✵

“Jesus Christ, Edison. Do you think you took long enough to get here?” Toby, Elliot’s desk-side neighbor frowned, “Patricia has been on a warpath this morning and I can only tell her you’re in the bathroom so many times before she gets suspicious.”

“Breathe, Tobias.” Elliot cooed, placing an index finger to his coworker’s lips, “If she wanted stricter attendance, she’d make us clock in like normal people.”

Toby had been Elliot’s desk neighbor for roughly a year and while the disgruntled young man never seemed to reach the particular point, Elliot often found himself wondering when the human-shaped grease pile would eventually snap and murder him. Yet, without hesitation, Toby covered for him every time.

It was oddly endearing.

Toby sighed, pulling his shoulder-length black hair into a bun, “Look, man, take up your attendance policy questions with her, I can’t keep covering for you while you do whatever the fuck it is you do.”

“But Toby,” Elliot smiled warmly as he started up his computer, “It’s our thing. It’s the reason we’re friends.”

“We’re not friends,” Toby snorted, turning his attention back to his monitor screen, “You just exploit my inability to say no to pretty people.”

“That’s a rather homosexual thing to say, Tobias.”

“Pretty is pretty,” Toby shrugged, “And if I absolutely had to pick a dude we both know it’d be you. We’ve covered this. For a one night stand of course, god pity any bastard roped into any sort of relationship with you.”

Elliot could practically feel himself beaming, “You say that, but I’ll have you know I just had two wonderful dates.”

“Those poor guys.” Toby deadpanned.

“Guy.” Elliot corrected, “Just one.”

Toby shot him a look over his bottle-cap lenses, clearly debating between entertaining Elliot’s obvious desire to gush or not.

On the one hand, watching Elliot squirm around while waiting for the go-ahead to ramble on about something was ceaselessly entertaining. On the other hand, Toby wasn’t entirely sure he was in the particular mood this particular morning to hear his coworker ramble on about the sordid details of whatever he deemed a love life.

If Toby had to guess, there were more than likely far too many dog collars involved for his liking.

Elliot definitely struck him as the type.

“Elliot!” Patricia Carpenter’s voice boomed from down the hall, relieving both Toby from his duties of listening to whatever he was about to have to suffer through and Elliot from the potential embarrassment of admitting he was strongly warming up to the opinion that Daniel Chae was the cutest human being in the entirety of human beings he’d witnessed existing.

Which, after this morning, who could blame him?

Elliot had tried fighting it, really, he had, but on his way to work he conceded that perhaps it was alright to let himself indulge in a little bit of silliness. It had been so long since someone else elicited this internal response. As long as he internalized it, he didn’t see the harm.

Elliot was so deep in indulging the silliness that he paid no mind to the forty or so pairs of eyes on him as he stood to traipse down the hall to his boss’s office.

“Patty Cakes, darling, I heard you were looking for me.” He said calmly as he shut the door to her office behind him, having been through this particular song and dance enough times that he knew every step by heart.

“Sit down, Elliot.” The middle aged woman said with a glare, fried hair twisted into a bun tighter than the expression on her face, “You’re late. Again.”

Elliot opened his mouth to speak as he sat down, but she cut him off as she continued, “Don’t feed me some bullshit line about being in the bathroom either. Toby might be nice enough to try and cover for you, but that doesn’t mean he’s any good at it.”

“Patricia, I do my job and I do it better than anyone else here, I haven’t been late in two weeks. Surely, two measly little hours  without me won't bring the company to it's fiery demise." Elliot defended indignantly.

“And I said two months, perfect attendance, or you’re fired. You might be good but not good enough to warrant that attitude.”

“You don’t understand, Patty. This was important!” Elliot was caught between wanting to go with his immediate internal response, and carefully choosing his words. He never had been particularly skilled when it came to choosing between fight or flight, but he needed to tread carefully. The biggest mistake anyone could make in any job was feeling like they weren’t expendable.

He aimed to make himself so important that no one could shake him, sure, but he wasn’t quite there yet.

“I swear,” He continued, knowing that he’d need to deflect from explaining that the important thing was a date, “Six months. Just...make it six months. I won’t be late by even a second.”

Patricia frowned, kneading her temples in what was an attempt to massage away the headache that was Elliot Edison.

Elliot knew he’d need to hold his tongue, but he also knew what she was about to add.

“Six months.” She sighed, “I’ll give you six months of perfect attendance and you have to give me two daily articles and spend the rest of the time editing everyone else’s shit.”

She’d had him editing since she initially punished him. It wasn’t anything new, but he was so past the point of sick of it that he couldn’t articulate just how sick of it he was. There wasn’t a single employee at infobyte worth his energy. One could mold shit into the most beautiful of shapes, but at the end of the day, it would still be shit.

Still.

Money and the employment necessary to keep it were important, and if he could just follow the instructions, he’d have six more months at this unfortunately profitable shitshow to come up with something that would get him to a better position.

“Yes mam.” He said, reminding himself of how much he liked his current lifestyle and how much he had hated working in retail.

