who could be relied upon for almost anything, and was definitely not the sort to be bad-tempered. Since this man was seated at the end of the table, Kel turned her attention back to the person seated on the other side of Alanna. To her surprise, the man sitting on Alanna’s other side was much older than anyone else at the table. He seemed, however, not at all deterred by his age and was listening intently to the conversation happening between the two men beside him. Kel thought that perhaps he only appeared to be rather old, as she knew well that looks could be deceiving. She made a mental note to ask Neal later about the old gentleman. The two men whom the old man was listening to seemed unremarkable enough, so she passed by them. Kel was leaning forward slightly to look at the next person when a voice spoke quietly next to her ear: “Baird Queenscove. I believe I’ve seen you with his son, my dear.” Kel startled at the voice; she had been paying no attention to the man seated next to her, who until then had been making his own notes in a black notebook, difficult for her to read in his slanted, cursive handwriting. She looked at the man now and smiled, feeling a little embarrassed to be caught analyzing everyone so. The man smiled back at her in such a friendly manner, his eyes crinkling with mirth, that she felt a little bit better. However, despite his saying that he’d seen her before, Kel was quite sure that she had never in her whole week of working here seen him. She told him so. The man laughed jovially and stroked his beard. Kel couldn’t help but smile with him; the man seemed so friendly and good-natured that she couldn’t help it. “Well, my dear,” the man said, who had introduced himself to her as Myles and shook her hand, “you may not have seen me around because I am – according to some who work here, and even some of my closest friends, which may shock you – apparently rather sneaky.” He let out a chortle and looked around the table. Kel smiled again, though she didn’t quite know what to make of his words; he was a chubby sort of man, with hair and beard long enough for a wizard, and he wore his suit rather uncomfortably – in short, he did not at all appear to be the sneaky type. What was more, he had a stain on his tie, and what appeared to be crumbs in his lap. He seemed an odd sort to Kel, but she decided that she liked him. Before she could ask him about Baird Queenscove - the man he had said was Neal’s father - or even about the old gentleman across the table, the sound of the door slamming and the sight of Jonathon Conte walking back to the front of the room made everyone cease their talking and resume an attentive attitude. Kel raised her pen to her paper once more. “I’m afraid we must break up earlier than planned today,” he said, “So I will see you all next week, you’ll receive a memo as soon as I check my schedule.” And with that, everyone around the big table started to talk again and get up from their seats; the people seated nearest to the door had already started to file out of the room. Kel, a trifle stunned at the sudden end to the meeting, closed her notebook and got up as well. She turned to say something to Myles, but he had already vanished. Sneaky indeed, she thought. As an intern and at the bottom of the food-chain, Kel was one of the last to leave the conference room. As she was exiting, however, she got a quick glimpse of Alanna in her striking grey suit talking heatedly to Jonathon Conte, while the moustached man watched, piling his stack of papers into a black briefcase. Before she could see more of the scene or wonder at what was going on, she found herself caught up in the flow of people, pushed from the doorway, and down the carpeted hallway.
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Post by greenie on Dec 16, 2009 9:36:42 GMT 10
Oooh, yay! I love this. Can't wait for more!
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Post by Lisa on Dec 16, 2009 10:25:09 GMT 10
Oh, I was just thinking this morning how I wanted more of this story. I love Duke G.
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Post by Verasque on Dec 16, 2009 12:07:58 GMT 10
Yus! An update Keep going!
