La Tigre
Lady Jaguar's Most Unladylike Fanfic.

Geek Guys (a drabble)
by La Tigre (Lady Jaguar) - latigre@cielo.org
Date: 03/31/00

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Disclaimer: They're not mine. Chris Carter owns them.
Rating: Pure G.
Comments appreciated. I edited it after I posted it to LGMslash. Original written in about an hour.
Spoilers: none.
Summary: It's just a drabble (vignette)
Archive: Yes, for LGM (Byers/Langly) site, if wanted. Others, please ask.
Website: http://personales.com/costarica/cartago/jaguar
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Fingerprints: A "written on the fly" drabble, suggested from a post in lgmslash@onelist.com:

Original post:
> > Somehow, I can just imagine Langly pulling back his hair
> > neatly and whoring himself out to some company temporarily in
> > order to get that boss new workstation or whatever.
>
> Oh my god, I'm almost choked when I read that... The first thing that
> came to mind when you said whoring was not Langly doing consulting
> work... Though I guess, it might be construed as consulting work of a
> different kind..

------ka'ding! story time!!! --------


Down the hall, the early morning light sifted across the warping floorboards of LGM Headquarters. John Byers reached for his cup of coffee with a satisfied smile. Morning was the best part of the day, he thought. He fired up the web browser and hammered out an address. Time to see what the email brought in overnight.

A creak of floorboards startled him and he twisted to look over his shoulder. Someone stood framed in the doorway of the halll leading to the bedroom area.

"Ringo?" The size was right, the shape was right, but there was something definately wrong with the hair and clothes. He narrowed his eyes, studying the figure. The man in the doorway hunched his shoulders and stepped into the pool of morning light, heading toward the front door.

"Ringo?". The apparition looked like an alternate universe ghost of Langly -- blonde hair slicked back into a ponytail, and an outfit that looked like it'd been salvaged from the Blues Brothers' closets. Black suit coat, black pants, white shirt -- and a tie that looked like it'd been mauled by a toothless Rottweiler. Langly had probably learned to knot that tie from an Internet website, because it was backwards and slightly askew.

The eyes framed by the black glasses had a sort of manic glare, like a deer caught in the headlights -- a deer strung out on caffeine, Byers hastily amended as Langly glared at him.

"Ringo?"

"What?" Low, aggressive -- no Bambi voice there. It was the voice of a caged tiger, daring the other to challenge him. Definately wired on adrenaline and lack of sleep, Byers thought. Langly traditionally went to bed with the vampires at the crack of dawn, and didn't move till sunset.

"So . . . what gets you up at this hour?"

"Going to see a man," he muttered, embarrassed. The pants, seen in a clearer light, were leather and they hugged his body like a coat of paint. He looked wary; a tiger, trapped under glass.

"Wearing that outfit?"

"What's wrong with it?" was the surly reply.

Byers stared long and hard at the smooth black surface. He swallowed, hard. "Well, the pants look like ... like... uhmm... well... " he fumbled. "...something you'd cruise bars in."

"It's what I've got, okay, Byers? "

Byers rose from his chair, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Uh... I know it's none of my business, but if you're having some sort of trouble, Ringo..."

"I can look out for myself." Langly stalked forward toward the door, reaching for the locks.

Byers intercepted him. "Look. I know it's been financially bad for you these past few months, but things are bound to turn around. Mel and I can cover rent and groceries till things improve for you." Langly stiffened, one corner of his mouth twitching. "I'd rather see you do that than... ah..." He indicated the tight leather pants, helplessly.

"Than WHAT?" The growl deepened.

"Than ... sell yourself like that. Ohgod, Ringo. Stay home. I'll wake Mel. We can work this out."

Langly whirled, teeth bared. "JEE-zes FREAKIN' KeeEERIsst!!!!! LET ME SPELL THIS OUT FOR YOU, BYERS!"

"Uh--"

Langly stabbed a forefinger at his face. "YES, I'm having money problems. YES, I'm selling out!!!" he roared.

"Ringo -- no!"

"And YES, I'm going to see a man who will give me lots of money if I do exactly what he says!!!!!"

Byers felt his face turn white. "Ohgod...," he whispered. They were nose to nose now. Hazel eyes glittered like shards of glass above a tiger-savage grin.

"YES!!! I'VE TURNED PROSTITUTE!!!! " Langly bellowed, at him. " I GOT A FREAKIN' CONTRACT PROGRAMMING JOB AT MICROSOFT, BYERS!!!! WHAT DID YOU THINK I WAS DOING????"

"Der?" Byers' brain cells froze. So did his tongue.

"I'M DOIN' FRIGGIN' HARDWARE DRIVERS!!!!!!"

"Huurb..."

"HAVE I SAID HOW MUCH I HATE PROGRAMMING DRIVERS????"

"Nerrgh?"

"HAVE I MENTIONED MY OPINION OF ASSEMBLER??"

"Errahhh...

"HAVE I TREATED YOU TO MY OPINION OF VIDEO CARDS PUT OUT BY SOME FRAGGIN' HOTSHOT COMPANY THAT CAN'T BE BOTHERED TO FOLLOW INDUSTRY STANDARDS????"

"Nerfh...."

"AND HAVE YOU HEARD MY SONG AND DANCE ON THE JOYS OF CORPORATE LIFE, BYERS????"

"Nnng?"

"WELL, IT'S A TREAT BUT I'VE GOT TO RUN ALONG AND PLAY WHORE!!" Langly roared as he yanked the door open, slamming it against the wall. "I'LL BE HOME AT SEVEN. YOU SLACKERS BETTER HAVE DINNER READY!!!"

The door thundered shut and Langly was gone. Behind him, in the dark, Byers could hear Frohike's chuckle.

-end-

(and yes, Microsoft has corporate offices around the country. Not everyone associated with them is in Seattle.)

(Do not meddle in the affairs of jaguars, for you are small and tasty and we are armed with good barbeque sauce recipes.)