A large, booming crash outside of his cubicle startled Craig enough to jump with a small yelp; with concerns to safety, he peeked over the top of the half-walls that separated each desk. In the direction of the sound was his coworker, Wheatley, frantically searching under, over, around, and practically through his desk with the large filing cabinet that they all had in their offices over turned, papers strewn everywhere. The tall man was muttering to himself while he searched along the cracks between the floor and the cubicle walls.

Craig cleared his throat in hopes of catching his attention. There was no response, other than a hopeful gasp, then a disappointed swear. Craig's eyebrows knitted together and he cleared his throat again, causing Wheatley to look up—and promptly smack his head on the desk.

"Bloody—Oh, hullo Craig," Wheatley said, turning to wave from his spot on the floor, "Uh, heh heh, sorry about the mess, didn't meant to startle you, if that's what you're looking at me for."

"I'm looking at a madman searching about his office for something that must be vitally important, just what are you up to?" Craig said, rubbing his forehead.

Wheatley mimicked the action, suddenly remembering he'd bonked himself on the head, "OH, I'm just searching for my mobile, I left it on the desk, ruddy thing must've gotten up and left."

"Would you like me to call it for you?"

"Call it? Craig, if you wanted to talk, I'm looking straight at you and I couldn't rightly answer it anyway, that just seems… rather pointless if you ask me."

"You have a ringtone, correct? Is it on?"

"Uhm, yes, I think so. Unless the damned thing died."

Without asking for further permission, Craig pulled his own cell phone from his blazer pocket and passed it to Wheatley, carefully leaning over the flimsy walls until the other man could grasp it. He glanced down at the thing, then back up at his pink-eyed coworker seemingly confused like Craig tried to give him his phone as a gift or something.

"Call your phone. Punch in the number, it'll ring and you can better find it."

"OH! That's brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?" Wheatley cried, excitedly punching his number into the phone after a moment's time of recollection.

Thankfully, he remembered the number without all too much struggle and soon, a shrill ring came from underneath Wheatley's keyboard and he dived for it, pulling out a small mobile phone and holding it up triumphantly. Craig winced at the loud ringing and shook his head, it was literally that easy, but of course Wheatley couldn't think of that.

"Thank you! I owe you one, Craig, I really do. That was really clever, calling it like that, I'll have to remember that little trick," Wheatley was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet offering Craig his phone back.

"Please, don't mention it," Craig said in a very serious deadpan and slipped back to his desk.

"Still! Thank you!" came the final call.

Well, at least that would stave off any obtrusive noises for the rest of the day, if things went well. Craig went about his work like he normally would.

Wheatley on the other hand was completely mystified that Craig would even be remotely nice to anyone, without giving thought to perhaps it was in Craig's best interest to help keep Wheatley quiet. No, he was focusing on a good deed done by a surprising source. He sat at his desk and glanced at the most recent missed call—and immediately saved it, punching in Craig's name so he was on his very short contact's list.

Craig, of course, did no such thing. He had no intention of socializing with any coworkers outside of necessary office interaction, so he simply went home and forgot he ever even spoke to anyone. There was nothing important to remember, until he got a strange text while he was sitting in bed, reading.

The phone vibrated on the bedside table and Craig raised an eyebrow. He never got texts or calls from anyone, really. He carefully put a bookmark in his book and set it aside to grab the phone and open the message.

'I wanted to thank you again for helping me out today, it was sweet of you.'

Convinced they had the wrong number, Craig tapped out 'I apologize, but you have the wrong number.' He set aside the phone and reached for his book, but the phone vibrated again.

'This isn't Craig? I swear I didn't mess up the number…'

Evidently it was meant for him. Craig stared for a moment before sending back 'How did you get my number?'

This time, Craig managed to put the phone down and got the book back in his lap. Just when he was catching up to where he left off, it buzzed again.

'Uhm, you gave it to me, remember?'

Unless this was their boss texting him on a casual level, no one should have his number to his knowledge. He simply forgot about the incident with Wheatley, thinking it of little importance. He peered at the phone, though it would give him the answer if he glared at it long enough, but it didn't. So instead, he sent back a swift, 'I don't recall. Who is this?'

'Don't give your number to anyone very often, do you? That's kind of surprising, you're incredibly good looking, you know,' came back nearly immediately.

'If it is so important to know, no, I do not. I prefer to use this phone for emergencies only. Again, who is this?'

'Some pour soul you did a favor for today and managed to win him over, is all. Never seen you be nice before, it was a wonderful change.'

'It doesn't happen often or without reason,' Craig angrily tapped out the message, 'I'll ask for the last time, who is this?'

'I'll tell you tomorrow if you let me repay you the favor! Take you out to dinner, we can discuss it then. And perhaps more, who knows? ;)'

Craig rolled his eyes dramatically, but curiosity was getting the better of him, 'If you have the gall enough to text me anonymously, you should have enough gall to ask me out face to face. I'll give you my answer then and only then.'

There was a long stretch of silence from the other end. Craig almost thought he scared the person off, much to the dismay of his curiosity. He genuinely wanted to know because he could not remember being more than strictly civil with anyone that day. He'd like to know simply for keenly avoiding making this mistake again. He kept people at bay pretty expertly, this was simply a judgment in error he needed to correct. Finally, the phone buzzed for the last time.

'Okay. I'll meet you at your desk first thing in the morning. Good night, Craig~'

Well, with that assurance he'd find out, Craig didn't bother to reply, but settled down to sleep instead. He had to prepare to reject someone early, after all.

Without even meaning to, he arrived at work early and began his work, attempting to take his mind off of speculating who his mystery sender could have been. It made him antsy to think about and the possibilities piling up just made him more uncomfortable.

"Uhm, Craig?" came a voice and he turned to the wall of his cubicle where Wheatley was leaning over the top with what one could assume was an attempt at a charming smile, "Good morning, there, love."

Craig raised an eyebrow in suspicion until it clicked, "It was you."

"Haha, caught me," Wheatley said, rubbing the back of his neck somewhat nervously, "So how about it? Dinner, Friday night, with me?"

There was silence for a long moment, Craig's face was a mix between anger and detestation, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock. Wheatley had been suggestively texting him late at night, he wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that.

"Wheatley," he began, pulling his glasses off to rub his eyelids, "Never text me again."

"…that isn't a no," the other man pointed out.

"I will not fetch you a dictionary or some kind of guide for social etiquette, Wheatley, do not text me," Craig snapped, turning back to his keyboard to return to revising spreadsheets with a huff.

Wheatley frowned, but sank back to his desk with a thoughtful expression. That still wasn't a no.