Doug and Marie-Ange, Friday
Mar. 23rd, 2007 09:50 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsA short series of scenelets. A Friday full of missed opportunities at the Snow Valley offices.
Doug should have been paying attention to whatever Remy was saying, and the meeting they were having, but his attention kept wandering. His pencil scratched along the lined grid of his engineering pad, but rather than taking notes, he was doodling after a fashion. Not any sort of artwork, since his talent in that regard was nonexistent. But a fractal pattern spiraled out from the center of the page as he traced lines in random directions, his mind jumping from thought to thought in the same way.
By comparison, Marie-Ange was writing notes. Not on what Remy was saying, of course. That was what the mini-recorder in her shoulder bag was for. Notes on her to do list, and on the supplies she needed to add the floating shelves in her living room, and a list of 'groceries'. Which for Marie-Ange was all microwavable boxed food - and coffee.
Doug's pencil stilled for a moment as his thoughts turned to the redhead across the table from him. Instead of looking off unfocusedly at one of the walls, his eyes stole briefly to Marie-Ange as she bent over her notepad. She seemed very immersed in note-taking, unlike him. After watching her for a short period, he turned back to his drawing with a minute sigh.
The sigh caught Marie-Ange's attention, but recognizing the voice that made it, she finished her list of necessary art supplies before looking up. It must've been something Remy said to frustrate Doug, she thought, because he was certainly grumpy looking, and making jabby little motions on his notepad with his pencil. She'd have to go back and listen to the tape later.
---
Doug had volunteered to do the daily coffee run for the entire office. The trio of girls who worked at the local coffee shop were pretty funny. Snarky and sarcastic, especially in the case of the one who spoke in the slightest of Southern accents, but funny. He juggled the carton of drinks in one hand and knocked on the doorframe to Marie-Ange's office.
On one wall of Marie-Ange's office, she had a backlit blueprint frame, and she was looking at it critically, one hand making marks on an overlay sheet with a grease pencil. She didn't hear the knock until Doug knocked a second time, and then looked up and smiled. "I did not hear you.." She explained.
Doug smiled back. "That's all right," he answered. He held up the carton and selected one of the cups. "One white chocolate caramel hazelnut cappucino," he announced as he handed it to her, trying not to think about the way her hand brushed against his.
Marie-Ange blinked at the coffee for a moment, surprised, and took a sip, and made an identifably happy noise. It was good coffee. Pretentious and not really 'coffee', but it was exactly what she'd wanted. "Merci.." She said, turning back to her blueprints.
Doug watched her for a moment as she gazed intently at the drawings. He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue. But they refused to come out, so he turned and walked out of the office instead.
---
The work day was over, and it was time for the weekend. Not that Doug had a lot of plans beyond logging on to World of Warcraft and helping his raid guild progress in the new endgame content for the expansion. He slung his laptop bag higher on his shoulder as he walked out the doors of the Snow Valley offices and hit the button to call the elevator.
"Hold the elevator please?" Marie-Ange called, heading out of the office just as the elevator doors started closing.
Doug hit the "hold open" button as Marie-Ange picked up her pace and jogged toward the elevator. As the doors closed, he looked over at his ex-girlfriend. "Hey," he said lamely, unable to think of anything else to say.
"Hey to you." Marie-Ange said, smiling tiredly. It was odd, but the boring weeks seemed like they were longer than the not-so-boring ones. Those were painful, but at least they were not -tedious-. "Did you make plans for your weekend?" She asked.
Doug shrugged. "Not really. We've got a raid tonight. Starting Serpentshrine Cavern, so it'll probably be a lot of wipes while we learn the encounters." Not that he figured Angie really kept up on World of Warcraft content, especially since they weren't dating anymore.
"But this is not the fish-men, is it?" Marie-Ange still wasn't entirely sure what the fish-men were for, but the noise was silly. "Is this the giant fish-man place? That you showed me... before? With Jamie?" She still didn't understand how so many people managed to work together on those games, but it seemed to make them happy.
"No, that's Wailing Caverns," Doug corrected absently. He had figured that talking about World of Warcraft might put her off, as he really had no idea what to say. A long pause ensued, and Doug hunched against the far wall, his eyes stealing across to Marie-Ange. She looked good, even after a day in the office. Suddenly, he turned to her. "Angie, I..." he started, only to have the elevator doors open and several other young professionals enter and crowd them toward the back wall. The words died in his throat, and he went back to staring off into space and waiting for the elevator to let them all out so he could drive home.