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Post by wordy on Dec 17, 2009 11:36:57 GMT 10
Thanks guys! CHAPTER THREE“It wasn’t relevant,” Neal told her when Kel asked about his father working for the company. “You never asked me what my father did; it never came up in conversation, so that’s why you didn’t know. Besides, sometimes when people find out that my father works here they like to…insinuate that I had a foot in the door.” They were on lunch. Neal had somehow arranged it so that he could have his half hour for lunch at the same time as Kel, every day except for Thursdays. “Bloody Cavall,” he had said, “That man has it in for me, I swear.” After the meeting, Kel had returned to her desk. She had looked at the notes she had scribbled down and found that she could hardly understand them. So, watching the clock until eleven – which signaled the start of her lunch break – Kel had laboured through the difficult task of deciphering her handwritten notes, squinting at the paper and then typing a few words into a word document, before bending over the paper once more to frown at the black scrawls she had put there. Time seemed to go ever so slowly as she waited for the hand of the clock to make its way to the twelve. Eventually it got there, and Kel quickly saved the word document and practically sprung from her seat, took the lift downstairs and met Neal waiting at the door. Kel bit into her sandwich. “Well,” she said eventually, after chewing and swallowing, “I don’t think that at all. It sounds kind of nice, like a tradition or something.” “Hmm,” said Neal. “I suppose. Although it sounds less tradition-y to me, because I know that father tried to convince my two brothers to get into publishing and the like, but they had other plans. So he just has to make do with me.” “Surely he isn’t just ‘making do’ with you, though?” “Oh no,” Neal replied, leaning back to rest his long arms along the back of the bench. “He doesn’t think that. Or maybe, he doesn’t know that he thinks that. But he does,” Neal finished. Kel looked at her friend. He was a bit odd. “Anyway, we’re not the only dashing father and son duo that work here, you know. There’s the Naxens, for a start,” he added. “The Naxens?” she asked. Neal sipped his coffee before answering. “Yes. You might have seen Gary, Gary Junior, I mean, around the place. Kind of big fellow, excellent moustache.” “Oh!” said Kel. The moustached man from the meeting, who had been shuffling papers and seemed to know what he was doing. “Yes, I’ve seen him,” she said, “Is he important?” “Fairly. He does all sorts of paperwork, accounting, legal advising, and so on. I think he does some secretary-like stuff for the boss as well,” Neal said. Kel took another bite of her sandwich as she thought. So that must be why Gary was still there when Alanna and Jonathon Conte were arguing after the meeting today. Gary probably knows both of them, not to mention a whole lot about the company and everyone who works there. “But wait,” said Kel. “Who’s Gary’s father then? I haven’t seen anyone who looks like him.” She tried to picture an older version of Gary, white haired with an impressive white moustache. Surely she would have seen someone like that walking about the office. Neal was looking at his watch forlornly; counting down the minutes until he had to get back to work, no doubt. “Oh, you won’t see old man Naxen unless you’re lucky. According to father, he should be dead by now, he’s old enough. Still gets around though, apparently. Fit as a fiddle.” She thought back to the meeting, and of the old gentleman sitting next to Alanna. Could that be Gary’s father, Gary Naxen Senior? They seemed nothing alike, although she hadn’t seen much of either of the two men, or heard them speak. And if Gary Senior was so old, why was he still with the company? Surely he would have been able to retire years ago, for Kel knew that the company made more than enough money. Jonathon Conte himself has said that they were doing well, and Kel’s own salary was slightly better than what some of her friends had experienced at other places. It was definitely something to think about. Maybe she could ask Myles about it, if she saw him again. Neal rose with a sigh, throwing his empty coffee cup into the bin next to the bench. He looked nice in his suit, maybe even handsome. Kel was sure that some of her female friends would love it if Kel introduced them to Neal. She shook that thought away quickly though; it was best to keep work and her personal life separate, which included friends. “Well, back to the grindstone,” said Neal. He ran a hand through his hair, gave Kel a wave, and crossed the street, hands planted firmly in his pockets. Kel watched him go then looked back at her sandwich. It suddenly looked less appetising with the prospect of going back to the office looming ahead of her. Kel had been looking forward to this job since she had finished university, eager to get into the ‘real world’ and the publishing industry. Things had kind of fizzled off though, and it had only been a week since she had started. It was difficult; starting at the bottom, doing the work that no one else wanted to or had time for. Often, she would find that she was feeling sorry for herself, like she was now. She tossed her sandwich in the bin, feeling slightly bad about the waste. There’s no time to mope about! She tried telling herself firmly. Work hard, and things will be looking up. She thought of Alanna, the red-haired woman from the meeting. That was something she could aspire to. One day, Kel promised, I’ll be where Alanna is. Successful. Confident. At the top. And doing what I love. With that positive thought in mind, Kel left the bench and headed back to the office.
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Post by greenie on Dec 17, 2009 13:21:05 GMT 10
Hee, I especially love the bit at the end with Kel aspiring to be like Alanna.