Patricia groaned, hating that this boy’s talent was the only reason she hadn’t fired him on his first day, “You’ll start with Amber’s fashion blog. I’ve got her in backlog so someone can make sure she looks like she knows English.”

Six months. I can come up with something to make me indispensable in six months"I'm on it, boss."

                                                                ✵

Danny headed back to the bar, his head less clear than he would have liked it.

He wondered if Elliot was just placating him out of boredom. He didn’t get the distinct impression that Elliot cared about too much, but it was obvious that he at least cared about Winn (although he definitely seemed like he’d deny it if asked). Maybe he was just entertaining him to keep him out of Val’s hair, and by proxy helping Winn.

Danny didn’t know Winn that well, although he wished he did, but that definitely seemed like motivation that would be up Val’s alley. Danny loved his friend more than life itself, but she was definitely prone to moments of not exactly thinking things through. For all he knew, Val could have just convinced Elliot to entertain him so that she could have time alone with Winn.

“Yo, you’re back early.” Val grinned from behind the counter, “Did that twinkletoes ditch you? I’ve been looking for an excuse to kill him, so just say the word and it’s done.”

Or maybe not, he thought.

Danny giggled, patting his friend on the back as he tossed his backpack behind the bar counter, “No, he had to go to work. I kinda got the impression he blew it off for coffee.”

“Winn says it’s really hard to get him to actually go,” Val shrugged, “Not that I actually blame him for that. He works for InfoBYTE, I can’t imagine how vapid you have to be ,or make yourself be, to churn out some of that horse shit.”

“Hey,” Danny frowned, oddly defensive, “It isn’t all that bad. Elliot actually writes a weekly thing about the city that’s...weirdly insightful. In a... way. It has heart to it.”

Maybe I’m biased since I wasted so much time reading all of that crap, though. Danny thought with a smile to himself.

“Oh that’s disgusting!” Val said, leaning into the bar counter dramatically, “You actually like him? But he’s awful!”

“He’s not awful,” Danny frowned, “I think he’s eccentric, sure, but he seems alright.”

Val rolled her eyes, “That wording inspires so much confidence.”

“If I recall this correctly, you were the one that set me up with him. If you didn’t trust him and if you hate him so much, why the fuck did you force me to go on that date?” Danny snapped, fully aware that he might perhaps be taking out his whirring thoughts on his poor friend.

But the fact did remain that this was her fault. If she didn’t have a particular reason, it just made Danny more confused.

He didn’t like feeling like he didn’t know what he was feeling.

Val flinched at the harshness of his tone, but seemed to weigh her response with all the care of a bull in a room full of fine china, “From what I’ve observed, and from what Winn has told me, he’s...easy.” She shrugged as though that were explanation enough, but continued when the face Danny made informed her it wasn’t, “You’re just… You’re really…repressed? Lonely? I mean, you have a grand total of one friend and I love you and all but there’s some shit friendship can’t help with and I’m just...it would be healthy for you to just...get that out of your system.”

Elliot was easy but in the span of two mini-dates, he hadn’t so much as touched Danny. Which both immediately filled him with curiosity and self-loathing. Because of course Elliot hadn’t tried anything. Daniel Chae was a hoodie-clad gremlin, you probably couldn’t pay someone to try something, let alone they try it voluntarily.

Danny sighed, deciding against going with his internal, immediate response, which wasn’t all too kind. “I guess I can see how you’re trying and you see this as a kind thing to do, but I’ll “get that out of my system” when I’m ready.”

“Yeah, but “ready” for you isn’t realistic. I love you, but you’re kind of a moron.” Val said with a pat to Danny’s back as she wiped off the bar counter, “You’re going to overthink yourself to death, and I’d rather it be from something anxiety related than blue balls.”

Danny made a face in disgust, “Don’t say that.”

“You know it’s true. I just thought maybe a push with someone horrible might inspire you to find someone who sucks less. Or more. I’m not big on asking for those details when the time comes. Or doesn’t. Come. I mean.”

“Gross.” Danny shuddered, “But...I see your point. You could have just given me a “go with the flow” speech. That would have made a wee bit more sense.”

“I have.”

“Fair enough.” Danny sighed, resisting the sudden urge to check his phone, “Still... You might be wrong about Elliot.”

“Is this your opinion or your boner’s?” Val smirked.

“Please stop being gross, it’s making me nauseous.” Danny watched as a customer walked in and lowered his volume accordingly because he’d die if anyone overheard their conversation, “He’s been genuinely nice so far, and for someone who’s…”easy”, he sure hasn’t tried anything. Which could have other reasons but still.”

Val rolled her eyes, “I still don’t like him.”

“Well,” Danny smiled, giving a wave to the customer, “You might not like him, but I should at least thank you, I guess.”

“Why?” Val asked as she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

“Because, I don’t know enough to judge his character, but he is really, really, really, really  pretty.”

“Ew.” Val frowned, taking that as a queue to go help the customer.