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Some fluff/slice of life bits
No TW, and various spots on the timeline
Clu wondered, idly, as he closed the in-progress sticky note at his desk, why he hadn’t thought of this sooner. For almost five whole decicycles, he had been fretting, and agonizing, and running private simulations on possible outcomes. It was driving him to utter distraction, really.
So, realizing that he must act in order to purge the building distraction from his processes, Clu had decided first that an experiment was in order. It was yet another downcycle with Jalen’s quiet, but bright presence dragging Clu’s attention away from his inbox every other micro. When, finally, Clu gave up on dragging his eyes away from where the tall, well-coded program was half-laying, half-propped on one elbow across the seating platform lining the wall of Clu’s office, that he put his plan into action.
Clu pushed his chair back, stood stiffly. The ISO was lounging on the raised, soft platform that Jalen had long since claimed as his favorite spot to work from in Clu’s office. He was next to Jalen before the ISO looked up from his own datapad to smile uncertainly at the admin standing over him with such a strange look in his blue eyes. A look which only became more intense as Clu reached out, without a word of explanation, and caught Jalen’s jaw in a firm, but gentle grip.
The ISO’s eyes went wide, and the datapad slipped from suddenly uncooperative fingers as Clu tilted his head up, then seemed to memorize the view; Jalen laid out in front of him, staring up with wide, innocently startled eyes, circuits flushes a sparkling, bright white, and lips parted just enough to hold Clu’s attention as nothing else on the Grid could right now.
And then, it was just so easy. So easy to lean down, thumb brushing softly over the edge of Jalen’s jaw, and close his lips over the full lower lip on the stunned ISO.
It’s heat, light, insistent, and sparking with electricity. It’s Clu gasping, and letting his eyes fall half-closed as the tingling rush of a closed circuit snapped through lips, tongue, and the light touch of his yellow, finger-circuits against the dashes over Jalen’s cheekbones. It’s demanding, and hungry as the ISO’s hands come up to card through Clu’s hair, and paw at the sysadmin’s shoulder, and the energy just keeps echoing back, and forth until Clu is the one to break off with a deep breath.
Jalen blinked drunkenly at Clu’s self-satisfied grin, confused, but very certain that he wanted that wonderful feeling back.
“…I don’t – I…what is this?”
Clus pulled away from Jalen’s hands, but was slow to let his own fingers trail over the ISO’s sleeves, the ridge of his cheekbone, his lower lip. His smirk was self-satisfied, if somewhat mischievous .
“New protocol: ‘Kiss’. Don’t worry. If you need another tutorial, I can help with that.”
Jalen looked dazed, but his hesitant smile quirked the corner of his mouth in a mirror of Clu’s own.
“Ah…yes. Yes, I think you should.”
---------- ~*~ ----------
Two centicycles, and counting since the Fault line had opened up just shy of Rho sector, and Rinzler had been on site ten micros after the first wave of gridbugs came pouring over the barriers between the industrial sector’s loading docks, and the Outlands.
Clu studied the arm held carefully between his hands, and hissed through his teeth at the broken circuit line that rendered the limb an inert, lifeless grey. Rinzler sat still, melded disks locked back in dock, yet Clu could tell his Security Chief was all but drooping with exhaustion, though he never seemed to register pain. It takes another micro of careful prodding ( and one accidental brush sending a stray voxel crumbling off Rinzler bicep,and hitting the rocky shelf of Outland rock, never to be seen again ) before he could manage to keep one hand on Rinzler’s forearm to hold the limb stable, while the other tapped in quick commands to his friend’s disk; the address of the problem, the miswritten bytes, the backup, fix, and cleanup.
“There. It should hold you for another millicycle.” Clu pronounced, and let go. Rinzler’s arm dropped bonelessly to his side, and Clu’s frown deepened.
“You need downtime. Badly.”
The program stiffened in an attempt at indignation. Briefly, anyway, since he soon wilted with an aborted shake of his helmeted head.
“Can’t. Wave pattern variable. 30 microcycle gap until next.”
Clu wasn’t having it, though. He had been on site for the last two millicycles, and if the sysadmin was feeling the toll of spending prolonged time fighting in the energy-leeching environment of the Outlands, then the system's main firewall had to be a far sight worse. Clu didn’t need to see Rinzler’s disk to know it, either.
“Fine. That leaves 29 micros to grab some downtime.” Clu retorted, and even as Rinzler mustered further protest, Clu turned around, and scooted behind Rinzler until they were sitting back-to-back. Whatever Rinzler was going to say was lost in fatigue-laced surprise at the tap of Clu’s disk against his.