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Post by Lisa on Dec 17, 2009 23:11:02 GMT 10
I'm so utterly fascinated and delighted by this. Pleasepleaseplease have Owen working in the mail room. He'd be so cute. ::puppy dog eyes::
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Post by wordy on Dec 18, 2009 7:50:45 GMT 10
Ooh, I might just do that! I haven't put Owen in it yet CHAPTER FOURKel’s typing was improving considerably. She thought so, at least. During all her years of schooling, she had managed to get by without touch-typing, which had suited her just fine, but now she was getting better. Every now and then she would glance up at her computer screen, fix the few typos that she had made, and carry on. After a bit, she would look at the clock on the wall. It was a boring clock, like the rest of the office was boring. The black hands made their way around the white face so unbearably slowly. It was three o’clock, the same time when she had checked before. Knockoff time was four o’clock. Kel returned to her typing with a barely contained sigh. After finishing her notes from the meeting that morning, she had e-mailed them to her superior. She had then returned to her usual work, which was editing. It gave her eye-strain to stare at the computer screen so much, but most of their clients preferred to e-mail their drafts, because they were lazy and because it saved paper. Unfortunately, as an intern and one of the lowest on the corporate food-chain, it fell to Kel to edit and correct the basic word and sentence level errors in the most boring documents. After she had done that, she would send it to the next person, who would edit and correct the next level errors, and so on until it reached the more important editors and was deemed fit to be published. The chapter that Kel was editing at present seemed to be some kind of non-fiction book about pandas. Thrilling. Rubbing her eyes – she was starting to get a headache – Kel looked at the clock once more. It was half past three now. She stole a look at the young man at the desk next to her. He was talking on his phone and looking at his computer screen with a disinterested expression on his pale face. He was quite a pretty young man. But he also looked like the sort of young man who you would not call pretty to his face. He had very blonde hair that was almost white, and his shoes were always very shiny. Kel returned her eyes to the computer screen, but her mind stayed on her pale, blonde neighbour. They had never spoken to each other. Once, on Tuesday, they had been alone in the lift together for three whole floors, but he had said nothing to her, not even looked at her. She had been too nervous to speak up herself, so they had stood there in silence. Kel wondered if she should talk to him. They were neighbours, after all. She looked across at him again. Maybe not. She got the feeling that he might not like her. Which was probably absurd, but speaking to him and creating conflict would be worse than their mutual silence. Perhaps, Kel thought, she should talk to some other people. Make some friends. Her only friend at work was Neal, and she was sure that on some days they would get sick of each other. Yes, she decided, she would talk to some other people, the other interns or juniors, and make some friends at work. Maybe then she wouldn’t be counting down the hours until she could go home. This thought was forgotten though, when Kel looked to the clock and saw that it was finally four o’clock. Making friends could wait until tomorrow. “Are you sure you don’t want a lift?” Neal asked. Kel looked at his beat-up Commodore and shook her head. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, and started walking to the bus stop. The bus ride home was uneventful. It was crowded, but Kel managed to get a seat early on. It was still rather unpleasant to be stuck amongst all the sweaty, swaying bodies. She had finally managed to extract herself in time to get off at her stop, and took a deep breath of fresh air when she had stumbled off the bus in her heels. From there, it was only a block to her house. “Yuki, I’m home!” Kel called when she got inside. Since she had started university nearly four years ago, Kel had lived with her friends Yuki and Merric. After a rough start with a few arguments (mostly about washing, cleaning, and grocery shopping) the three of them had eventually settled into a sort of routine. Apart from the occasional friend of Yuki’s who stayed over, they were practically a family. Dropping her handbag on the small dining table, Kel chucked her house keys in the bowl and slipped of her shoes. She wiggled her stockinged toes in relief. “How was work?” Yuki asked, emerging from the kitchen. Delightful smells wafted after her, making Kel’s mouth water; it had been agreed years ago that Yuki would make dinner each night, since she was usually the first to arrive home. Her long black hair piled haphazardly on top of her head, Yuki wore a cream silk camisole tucked into a floral skirt; in her free time, she liked to design and make her own clothes. On many occasions, she had tried to convince Kel to wear things that she had made, but Kel always felt awkward in her friend’s pretty, delicate things. Now, Yuki and Kel sat down at the table. The two of them had been friends since childhood, something that Kel thanked the heavens for nearly every day. She had found it much easier to make friends when she was younger. Yuki listened as Kel quickly gave her a run-down of her day at work. When Kel had finished telling her of her plans to make some friends at work, Yuki chewed on her fingernail for a second before suggesting, “Why don’t you have a party?” Kel screwed up her nose. “A party? I don’t think…” “Oh, but it would only be a few people from work,” Yuki interrupted eagerly, “and it could be more like a dinner party, if you like. I could help you organise it.” Kel studied her friend’s eager face thoughtfully. Yuki would have time to plan a party, for she was presently unemployed. She was the sort of girl who flitted from job to job, not wanting to stay anywhere that didn’t feel right to her. Her last job had ended a few weeks ago, as a secretary at an art gallery in the city. Yuki put on a sad puppy dog face and looked at Kel pleadingly. “We’ll see,” Kel said finally, making Yuki squeal in delight. She jumped up and gave Kel a hug before hurrying back into the kitchen to finish dinner. Kel watched her go, shaking her head. Before she would allow Yuki to plan anything, Kel would have to make some friends at work first. Then she would give it a few weeks. After that, and only then, would she let Yuki start planning. Picking up her shoes, Kel headed to her bedroom. A nap before dinner was just what the doctor ordered.
