Mic Check
By MMW
Vin sighed. He'd finished his preliminary report. The voice
recognition software seemed to make it easier, but he wanted to be sure it was
OK before someone from the Admin group came to collect the reports. Hitting
print, he rolled his neck and looked around. The rest of the office was empty.
This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it made it easier to concentrate, but he
wished that just for once he could get out of here on time.
Standing to walk over to the printer, he stopped as the
elevator doors slid open. Glancing down the hall, he saw one of the newer
Admins coming down the hall, Meredith. They'd hung out at the Saloon for a
little while on Friday before she left. She seemed like a nice enough person.
He'd felt an odd jolt when their eyes met while she was saying her goodbyes. It
was definitely a pleasant feeling, but he couldn't quite put it into words.
"Hey," he greeted as she made her way into the room.
"Hey yourself," she returned, grabbing the stack of
reports from the out box. Then seeing him collecting papers off of the printer
she asked, "Is that your report?"
Vin looked at the papers. Her tone hadn't been even remotely
condescending, yet he still felt embarrassed by his slow pace. Fighting the
blush that wanted to be born, he took the papers and explained, "JD just
installed that new voice software on my PC so I could speak out my reports.
Sort of set me back some."
Meredith smiled, "Isn't that what new, easy to use
software is supposed to do? Make life more complicated and take longer?"
Vin smiled at her observation. Seeing her smile, he felt any
anxiety begin to flee as he saw no condemnation or teasing in her eyes, though
he did feel a warmth flow from them, a much gentler feel than the jolt he had
received at the saloon. "Haven't had a chance to look it over," he
said, moving toward his desk.
"I'll take a quick look if you want," Meredith
offered taking a seat on top of his desk. When she'd met his eyes, she felt
comfortable warmth invade her. It was far less startling than the jolt she'd
felt on Friday. "I'm sure you're sick of this report by now," she
offered, smiling at the Sharpshooter.
Though he didn't want to admit any weakness, Vin knew he was
tired and it would take forever to read through it himself. With a small sigh
of resignation, he handed his report to Meredith and sat in his chair to await
her criticism.
Taking the papers and seeing the reluctance in his face,
Meredith skimmed over the first paragraph. There were a few changes that would
need to be made but nothing major. Starting the second paragraph, her eyes
stopped dead in their tracks. Ruthlessly suppressing the laughter that wanted
to erupt, she looked into Vin's eyes and asked, "Did you start this while
the others were in the office?"
Puzzled by what that question would have to do with his report,
Vin nodded his head.
"Did one of them maybe have a radio on?"
Again a nod.
Licking her lips and fighting the smile, Meredith explained,
"I think you need to see if IT can get you a less sensitive mic for your
PC."
"Why's that?" Vin asked, puzzled by her questions and
concluding statement.
"If I may read. This is from your description of the site:
Arrived at the site two hours prior to the event. I took my position in the
take a few ducklings out of your impenetrable day and fill out this
questionnaire the rafters." Looking up, she saw the flush on Vin's face
and felt a pang of guilt. She had just meant to alert him to the problem, not
embarrass him. As always she put her foot in it without trying. "I think I
remember part of this as a commercial on the radio, but I have no ideas where
the ducklings came from," she said with a smile, hoping that Vin would see
the humor.
Letting out a low groan, Vin tilted his head back, all his work
ruined. Now he'd have to rewrite the report.
Feeling her throat tighten as she noted Vin's failure to see
the humor of the situation, Meredith mentally cursed herself for pointing out
the problem. Trying desperately to think of some way to correct the situation,
she said, "I'll tell you what. Why don't we redo your report? You can
dictate it to me and I'll type as we go. Just, don't talk faster than 86 words
a minute." She offered a full-fledged smile to the distraught man.
Vin looked up and felt a smile pull at his lips in response to
her smile. "You'd do that for me?" he asked. Seeing Meredith nod he
offered a full-fledged smile of his own. "Well in that case, why don't you
take this seat?"
Moving to take the seat he had just vacated, Meredith adjusted
the keyboard so she could type more easily. "Remember," she
cautioned, "no more than 86 words per minute."
"Darlin'," Vin began, deliberately slowing and
drawling his words. "I'm from the South, we don't know how to talk
fast." This along with a large grin earned him a genuine laugh.
Moving the chair slightly, Meredith called up the program she
would need and nodded for him to begin dictating his report. As he began, she
typed away, stopping him occasionally so that she could catch up. Before
too long they had the required report finished.
"Would you like to keep the original last line?"
Meredith asked, mischief sparkling in her eye as she prepared to save the
report.
His brow furrowing in concentration as he tried to remember the last line,
couldn't and asked, "What was it?"
Clearing her throat, Meredith picked up the first report and
recited, "To make this a reality, mail the enclosed self-addressed postage
paid sock to us immediately." She glanced up, biting her lip until she
could see how he would take it. She saw his lips twitch upward and could see he
was fighting the smile. Soon he lost the battle and not only smiled, but began
laughing. Meredith joined him, the laughter helping her relax after a long day.
"I'll take that as a no," she said, hitting the print button.
Walking over to the printer she gathered the papers and added
them to the pile of other reports she intended to take with her. Turning to
look at Vin, she smiled and said, "Have a good night," before turning
back to head toward the elevators.
Seeing her turn to go, Vin realized he hadn't even said thank
you. "Wait!" he called out. Seeing her stop and turn, he read the
puzzled expression on her face. "You didn't even let me say thank
you," he said, taking a step or two closer.
Blushing slightly, Meredith waved away his thanks.
"Anytime," she offered sincerely. "After all Admins exist to
make everyone else's life easier," she said a smile lighting her face.
"Don't mean ya don't deserve a thank you every now and
then," Vin replied. Seeing her dip her head in acknowledgement, he asked,
"Have ya had dinner yet?"
"Not yet, I was going to bring these down and head
home," Meredith replied.
"Why don't you let me take you to dinner as a thank
you," Vin offered. Seeing her about to protest that she didn't deserve
such thanks, he added, "Please?" He knew the moment he added the
please he had won. He saw all the fight and protest leave her eyes.
"Let me drop these off and I'll meet you in the
lobby," she said.
"See you there in a few minutes," he agreed.
Dinner was a fun, if not fancy meal. A nearby diner supplied
good, if simple, food. The conversation remained light and laughter ruled the
meal. Finally finishing, the two headed out of the diner toward their cars.
"Thanks for dinner, Vin," Meredith said, her
sincerity evident in her voice.
"No, thank you for savin' my sanity," Vin countered.
"I swear if'n I had ta rewrite that thing one more time I'd like ta go plum
loco!" he declared with a smile.
Meredith let out a soft laugh. "Well," she said,
"anything to save the sanity of a co-worker." As their laughter
faded, she added, "If I were you I'd ask IT about a less sensitive mic. If
they can't get you one I'm afraid you're going to run into that problem
again."
Vin sighed. "Reckon your right," he replied, waiting
to be sure she got into her car and started it without a problem.
"Oh," she said as she opened the door to her car.
"The ducklings and self-addressed socks can be our little secret."
Seeing his grin, she slid behind the wheel of her car. Closing the door she
inserted the key and rolled down the window, adding, "But if it does
happen again, let me know and I'd be more than happy to help out - no dinner required."
Vin nodded his thanks as she started her car and drove away,
waving to the man standing in the street. "Self-addressed stamped
socks," he said, shaking his head. Light laughter at the thought escaped
him as he headed toward his Jeep. Leastways I got a friend out o' all this
mess, he thought, starting his Jeep and heading toward home.
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