“29 micros. I’ve set a timer. Come on, Rinzler; you lean back against me, and I’ll lean back against you. After this next wave, you can be the one to stand watch.”
It’s a mark of just how tired Rinzler is that he only calculates the gain versus risk for a few nanos. Presently, though, Clu caught the resigned nod of his friend’s helmet out of the corner of his good eye, then felt the weight of his Security chief lean gradually into the pressure of their respective disks sandwiched in between each set of shoulders.
Clu had to lightly bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a snort when three nanos later, that same helmet tilted back, and thumped lightly against his shoulder, as Rinzler finally gave in, and slipped into his first sleep cycle in who knew how long.
---------- ~*~ ----------
“I think you just saved that program’s life.” Yori murmured, as Jalen lead her through an elegant turn on the dance floor. For one of these ‘Cooperative Engagement’ parties, Yori found herself enjoying the New Arjian version of an energy bar, in spite of the stark contrast it had to the End of Line’s frenetic music, and buzzing atmosphere.
“Or his kneecaps, anyway. At the very least.”
The tall ISO grinned, and had to lean down to murmur into her ear back. “After watching you looking wistfully at the dancing for half the party, I didn’t think Rinzler would ever let you out of his sight long enough for that young Basic from Stats to even get one song in.”
Yori laughed, lightly, and affected a put upon sigh.
“Just one, or two dances is all I ask. That’s not so terrible, is it?”
“No. But, I know it’s Rinzler you want to dance with you. So why wait for another program to risk life, and limb?” He teased.
“Oh please. He won’t even let me make any aesthetic edits to his uniform for the event, and only shrugs if I mention dancing.” Yori replied with a shake of her upswept blonde hair.
Jalen’s smile turned mischievious as he hmmed thoughtfully. “Give me two micros, and I think I can make it happen for you.” Jalen replied with a surreptitious glance over his friend’s blond hair to look for a certain yellow-circuited coat in the crowd.
“Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?” Her dimples caught the light from her sparkling gown as her smile turned curious.
“Perks of dating the boss, my dear. Perks of dating the boss.”
Jalen winked at Yori’s clear, startled laughter.
No TW, and various spots on the timeline
Clu wondered, idly, as he closed the in-progress sticky note at his desk, why he hadn’t thought of this sooner. For almost five whole decicycles, he had been fretting, and agonizing, and running private simulations on possible outcomes. It was driving him to utter distraction, really.
So, realizing that he must act in order to purge the building distraction from his processes, Clu had decided first that an experiment was in order. It was yet another downcycle with Jalen’s quiet, but bright presence dragging Clu’s attention away from his inbox every other micro. When, finally, Clu gave up on dragging his eyes away from where the tall, well-coded program was half-laying, half-propped on one elbow across the seating platform lining the wall of Clu’s office, that he put his plan into action.
Clu pushed his chair back, stood stiffly. The ISO was lounging on the raised, soft platform that Jalen had long since claimed as his favorite spot to work from in Clu’s office. He was next to Jalen before the ISO looked up from his own datapad to smile uncertainly at the admin standing over him with such a strange look in his blue eyes. A look which only became more intense as Clu reached out, without a word of explanation, and caught Jalen’s jaw in a firm, but gentle grip.
The ISO’s eyes went wide, and the datapad slipped from suddenly uncooperative fingers as Clu tilted his head up, then seemed to memorize the view; Jalen laid out in front of him, staring up with wide, innocently startled eyes, circuits flushes a sparkling, bright white, and lips parted just enough to hold Clu’s attention as nothing else on the Grid could right now.
And then, it was just so easy. So easy to lean down, thumb brushing softly over the edge of Jalen’s jaw, and close his lips over the full lower lip on the stunned ISO.
It’s heat, light, insistent, and sparking with electricity. It’s Clu gasping, and letting his eyes fall half-closed as the tingling rush of a closed circuit snapped through lips, tongue, and the light touch of his yellow, finger-circuits against the dashes over Jalen’s cheekbones. It’s demanding, and hungry as the ISO’s hands come up to card through Clu’s hair, and paw at the sysadmin’s shoulder, and the energy just keeps echoing back, and forth until Clu is the one to break off with a deep breath.
Jalen blinked drunkenly at Clu’s self-satisfied grin, confused, but very certain that he wanted that wonderful feeling back.
