Greg liked the Game Stop on Tropicana. Mostly he liked it because it was close to the lab and was pretty dead in the mornings when he got off shift. It gave him ample time to sort through the racks and bins of games on his continued quest for something that will take his mind off the atrocities that his job brings.
The Harvest Moon series was currently a favorite. He first ran across it when he picked up his Super Nintendo at a Garage Sale in his neighborhood. It came with two controllers, all the cables, and the quirky farming game. The game served its purpose, to waste hours of time and make for better dreams. Dreams of planting crops and tending his animals and wooing the barmaid rather than blood spatter and decomp.
And the SNES looked pretty good sitting next to his Sega Genesis. Sure they were old school in terms of the technology that was available today, and he did love his PS3 and Wii, but the simplistic pleasure in Columns and Sonic the Hedgehog - and even a few rounds of Street Fighter, took him back to a simpler time in his life…when he didn't see people on the worst day of their lives.
Growing up as an overprotected, only child of two successful parents, he'd always had the best the gaming world had to offer. Intellivision, Atari, Nintendo, handheld systems and progressively better systems were all wrapped up for his birthdays and Christmases.
Greg only ever really wanted to try out for sports, or ride his bicycle without his parents around, or do something, anything, outside with his friends. Instead he had his games and his adventures with his parents. And the crushing weight of being the only child his parents would ever have.
Computers were more functional for him than solely as a conduit for games. When you grew up with a joystick in your hand, using the keyboard for playing games didn't hold much appeal. But all of that changed when he met Allie.
He knew her name from announcements and had seen her around campus. She was an 8th grader, had academic honors and scholarly pursuits. From rumors, he knew she was a teacher's pet and total brain, not someone most people looked at twice. Certainly not with her curly brown hair pulled p into a banana clip most of the time, not when other girls had their glorious, coiffed manes, pulled up and away from their pretty, fresh faces. She was perpetually in 501's and t-shirts that looked to be more for comfort and practicality than fashion. Probably the only thing that stood out as a fashionable was her Reebok's, but they were probably more for function too.
He was struggling with his 7th grade computer science class and she was one of the older students who helped out in the lab. She had been asked by the teacher to help him out adding a graphic to his program, and after spending thirty fruitless minutes explaining the concept and only receiving a blank stare, she went and retrieved a floppy disk from her Trapper Keeper.
It was a game. Not just a game, but a game she had written. It was really good and when Greg told her so she blushed so very prettily. The rosy glow of her cheeks and her suddenly-shy smile made him want to do things with her, to her, like take that clip out of her hair and find out if it was as soft as it looked.
They talked about computers and games for a bit once his assignment was finished. When he mentioned the Macintosh his mom had just bought him she became so hyper-excited that Greg spoke before he could think and told her she could come over and see it anytime.
"Today?" She asked eyes bright, a huge smile on her face.
"Um, sure, just let me call my mom and make sure it's okay," Greg said as he wiped his suddenly-sweaty palms on his pants. They agreed to meet in the library during lunch break to make sure it was a go.
After he called his mom from the payphone in the cafeteria (carefully mentioning a friend wanting to come over and help him with his computer homework, but leaving out the sex of said friend), he found her in the librarian's office. He didn't want to intrude on their conversation, but Allie waved him in and he stood there perplexed as the two of them finished up their conversation about a new computer system the school was considering for the library.
And then, they were at his house, alone, and it was a little awkward. That was, until she caught sight of the little, boxy computer perched on the desk in the family room. She cooed over the menus and the mouse and started typing furiously until it started playing a song. She opened all the programs and closed them, ran some tests, and then opened up something and told Greg to get his computer homework.
It worked out really well and they were inseparable from then on. She taught Greg how to really use his computer and he helped her become a trained killer on the games. His mom didn't really approve, making comments about how unladylike it seemed to be so into the backside of the computer world and those violent games.
Greg thought Allie was fabulous. He had a friend that was into computers and games, and so very, very smart.
And a girl.
A girl with breasts.
Who didn't seem to mind when he touched them while they made out on the couch every afternoon when they reached his house.
Their first kiss had been an accident. He'd been looking over her shoulder at something on the screen when she turned her head and their lips met. It was odd and awkward, but the way it stole the breath from his lungs and made his heart race made it all perfect.
They had never progressed any further than some fumbling on the couch and a few wet pairs of jeans after a heated session or two. At the end of the school year her family had moved off and he hadn't heard from her until he was searching for something online years ago and ran across her name on a website. He sent her an e-mail and they had been in contact ever since.
She ran a computer consulting firm with her husband from their home. With her four kids and a menagerie of pets. So much for his mom's theory of her not being "proper" wife material.
She teased him via e-mail and chatting about his gaming and he teased back that his "mad skills" had driven her to a fellow computer geek. Her husband had even sent him a few e-mails concerning a system they were putting together for their local police department and inquired as to what Greg's ideal system would include.
Greg was brought out of his musing by a woman at the counter.
"Look, it's just one Super Nintendo game. It was stolen from my house. I really don't care about prosecuting, I just want it back." She was holding a list in her hand and looked to be pretty upset. "My insurance company has already cut me a check, but I need to find a location that is selling it. Can't you call or e-mail the other stores. It's one of my all time favorite games."
Curious and more than a bit intrigued by her love for a SNES game, he edged closer to listen to the conversation. The woman was about his age, brown hair and curves in all the right places.
This woman could very well be his soul mate.
The clerk doesn't seem to care that there could be a possible convergence of fates happening at that very moment, but is instead annoyed and dialing another store. "What's the name of it again?" he asked the woman.
"Norse by Norsewest: Lost Vikings 2," she replied and the clerk turned his back on her to talk to the other store.
"If he can't find you a copy, I have a copy I could sell you." Greg said as he walked up to the counter.
"Um," she fidgeted a bit and Greg could see how kind of freaky what he saidactually was.
"Look," he pulled out his identification from the lab, "I work for the crime lab. I promise I'm not a serial killer or anything."
"You must not watch Dexter then," she said, but her smile seemed to take the edge off the situation a bit. She was careful and took the time to look over Greg's ID, even taking it out of the holder and giving it a thorough inspection.
She told him about the break-ins that have been happening in her neighborhood; luckily the thieves had only made off with her gaming systems before the police showed up, but she was scared to go home alone, and was even considering moving. Greg told her about his ordeal when she said something about him looking familiar. About getting beat up and how the old games had helped keep the nightmares at bay. They were just getting into the merits of Sega Genesis Sonic versus PS3's version when the clerk hung up the phone and turned back to them.
"I called our regional manager. He suggested checking online for it or maybe, I don't know e-bay," the clerk didn't look like it really mattered that much to him. So much for customer service.
"Look, um," he wracked his brain for her name, fearing that she'd said it and he'd somehow forgotten it.
"Sorry Greg. Allison," her quirky smile and outstretched hand were all he needed to confirm the woman in front of him as a potential partner.
"Why don't you meet me at the Starbuck's on Flamingo and Eastern? I'll swing by my place, pick up the game, and meet you there to discuss the merits of Vikings traveling through time."