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Portalocity Office | 13 Griffin Way | Thursday

Sam liked her job. Really, she did. Manning the desk and talking to people was pleasant enough, at least when they weren't yelling, and she enjoyed the challenge of finding coordinates and arranging portals. It was relaxing.

That all went to hell when the computer system wasn't working, though, especially given that, for some reason that she couldn't bring herself to understand, corporate wasn't able to send an IT technician over for another five days - despite the fact that Portalocity created portals that allowed for travel in time.

That was how a frustrated, antsy Specialist found herself flat on her back beneath the desk, fiddling with wires to try to make the system work again. Twenty-first century technology was pretty new to her, so this would likely take some time.

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And then sometimes Éponine wasn't planning on actually stopping in, but when she just happened to not see anyone through the window when she paused on her way past she got a little concerned.

So, therefore, crossing the street and walking inside to call "Is everything all right in there?" was a thing that had to happen.

"Wh- is that Éponine?" Sam called from under the desk. "Yes, I'm just doing some system maintenance. Ah -- how are you?"

"How'd you know it was me?" Éponine asked with a laugh. (How many people on this island sounded like a slightly higher-pitched old Marlon Brando with a French accent, though, really?)

She went and leaned over the edge of the desk to take a look. "Ah! There you are."

That and the fact that Éponine did visit the office every week. No one else on the island could say that.

"Here I am," Sam agreed, voice just a little strained. She was perfectly capable of repairing systems that she was familiar with and having a conversation at the same time (just travel to the future and ask EDI about it), but she could tell that multitasking with this equipment was going to be a bit of a chore. She gave a wire one last adjustment before pushing up off the floor and sitting up, brushing off her hands as she did so.

"Well," she said, with some slight false cheer, which had more to do with her own inability to solve this problem than anything caused by Éponine herself. "I'll get back to that later. How are you?"

. . . and that. Yes.

"Not having half as bothersome a day as you seem to have had so far," Éponine said, half smiling. "Now it's not so horribly hot and sticky out all the time it isn't so bad when I've got heavy packages to carry, and anyway there aren't any today so it's more like having a nice stroll than anything. But is there something I can do? I don't know anything about fixing machinery, but you seem a bit vexed, and I don't want you to be."

Sam let out a sigh, some of the tension going out of her shoulders. It was... nice to hear that last part.

"Just a break is fine for now," she said, sounding slightly warmer this time. "Which, would you look at that, you've just provided. Hello."

"Hello yourself, since I hadn't said so already," Éponine replied, and made a gesture that was somewhere between a nod and a curtsey. "And if that's all it takes, I'm happy to be of use. Only I didn't think to bring you anything to drink this time, but I can if you like."

She really needed to tone down the eager-to-please thing a bit.

Sam almost laughed, but caught herself with a firm reminder that, yeah, Éponine was serious.

"No, that's quite all right," she assured her. And, because sitting on the floor was weird at this point, she straightened up and reclaimed the chair behind her desk. "I've got a coffee machine buried in here somewhere, you know. Under some pile or another."

Éponine took a quick glance around, an incredibly cursory attempt at looking for said coffee machine, then laughed. "What on earth good will it do you there? You ought to find it; it'll be nice once it's colder and a bother to make the trip just to get something to drink."

"Would you believe me if I said I actually don't drink much coffee apart from when you bring it to me?" Sam wondered, smiling a little. "But I'm sure that if I ever have the need for it, I'll manage to find it. Perhaps that's a task I could delegate to the student who works here once a week."

"But I --" began Éponine, who then shook her head and gave Sam a mock-chiding look. "Well, I didn't think to ask if there was something else you'd like better. You ought to have told me, you know, and I'd have gotten it instead. But what will you do if the machine's gone and disappeared? One never knows, here -- it could perfectly well have walked off by itself."

Okay, she was mostly teasing about the last part.

"I somehow doubt that," Sam replied, dryly, but with a smile. "But if it has, hopefully it's found a more loving home. You might check the post office, see if there's a escaped gift for you there."

"And then what, hmm?" Éponine countered with a sly grin of her own. "Shall I keep it, or give it a nice lecture about wandering off unexpectedly?"

As if she had a leg to stand on when it came to telling anyone or anything not to do that.

"And if I do keep it, what'll you do if you suddenly decide you have need of it?"

"Well, as I said, I don't have much need of it," Sam reminded her, "but I do know where to find you if that should change, you know."

"In that case, if I find it, I'll just hold on to it, won't I, and give you a reason to visit?" Which was probably a foolish thing to say, and she hadn't meant to, but too late for that now.

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Portalocity Office | 13 Griffin Way | Thursday

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