“…I don’t – I…what is this?”
Clus pulled away from Jalen’s hands, but was slow to let his own fingers trail over the ISO’s sleeves, the ridge of his cheekbone, his lower lip. His smirk was self-satisfied, if somewhat mischievous .
“New protocol: ‘Kiss’. Don’t worry. If you need another tutorial, I can help with that.”
Jalen looked dazed, but his hesitant smile quirked the corner of his mouth in a mirror of Clu’s own.
“Ah…yes. Yes, I think you should.”
Two centicycles, and counting since the Fault line had opened up just shy of Rho sector, and Rinzler had been on site ten micros after the first wave of gridbugs came pouring over the barriers between the industrial sector’s loading docks, and the Outlands.
Clu studied the arm held carefully between his hands, and hissed through his teeth at the broken circuit line that rendered the limb an inert, lifeless grey. Rinzler sat still, melded disks locked back in dock, yet Clu could tell his Security Chief was all but drooping with exhaustion, though he never seemed to register pain. It takes another micro of careful prodding ( and one accidental brush sending a stray voxel crumbling off Rinzler bicep,and hitting the rocky shelf of Outland rock, never to be seen again ) before he could manage to keep one hand on Rinzler’s forearm to hold the limb stable, while the other tapped in quick commands to his friend’s disk; the address of the problem, the miswritten bytes, the backup, fix, and cleanup.
“There. It should hold you for another millicycle.” Clu pronounced, and let go. Rinzler’s arm dropped bonelessly to his side, and Clu’s frown deepened.
“You need downtime. Badly.”
The program stiffened in an attempt at indignation. Briefly, anyway, since he soon wilted with an aborted shake of his helmeted head.
“Can’t. Wave pattern variable. 30 microcycle gap until next.”
Clu wasn’t having it, though. He had been on site for the last two millicycles, and if the sysadmin was feeling the toll of spending prolonged time fighting in the energy-leeching environment of the Outlands, then the system's main firewall had to be a far sight worse. Clu didn’t need to see Rinzler’s disk to know it, either.
“Fine. That leaves 29 micros to grab some downtime.” Clu retorted, and even as Rinzler mustered further protest, Clu turned around, and scooted behind Rinzler until they were sitting back-to-back. Whatever Rinzler was going to say was lost in fatigue-laced surprise at the tap of Clu’s disk against his.
“29 micros. I’ve set a timer. Come on, Rinzler; you lean back against me, and I’ll lean back against you. After this next wave, you can be the one to stand watch.”
It’s a mark of just how tired Rinzler is that he only calculates the gain versus risk for a few nanos. Presently, though, Clu caught the resigned nod of his friend’s helmet out of the corner of his good eye, then felt the weight of his Security chief lean gradually into the pressure of their respective disks sandwiched in between each set of shoulders.
Clu had to lightly bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a snort when three nanos later, that same helmet tilted back, and thumped lightly against his shoulder, as Rinzler finally gave in, and slipped into his first sleep cycle in who knew how long.
“I think you just saved that program’s life.” Yori murmured, as Jalen lead her through an elegant turn on the dance floor. For one of these ‘Cooperative Engagement’ parties, Yori found herself enjoying the New Arjian version of an energy bar, in spite of the stark contrast it had to the End of Line’s frenetic music, and buzzing atmosphere.
“Or his kneecaps, anyway. At the very least.”
The tall ISO grinned, and had to lean down to murmur into her ear back. “After watching you looking wistfully at the dancing for half the party, I didn’t think Rinzler would ever let you out of his sight long enough for that young Basic from Stats to even get one song in.”
Yori laughed, lightly, and affected a put upon sigh.
“Just one, or two dances is all I ask. That’s not so terrible, is it?”
“No. But, I know it’s Rinzler you want to dance with you. So why wait for another program to risk life, and limb?” He teased.
“Oh please. He won’t even let me make any aesthetic edits to his uniform for the event, and only shrugs if I mention dancing.” Yori replied with a shake of her upswept blonde hair.
Jalen’s smile turned mischievious as he hmmed thoughtfully. “Give me two micros, and I think I can make it happen for you.” Jalen replied with a surreptitious glance over his friend’s blond hair to look for a certain yellow-circuited coat in the crowd.
“Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?” Her dimples caught the light from her sparkling gown as her smile turned curious.
“Perks of dating the boss, my dear. Perks of dating the boss.”
Jalen winked at Yori’s clear, startled laughter.
