Techie and the Temp

A/N: Thanks for tuning in. Here's a new story for you all. Comment please! I can take criticisms, just try not to be mean. ^^;


Chapter One


You wouldn’t know she was a temp to look at her. Serena was a polished, professional looking young woman with a quick smile and a quicker mind. Her blond hair was sleek and cut into a fashionable bob that grazed her shoulders. Her makeup was expertly applied, and her well-fitted suit was crisply pressed. She walked upright, gave direct eye contact, boasted a firm handshake, and behaved in every way like the raging ladder-climber she certainly was not. She was a problem-solver, and always had the perfect idea at hand to streamline any failing procedure she was presented with. She was friendly and open, and to see her rapport with her coworkers, any casual observer would think she’d been at this particular job for years, not merely weeks.

“You staying late?” Stephanie asked.

“No, I gotta go,” Serena replied, quickly gathering her things. “I’ll miss my bus.”

“Why don’t you let me give you a ride, Serena?” The voice sent a bad little shiver down Serena’s spine. She spun on her heel and glared at Carl.

“No, Carl, I don’t need a ride. And don’t follow me again. That was creepy yesterday.”

“Hey, someone’s gotta make sure you get home safe,” he replied, throwing his hands up in vexed defeat. “It’s dangerous out there.”

“Wanna guess why?” she spat back, lifting her eyebrow at him. Then she rolled her eyes and returned to her things. “Whatever. Just hope we don’t run into my big beefy boyfriend on the way back.”

She thought she saw him visibly blanch on her way out of the office. Of all the coworkers in all the world that she could have shared the cubicle duplex with, it had to be the one psychotic womanizer. He was one of those types who thought that the three hours daily he spent at the gym made him a fine specimen of mankind. Mostly, though, it had the same effect such habits had on small-minded men; as his muscles grew, his brain seemed to shrink away. She and some of the other girls had often joked that his quick anger was a result of the steroids he had to be pumping during his lunch break.

And, of course, he had taken a shine to her. And really, who wouldn’t? She was an uncannily beautiful girl, and could have her pick of any of the men in the office. But she didn’t want any of them…especially Carl. His little crush on her had turned into something quite uncomfortable. The day before, he’d followed her through half a mile of walking and two bus transfers. Just before she’d entered her apartment, she’d turned to see him sitting in his truck on the driveway and flipped him the bird. She’d engaged all three deadbolts before going to sleep, just to be on the safe side.

In reality, he was harmless, she knew. But she still wanted to thwart his efforts in any way possible. First of all, she wasn’t long for this job. Even if she’d wanted a relationship with him (a thought which made her shudder), it would have to end soon. Her contract would be up, and she would move along to greener pastures. And just about anything looked greener than Carl.

Sure enough, a quick glance behind her as she boarded the bus confirmed her suspicions. Her threat had been ignored; his truck would be right behind her every step of the way home. She tried to put it out of her mind. She plugged her ears with the headphones of her mp3 player, and she drowned out the sounds of the day with the heavy metal mix she’d been listening to for three years.

Serena exited the last bus almost an hour later, and she still had a ten minute walk ahead of her. It was a long commute, to be sure, but she found it relaxing. She didn’t have a car, because she hated to drive. Better to let someone else deal with the traffic, better to let someone else deal with bad weather. She enjoyed just kicking back and listening to music, or reading, or just daydreaming. Carl drove agonizingly slow behind her, lagging about half a block to, she supposed, give her some “space.” She rolled her eyes, suddenly wishing she actually did have a big, beefy boyfriend she could call.

She turned the corner into the petite little suburban neighborhood adjacent to her apartment complex and lo and behold, it was as though her prayer had gone right to the ears of God and God had said, “Okay, Serena, but just this once…” There he was, unloading a moving truck in front of the house that had been vacant for over a month. He looked mild-mannered enough; she could probably get away with this.

Plastering a huge smile on her face, she flung her arms wide and started across the street happily. “Well hello there!” she cried as she headed toward him.

…

You wouldn’t know he was a computer geek to look at him. He was well-built, more so than most of his coworkers. He had dark hair which was a little long in the back, as he liked it, but the most noticeable of his features was his moustache. His long, thick handlebar moustache that had taken him at least a couple of years to grow and groom the way he wanted it. People always looked at him sideways, especially when he came into their office to fix their computers. Most of the time they looked at him wide-eyed and nervous, as though they were afraid he was there to rob them. But he didn’t mind that reaction too terribly much. He didn’t like scaring people, but it gave him a sense of confidence that he rarely knew in other aspects of his life.

Truth be told, he was a really laid-back guy. His mother always called him a “gentle old soul” but he wasn’t really sure what that meant. All he knew was, he was 26 years old, and it was time to move right along with life, get married, start a family.

That was why he stood where he stood now: in front of a pretty little house, fresh off the market, with a big backyard and lots of trees and bay windows in the front and a vanity in the master bath. He almost smiled to himself as he imagined the kids climbing trees and dogs running around like crazy. This was the direction he was supposed to be going, he was sure of it. This was where he was supposed to be. He sighed contentedly, then opened the back of the moving truck. There it was, his Stuff.

