David & Doug: Workaholics (backdated)

[x-maverick.livejournal.com]

Doug comes by the medlab to pass David a little something to help him through his stay.




Doug absolutely understood the desire to have something - anything - to do while laid up and recovering. Too much time in one's own head could lead to craziness. So when David North sent an "SOS" to him, he was totally sympathetic. And he headed to the mansion with supplies.

"It's funny, I was part of the crowd pooh-pooh-ing the iPad when they first announced it, but I have to admit, it's a pretty handy concept." He handed over one of the slim tablets to North. "You've got stuff for work on there, but you can also use the Wifi and download books or periodicals if you just feel like reading for a while."

“Thanks,” David replied with a smile, placing it on his lap before his trembling hands lost purchase on it. “I appreciate it.” Actually, he was ridiculously grateful for Doug right then. Going insane from inactivity was perhaps not the best of ways to go, especially after being narrowly retrieved from the brink of death. “It has secure access to the SV systems, ja?”

"Naturlich," Doug replied, his German accent these days something a blend of North's own combined with Kurt Wagner's Bavarian one. "I should maybe be offended that you had to ask?" He wasn't really, it was a perfectly reasonable question.

“Nein” the other man replied easily, pushing the circular button on the device and looking at it with interest as it lit up. “Some colleagues might object to me working right now.” David glanced up from to iPad to grace Doug with a sardonic quirk to his brow and lips. “They forget how my continued existence is intrinsically linked to it.” It was a joke, except probably not really.

"Eh, I think most of us understand the urge." Plenty of X-Force had unhealthy work habits as a coping mechanism. Wanda, for one that he could think of off the top of his head. He was, of course, avoiding the elephant in the room, namely why North was residing in the medlab. But then, he could definitely respect not wanting to talk about it. And it was only fair to respect that urge in others if he wanted it respected himself. Not that people often did. "There's always too much work, and not enough time to do it in, for us."

North hummed in agreement. “Perks of being in a job that has a never-ending to-do list,” he commented, poking at the icon that said ‘Mail’ and watching as the application loaded. “Do you need to return to your own workaholic tendencies? Or can you stay and show me how this works?”

The German man met Doug’s gaze with a knowing, commiserating look that contained an easy-to-miss shred of appreciation for not bringing up his drug problem despite the obvious symptoms of withdrawal. His vision may be bleary, but North did not need a crystal sharp gaze to know what those eyebags, deep-seated tiredness and tensed shoulder muscles meant. “Miss Miller cooks enough to feed ten men so you can remain for lunch if you don’t mind the little chatterbox.”

Layla had been in the mental link that had tracked Thomas Moreau's consciousness down. And Doug's instinct was to avoid those people as much as possible. Of course, some of those people seemed to be seeking him out. And Layla of all of them was less likely to ask him pointed questions. Still... "I can stay and show you, but I think I'll pass on Layla's cooking."

“Pull up a chair,” David instructed in reply, reaching for his plastic cup of water with a shaking hand. Thankfully, someone had placed a plastic lid on the cup with a hole for a straw for his convenience, or he might have emptied it on the tablet. “There’s instant coffee and tea over by that table as well. You’ll have to pardon my lack of hosting skills,” was the wry apology that belied a certain kind of frustration. “I would have made you a cup myself, but I am apparently not to leave this bed without permission.

"Quite all right," Doug said reassuringly, availing himself of the instant tea. "So, the iPad. Touch screen, quite handy, really." He leaned over and indicated various icons for email and other applications that would be useful to North.

Happy with the fact that it had internet access, Snow Valley file access and a steady flow of information coming in with through some jazzed up news application, the older man spent a while figuring out how the tactile-less keyboard worked and rolled his eyes skywards when Doug showed him where his punctuations were. “I should have asked for my blackberry as well,” he realised, somewhat belatedly.

"Well, what do I have here?" Doug asked theatrically, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a phone. It was the same model as the one North referred to, but clearly newer. "I'm not brave enough to break into your place and get yours, but I save all the settings for cloning up replacement phones, so this'll do for now."

“I will find some way to repay your thoughtfulness,” David promised, accepting the phone with disguised glee, powering it up with his unsteady fingers. “Clearly, I am in your debt.”

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind the next time you put out the latest human resources form to be filled out in triplicate."