Doug should have been paying attention to whatever Remy was saying, and the meeting they were having, but his attention kept wandering. His pencil scratched along the lined grid of his engineering pad, but rather than taking notes, he was doodling after a fashion. Not any sort of artwork, since his talent in that regard was nonexistent. But a fractal pattern spiraled out from the center of the page as he traced lines in random directions, his mind jumping from thought to thought in the same way.
By comparison, Marie-Ange was writing notes. Not on what Remy was saying, of course. That was what the mini-recorder in her shoulder bag was for. Notes on her to do list, and on the supplies she needed to add the floating shelves in her living room, and a list of 'groceries'. Which for Marie-Ange was all microwavable boxed food - and coffee.
Doug's pencil stilled for a moment as his thoughts turned to the redhead across the table from him. Instead of looking off unfocusedly at one of the walls, his eyes stole briefly to Marie-Ange as she bent over her notepad. She seemed very immersed in note-taking, unlike him. After watching her for a short period, he turned back to his drawing with a minute sigh.
The sigh caught Marie-Ange's attention, but recognizing the voice that made it, she finished her list of necessary art supplies before looking up. It must've been something Remy said to frustrate Doug, she thought, because he was certainly grumpy looking, and making jabby little motions on his notepad with his pencil. She'd have to go back and listen to the tape later.
---
Doug had volunteered to do the daily coffee run for the entire office. The trio of girls who worked at the local coffee shop were pretty funny. Snarky and sarcastic, especially in the case of the one who spoke in the slightest of Southern accents, but funny. He juggled the carton of drinks in one hand and knocked on the doorframe to Marie-Ange's office.
On one wall of Marie-Ange's office, she had a backlit blueprint frame, and she was looking at it critically, one hand making marks on an overlay sheet with a grease pencil. She didn't hear the knock until Doug knocked a second time, and then looked up and smiled. "I did not hear you.." She explained.
Doug smiled back. "That's all right," he answered. He held up the carton and selected one of the cups. "One white chocolate caramel hazelnut cappucino," he announced as he handed it to her, trying not to think about the way her hand brushed against his.
Marie-Ange blinked at the coffee for a moment, surprised, and took a sip, and made an identifably happy noise. It was good coffee. Pretentious and not really 'coffee', but it was exactly what she'd wanted. "Merci.." She said, turning back to her blueprints.
Doug watched her for a moment as she gazed intently at the drawings. He opened his mouth, words on the tip of his tongue. But they refused to come out, so he turned and walked out of the office instead.
---
The work day was over, and it was time for the weekend. Not that Doug had a lot of plans beyond logging on to World of Warcraft and helping his raid guild progress in the new endgame content for the expansion. He slung his laptop bag higher on his shoulder as he walked out the doors of the Snow Valley offices and hit the button to call the elevator.
"Hold the elevator please?" Marie-Ange called, heading out of the office just as the elevator doors started closing.
Doug hit the "hold open" button as Marie-Ange picked up her pace and jogged toward the elevator. As the doors closed, he looked over at his ex-girlfriend. "Hey," he said lamely, unable to think of anything else to say.
"Hey to you." Marie-Ange said, smiling tiredly. It was odd, but the boring weeks seemed like they were longer than the not-so-boring ones. Those were painful, but at least they were not -tedious-. "Did you make plans for your weekend?" She asked.
Doug shrugged. "Not really. We've got a raid tonight. Starting Serpentshrine Cavern, so it'll probably be a lot of wipes while we learn the encounters." Not that he figured Angie really kept up on World of Warcraft content, especially since they weren't dating anymore.
"But this is not the fish-men, is it?" Marie-Ange still wasn't entirely sure what the fish-men were for, but the noise was silly. "Is this the giant fish-man place? That you showed me... before? With Jamie?" She still didn't understand how so many people managed to work together on those games, but it seemed to make them happy.
"No, that's Wailing Caverns," Doug corrected absently. He had figured that talking about World of Warcraft might put her off, as he really had no idea what to say. A long pause ensued, and Doug hunched against the far wall, his eyes stealing across to Marie-Ange. She looked good, even after a day in the office. Suddenly, he turned to her. "Angie, I..." he started, only to have the elevator doors open and several other young professionals enter and crowd them toward the back wall. The words died in his throat, and he went back to staring off into space and waiting for the elevator to let them all out so he could drive home.
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