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Post by greenie on Dec 18, 2009 7:55:58 GMT 10
Oooh, can't wait to see what happens with people at work!
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Post by ubiquitous on Dec 18, 2009 14:44:48 GMT 10
Ooh! I can't believe I missed the last few chapters! I'm loving this so far!
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Post by Lisa on Dec 19, 2009 5:48:27 GMT 10
Ack - I'm flailing with excitement. Please post more soon!! ::flail, flail::
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Post by wordy on Dec 19, 2009 16:11:41 GMT 10
Wheee excitement! ;D
CHAPTER FIVE
Kel had sincerely hoped that there would be no more talk of a party for quite a while, but her hopes were shattered abruptly when Merric arrived home from work later that night.
“Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” he said, shoveling down his reheated dinner and watching the tv out of the corner of his eye. “Can I invite some people then?”
“No,” said Kel.
“Of course!” said Yuki.
Kel looked at her friend. This party idea was getting entirely out of hand.
“Just think Kel, if Merric and I invited some friends too, it would be much more fun. Your friends from work would be sick of talking to each other all the time. It would spice things up a bit!” Yuki said merrily.
“Yuki,” Kel said warningly, “I haven’t made any friends at work yet, remember? If this party goes ahead, it won’t be for ages yet. Just don’t get ahead of yourself.”
Kel related her woes on the subject to Neal before work the next morning. He was in a better mood than the day before, largely because Kel had managed not to spill all of the staffroom’s coffee down her shirt, and he was now sitting at the plastic table, freshly made coffee in hand.
“A party sounds okay,” he said, to Kel’s frustration. “But not too soon, and you have to be careful who you invite from around here.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, sipping her own hot coffee carefully.
“Look, I’ll help you out with that when the party gets closer,” he said. “Just don’t do anything stupid before then.”
Kel frowned at him, which made him smirk back at her.
“If I want your opinion,” she began irritably, but stopped suddenly when a tall, redheaded man walked in. The man walked over to pour himself some coffee, whistling cheerfully. Neal nudged Kel and motioned toward the redhead. Kel scowled back at him. Neal shook his head at her sorrowfully, as if deploring her antisocial behaviour. Leaning back dangerously in his chair, Neal nudged the man with his now-empty coffee mug, “Morning Cleon! Think you could give me a refill?”
The redhead turned and grinned, coffee pot in hand. “Neal,” he said in greeting, refilling the proffered mug. “How’s things?”
“Oh, the usual,” Neal replied as Cleon finished filling his own mug and took a seat at the table, “Fighting dragons, rescuing pretty damsels in distress, you know how it is.”
Cleon nodded wisely, obviously accustomed to Neal’s sense of humour and odd ways. A match made in heaven, Kel thought. Cleon motioned to Kel with his mug, almost spilling coffee on the tabletop. “Hello. I think I’ve seen you around.”
Kel tried to smile; the party problem had put her in a bad mood. “Maybe. I’m Kel, third floor.”
Cleon nodded, smiled, and put his mug down so that they could shake hands. “Cleon Kennan, fourth floor. That’s probably why we don’t see each other much.” His handshake was firm, Kel noticed, pleased. She hated it when men wouldn’t shake hands properly with women.
“Cleon and I work on the same floor actually, Kel,” Neal said. Today he wore a dark green tie that brought out the colour of his eyes. If she didn’t approve of his strange sense of humour, she at least approved of his ability to dress himself.
“I see,” Kel said.
“Well,” Cleon rose abruptly from his chair, “Off to work, then. See you in a bit Neal. Kel.” He was gone almost as suddenly as he had arrived. Kel took a sip of her coffee, but it had started to get cold why they were talking.
“That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?” Neal asked teasingly. Kel rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t stop a smile from forming.
“Aha!” said Neal, draining his mug and getting up to put it in the sink. “A smile! You know, I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, people around here like it when you smile at them.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kel said, smiling into her coffee mug.