There wasn’t much Stuff. In fact, the amount of Stuff in the back of the truck was pretty pathetic. He really should have gotten a smaller truck, but when he rented it he thought he’d at least be bringing some of his furniture with him. That turned out not to be the case. An entire new set of living room and bedroom furniture was being delivered the next day, hand-picked by the love of his life. She would be here in four days. Things had to be ready for her when she arrived. He cleared his throat and reached into his truck to pull out the first box. Suddenly, he heard a shriek of glee behind him.

Greg turned just in time to see an extremely pretty girl walking toward him with a big smile and her arms open. Before he could point out that she’d obviously made a huge mistake and that there was no way a guy like him knew a girl like her well enough to warrant a hug in the middle of the street, she’d closed the gap between them and was clutching him fiercely. His stomach lurched a little as her hands moved to the back of his neck and she turned her face toward his. This was not happening. This couldn’t be happening. How was a guy expected to say no to something like this?

“There’s a guy at the end of the street in a green truck who’s been following me for an hour. I would be greatly appreciative if you would go along with this and walk me home.”

He paused for a moment, turning his head to cast her a confused look before glancing down the street. Sure enough, a green truck sat there, engine running, waiting.

“Please,” she continued, her eyes almost begging. “I only live right around the corner.”

“Well,” he grumbled, as though he were thinking it over. “I suppose that’s something I could consider doing.”

The girl released him with a triumphant smile and held out her arm for him to take. “Shall we then?”

The walk to her apartment really was quite short. Greg hadn’t even been aware of this complex, practically right behind his house. He worried that Molly wouldn’t approve, that she’d want to move. She was afraid of getting robbed and had previously vetoed all homes within spitting distance of any apartment complex she deemed too “ghetto.” But this didn’t look ghetto at all. It was quite pleasant, actually. Greg glanced around as the two entered, a little impressed and thinking that this was the kind of place that he’d have rented…while he was still single, of course.

He turned and looked at his new companion, who was glancing anxiously behind her. The green truck had followed them all the way to the front driveway of the apartments, but at that moment was apparently satisfied. It turned around sharply and sped away. Greg raised his eyebrows and looked at her again. She giggled and turned to face him.

“Thank God he’s gone. That’s the second day in a row, and I doubt I’ve seen the last of it.”

“Who is he?” Greg asked incredulously.

“Oh, just some creep,” she answered. She shoved her hands in her coat pockets and strolled along as if she didn’t have a care in the world. He was a little surprised and very intrigued…so intrigued, in fact, that it didn’t even occur to him that he probably shouldn’t be so intrigued. He walked slightly behind her cautiously. She hadn’t dismissed him, but the danger seemed to be over, so…

“Don’t be such a little lamb, dude,” she called over her shoulder to him. “If you wanna walk with me, walk with me.”

He hesitated a moment, glancing behind him at the street which led to his house, then hurried forward until he was walking next to her. “Uh…I’m Greg,” he said haltingly.

She turned and flashed him a brilliant grin. “Serena,” she answered, sticking her hand out toward him as they walked. He shook it shyly, then rubbed his hand up and down the back of his neck.

“Uh…have you lived here long?”

“Only a few months,” was her short reply. When it seemed she wasn’t going to elaborate, he went on.

“What do you do?”

“You mean for a living?” she asked, looking a little surprised.

“Yeah,” he responded.

“Doesn’t matter,” she answered with a flippant wave of her hand.

“Well, sure it does,” he argued. “What you do is a reflection of who you are.”

She stopped suddenly and looked at him as though he’d just deeply offended her. “No, it isn’t. What you do for work has nothing to do with who you are. It’s how you do it that counts.”

Greg suddenly felt ashamed of his ignorance, but he wasn’t sure why, since he still thought he was right. When she kept walking, he hesitated again before rushing forward once more. “So,” he said pressingly. “How do you do it?”

She smiled without looking at him. “I do it well, with integrity and morality. I work hard, and I make sure I’m given what I’m due. How do you do it?” she returned expectantly.

Greg thought about it for a minute, grinning a little, as though he thought that by doing so he could make it all a little less serious for him. “Well…I do it well, I guess. I love it, so I guess I do it with love. I try to care about the people I work with, see how things are affecting them.” Something struck him suddenly. “Sometimes I lie to people about things to spare their feelings. You’d be surprised how emotional people get about this kind of thing.”

He stopped short then, realizing that she didn’t know what kind of thing he was talking about. He was about to tell her when he heard her voice say brightly, “Well, here I am. Thanks a lot for the walk Greg.”

And with that, she’d climbed the steps and disappeared into her apartment. He stayed for a minute, then turned and left the complex.

“Strange,” he thought as he walked back to the house, and this one word repeated itself in his mind several more times. It was the only word he could think of to describe it. As he continued unloading the truck, the back of his neck tingled with the memory of her fingers there.

“That’s dangerous, Greg,” he said aloud, trying to shake the feeling from his skin. “Dangerous, dangerous. Strange.”