Log: Warren and Dom

[xp-domino.livejournal.com]

Warren has bad luck with computers and pick-up lines.

"No....nooo....NOOOOO!". Warren didn't care who ‎heard him as he desperately mashed on the keys of his laptop. Groaning, he threw himself back on his chair, his hands reaching up to cover his face.

What was the point of having the best technology money could buy if Microsoft Excel crashed, freezing his laptop, and leaving him with nothing to show for hours of work.

He knew he should have hit save.

Dom didn't normally go poking around in bits of the mansion that other people were in, but then, other people rarely started howling with disappointment when she was in earshot. She briefly wondered if this was a mutation thing, but the more she thought about it the more she recognised the sound of someone in serious pain over an IT problem. And that she could help with.

When she popped a head around the corner she was gratified to see a rather handsome-looking blond man staring at a laptop in consternation. Bingo. "Let me guess - Windows being a bitch?"

Warren peeked at the woman through his fingers, his hands still firmly on his face. "Was my scream obvious?" Frowning sadly, he motioned to his laptop. "I swear, I did everything right -- I hit the right buttons, I whispered sweet nothings into its processor...I even stroked the keys. Nothing." He smacked the side of the laptop. "Makes me promises and leaves me begging."

"Sounds like you have bigger problems than just a laptop," Dom smirked, slouching into the room. "Want me to take a look?"

Warren pushed himself away from his desk and raised his hands up. "Please. ‎ I desperately need to send those excel sheets to myself. Millions of dollars are riding on this. Fix this, and anything you want, anything -- it's yours."

"Anything, huh?" Dom slid into a chair and scooted it over to the desk, resisting the urge to crack her knuckles before getting to work. "Be careful what promises you make, they could end up costing you a lot of money."

"Spending money on beautiful women is my second most favourite thing to do with them," he quipped, standing up over her. "Go ahead. Ask me what my favourite thing is."

"Yeeeeeah I'm not going to do that," Dom replied, leaning over the keyboard. "Why don't you tell me what you do when you're not facing off against recalcitrant operating systems instead?"

"I make a lot of money," Warren responded smoothly.

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"VP of Operations for Worthington Industries." He smiled. "Small company. Probably haven't even heard of it."

"Oh I have, actually," Dom replied, pausing in her ministrations to shoot Warren a smirk. "I heard their VP of Ops was shit at computers."

"I can't even work my iPad," he admitted, giving her a boyish grin. "Thankfully, I can pay someone to do it for me. Which," Warren added, "reminds me: what do you want from me? Your wish is my command."‎

"Mm. Can I wish for a hundred more wishes? Eternal life? All my enemies dead and dusted?"

Warren pondered this for a moment, rubbing his chin in thought. "Well, seeing as my only frame of reference for genies is Disney's Aladdin, I'm fairly certain those are all banned wishes. Same as true love and bringing people back from the dead. So, that's a no on those, unfortunately. Although," he added, "I can take care of those nasty enemies for you. We'll just change your identity and then poof -- no enemies for a Miss Constance Green. Instead, you can be an unassuming librarian. Deal?"

"Ugh. A librarian? Can't I be something with an actual salary instead? You must have some positions open in that company of yours, right? VP of Saving Your Ass?"

"I believe that's called Personal Assistant," was his amused reply. "And I happen to have one who is very attached to her position. I wouldn't put it past her to murder you in your sleep.". He gave a proud smile. "She's very loyal."

"Congratulations," Dom said dryly. She hoped the woman got paid a lot, if this little glimpse into Golden Boy's insanely high self-esteem was anything to go by. But hey, if he really did have as much money as he said he did it was probably warranted. "But I think I'll avoid the sleep-murdering."

"Probably a good call," he agreed, nodding. Taking a step back, he quirked an eyebrow at his laptop. "Is it redeemable? Or am I doomed to do this all over again?‎"

She lifted her finger to her lips to shush him and then, with a few more keystrokes, grinned as the Excel file reappeared on the screen in its entirety. "Et voila," she said, her French accent deplorable. Let's see his magic assistant do that. "Good as new."

"I'd kiss you if I wasn't 100% convinced you'd ‎shank me in return." Peering onto the screen, he saw all his figures, happy in their rows and columns, exactly how he left them. "Although, I'm willing to risk a rib if you're game."

"Nope," came the reply, and Dom shoved her chair back to let him at the laptop. "Definitely nope. I only take payment for services rendered in beer and wishes."

"Beer I can provide. Wishes, as long as they can be bought." Warren grinned. "And I've found that most things can be. ‎What are you doing later on? I like to clear my debts as soon as possible."

Suddenly Dom realised that keeping him waiting sounded like the perfect revenge for his lame pickup lines. "Oh, I'm busy later," she said with a sad shake of her head. "I guess you'll just have to take a raincheck on paying me back."

Warren shrugged. "Gives me more time to think of an appropriate reward," he responded unfazed. "I do appreciate this..and I just realized I never properly introduced myself. Warren Worthington. Thank you again."

"Mmhmm. No problem." She hopped up and shoved her hands in her jean pockets. "Dom. I'll catch you later, Warren."