“Well, off to work,” Neal said, echoing Cleon’s words. He disappeared out of the door, only to reappear and order Kel to “Smile!” and then vanish from view once more.
Kel arrived at her desk in a much better mood than she had been in that morning, all worries about an approaching party behind her. She also attempted to smile at her pale, blonde neighbor, though she was fairly sure he didn’t even look up from his computer. She even managed to remain in a good mood for an hour as she worked on the non-fiction book about pandas. Her happy nature and productive streak seemed to wane after another hour though. After reading and rereading the same paragraph about bamboo stalks (she was sure there was an error in there somewhere, but it eluded her each time she read over it) Kel was growing decidedly more unhappy and less eager to work. Just as she was planning a covert trip to the staffroom for some much needed coffee, the blight of Neal’s existence appeared before her in the form of Wyldon Cavall.
Kel wondered how such a man had ever come to work in Human Resources. He was stern in appearance, with hard brown eyes and a strong jaw. What little hair he had left was brown and he was completely bald on top. Dressed in a fitted suit, he looked oddly handsome, from his stiff white shirt-collar down to his shiny black shoes. He was a practical, intelligent man. But this was only the surface; Kel was sure that inside (perhaps deep, deep inside) he had a softer, more amiable nature. It was common knowledge that people in the HR department were supposed to be approachable, which made Kel think that there must be some element about Wyldon Cavall that made him a people-person. She wondered if she – or anyone, for that matter – would ever find out what it was.
“Katherine,” he said, looking down at her. Kel flinched involuntarily at the use of her full name. He spoke in such a tone that made it sound like a rebuke. “How are you finding your work?”
“Very well, sir,” Kel replied. She gave a watery smile.
“Excellent,” said Wyldon. “You are enjoying it, I hope?”
Kel thought about the pandas. She would probably enjoy them more if she didn’t have to read about them day after day. “Oh, yes. Very interesting.”
From the corner of her eye she saw her pale, blonde neighbor glance across at her and Cavall. For the first time, she wondered if he was working on something equally as interesting as pandas. That thought led her on a tangent: what was as interesting as pandas? Iguanas?
Cavall cleared his throat and Kel snapped back to attention. Best not to think about pandas and iguanas while the boss is talking to you, she reprimanded herself silently.
“Well, Katherine, I shall be checking in on you again. But I have with me,” he held out some papers to her which she hadn’t noticed him holding, “Some documents that need to be delivered to the fourth floor. I have some more people to see, perhaps you could deliver them if you are not, ah, busy.”
Kel blushed and took the papers from him, thinking of how she had been planning her escape to the staffroom only moments before he had arrived. “Of course, sir. Right away.”
Cavall nodded to her and moved on to the next desk. “Now, Joren, how are you finding your work?” he addressed the blonde man. Kel didn’t stick around to hear any more: eager to escape Cavall’s presence, she got up and headed toward the lift, papers in hand.
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Post by theantichris on Dec 19, 2009 16:34:38 GMT 10
Eeeee. Just catching up with this and it is absolutely awesome.
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Post by wordy on Dec 19, 2009 18:50:18 GMT 10
Thanks chris! Glad you like
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Post by Lisa on Dec 20, 2009 8:42:43 GMT 10
Yay! I was hoping he'd bring his handsome face into this story soon... I'm as intrigued as ever!
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Post by wordy on Dec 20, 2009 15:51:21 GMT 10
As if I could leave Wyldon out, he's practically the GL love god. CHAPTER SIXA hand caught the lift door just as it was closing. “Oh, I’m sorry!” Kel said, anxiously pressing the DOOR OPEN button. “If I had seen you I would have waited.” “That’s okay,” the young man said, flashing her a friendly smile. “As long as you weren’t avoiding me. Or am I the only one who does that?” He laughed. Kel smiled. He was rather attractive, with dark hair and dancing eyes. There was a friendly, familiar look about him. “You must be new?” he continued. “Yes,” Kel said. “This is my first week, actually.” The man nodded. “I’ve been here for quite a few years now. Easier to get in than it is to escape!” He grinned down at her. The lift opened suddenly with a bing. “Oh,” said Kel. “This is my floor.” “Mine too,” the man said, and they both stepped out onto the blue-carpeted floor. “Well, I go this way,” he said, pointing behind him down a hallway. Kel looked about them. Seeing the desks and people in the opposite direction, she smiled at the man, “I guess I go this way.” He gave her a friendly salute and disappeared down the hallway with nothing more than another grin and a quick backward glance. Kel stood there for a minute, before she realised that she was staring and felt a bit stupid. She turned and made her way toward the desks, looking at the name written at the top of her first paper. “Vinson Genlith?” she asked, stopping in front of a desk. The man behind it looked her over before saying, “Yes, what is it?” She thrust the piece of paper at him, eager to get away. He read it quickly. She could hear his groan as she walked away; it must have been bad news for him, or more work. She smiled when she saw the next name, and scanned the room of people instead of looking at nameplates. Neal was leaning back in his chair, feet resting on his desk. He had taken off his suit coat and tie, and rolled up his sleeves. Kel threw the paper down on his cluttered desk and he smiled, the pencil he had between his teeth moving up and down. “Katherine m’dear!” he cried, dropping his feet to the ground and taking the pencil from his mouth. “How kind of you to visit me! And what’s this?” he cried, looking at the paper she had given him and scanning it quickly, “A present? How sweet!” Kel smiled and sat against the edge of his desk, careful not to knock anything off; he was far messier than she was. “I just had a visit from your friend,” she told him. “My friend?” I have many friends!” he scoffed, “many, many—“ “Yes, yes,” said Kel, “You’re very popular.” It was best to cut him off early, she had learnt, before he got on a roll and began with the real dramatics. “Your friend Cavall.” “Oh, him.” Neal waved a hand in dismissal. “And what’s he been bothering you about then?” Kel shrugged. “Just checking up on the new intern, I guess. And the other juniors on my floor. What have you been up to?” “Busy. Very busy.” He contradicted this by picking up a half-folded paper aeroplane from his desk and finishing it with an intense look of concentration on his face. If only he applied himself to his work like that, Kel thought a little mournfully. Kel watched as he turned, took aim, and sent it flying across the room. One man bent to get something from a draw and narrowly avoided being hit at the last moment. “So,” Neal said, turning back to her as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “Are you making friends?” “Umm, yes? Kind of. A little? Alright, no,” finished Kel while Neal gave her a disapproving look. As if he hadn’t just thrown a paper plane across the room! thought Kel. What a hypocrite. “Although,” she said defensively, “I did just have a chat with a nice man in the lift.” “Talking to people in the lift doesn’t count Kel, everyone knows that.” Kel rolled her eyes. “I have to deliver the rest of these,” she held up the papers in her hand, “and then get back to work. See you at lunch?” “Naturally, my dear.” She left Neal, shaking her head. The name at the top of the next paper was difficult to pronounce. When she found the desk with a nameplate to match it, she looked up to find a dark, handsome man observing her coolly. “Zahir ib…” she struggled. The man looked bored, obviously used to people mispronouncing his name. He held out a hand for the paper and she gave it to him silently. “Thankyou,” he said, not looking up from reading it. Kel took that as her cue to leave. The next name was Cleon’s, the redhead from this morning in the staffroom. He smiled jovially when she approached his desk and stopped typing to take the paper. A frown appeared on his freckled face as he read over it. “Ah, well,” he said finally, “More work for me, it seems.” Kel smiled apologetically and turned to go. “Umm, Kel. Are you very busy?” he asked. Kel looked at the papers in her hand: only two left. “I suppose not.” “I don’t suppose… you could get me a refill?” He held up his coffee mug, an anxious look upon his face, probably worried he had offended her. As an intern, Kel was at the bottom. Lower than the bottom, if such a place existed. She was required to make coffee now and then, for meetings and such, so someone like Cleon asking her to bring him coffee was not unheard of. If she had nothing very exciting to do (which was often) she would gladly make people coffee, as long as they didn’t begin to think she was some sort of maid. “Sure,” she told Cleon. “Just as soon as I finish up here.” He looked relieved. Kel delivered the last two papers and headed back to the lift, Cleon’s coffee mug in hand. Perhaps she would have time for a coffee of her own, she thought happily.
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Post by greenie on Dec 20, 2009 20:29:08 GMT 10
Ooh, that's a nice link in about Kel being at the bottom and Cleon getting her to do things like bring him coffee. I'm really enjoying this!
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Post by Lisa on Dec 21, 2009 2:15:46 GMT 10
I like the coffee/earning-your-way correlation, too. Was that Seaver in the lift?
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Post by wordy on Dec 21, 2009 8:59:10 GMT 10
Thanks guys, I thought it'd be a nice link with the books. And the guy in the lift - I haven't decided yet, but he's either Seaver or Dom. I'll just have to wait and see how the story goes.
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