A/N: A BIG thanks to my only reviewers Jade St. Jms and chozinha. This story would quite literally be gone without you. Here's chapter three.
Disclaimer: I disclaim.
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Jane snapped her phone closed and a silence filled the car. They arrived at the stoplight, and the only thing to be heard was the monotonous hum of the vehicles's engine. Jane cleared her throat noticeably.
"So… How was school?" She inquired. This is what mother's did, right? They pried.
"Oh, it went just fine," Ben stated good-naturedly. "I set a new record."
"Really? Did you sign up for a new sport like John told you to?"
"No, I set a different kind of record. You see, in just one day, I've become the least likely person to get a date in the history of my school." Ben said bitterly. He adjusted a glare on the woman beside him. "And do you know why?"
Jane was sure she didn't care but, to humor him, she acted interested.
"Why?" Jane sighed, pressing down on the accelerator.
Ben unzipped the front pocket of his backpack that sat in front of his feet, pulling out a severely blackened piece of metal.
"This is why." Ben declared vehemently. Jane tried to focus on the small object the young man held between his fingers near her face. It looked oddly familiar… "Your stupid tacking device malfunctioned and threw me into spiraling pain, sending the attractive, potential girlfriend running away!"
Jane recognized the piece of technology now and, seeing one of her precious pieces so obviously damaged, looked sharply at the young man.
"What did you do to it?" She asked incredulously, taking a second glance at the fried scrap metal.
"What did I do to it? You mean what did it do to me? I think I've got a second degree burn on my leg!" Ben said, motioning at his still-sore leg.
"That wasn't cheap, Benjamin. It's harder than you think to put that kind of technology into simple house key. When John or I give you something, you need to learn to take care of it." Jane reprimanded.
"Didn't you hear what I just said? The key attacked me. I was trying to defend myself by throwing it into the fountain."
Jane mumbled something about making the next one waterproof before turning into a rundown parking lot. Jane's nice car looked out of place in the cold, derelict setting of downtown New Jersey's docks. Fog hung lightly over the wooden flooring near the sea and Ben looked around at the big building they were parked behind.
"What is this place?" Ben asked, looking through the windshield at the washed-out building. There was no sign to tell anything of its name.
"John's engineering company. He bought this one because he says it reminds him of his fake one…" Jane said as she pulled her keys out of the ignition and gathered her things together. She glanced in disgust at the ghetto surrounding area. "Unfortunately."
She checked herself in the mirror absently before grabbing her bag and exiting the car.
"Why are we going inside?" Ben asked, following suite. Jane bristled at the amount of questions. It was difficult to answer things when you were an agent. The information you held was usually valuable and not meant to be thrown around-Especially to irresponsible, expense-ignorant kids. (Yes, she was still a bit angry about the tracking device.)
"John's shift ends in about two hours. Mine ends in five. I don't have time to take you home so you're going to stay here until John does." She forced herself to explain while walking towards the front of the building. The gravelly road beneath her was sure to be doing a number on her heels. God, she hated this place.
"What? What am I supposed to do the entire time?" Ben whined. He really didn't feel like reading engineering magazines and sitting in uncomfortable chairs.
"Do your homework." Jane said simply. She continued walking but stopped when she noticed Ben had. The woman turned impatiently. "What now?"
"I forgot my backpack in the car." Ben said sheepishly.
Ben was happy that Jane was wearing sunglasses or else the glare she gave him on their way back to the car would have done some serious harm.
"Before you whine about resources and such," Jane began on their way back. "Ask John and he'll get it. Computers, software, whatever."
Ben slung his backpack over his shoulder and followed her into the building.
The outside of the large, bland structure was in high contrast to its inside. Many employees walked about with large floor plans under their arms and phones were ringing off the hook. Jane and Ben braved the clutter and chatter on the first floor to the elevator in the back. It opened promptly, releasing a half-dozen architects and clerics from its silver doors. The two entered the small space and Jane pressed the button labeled "4" casually. After several minutes of releasing and admitting passengers, Ben and Jane finally arrived at the top.
As they exited the elevator, Jane's Blackberry beeped. She pulled it out and studied the message.
"Kumquats, I'm going to be late." Jane cursed. She turned to Ben. "Look, John's office is the fifth one on the left. You can't miss it. Past the receptionists' desk. Tell John I'll see him later tonight. Be good." She called as an afterthought, boarding the elevator once again. The doors shut with a light pound and Ben began his trek past numerous cubicles before arriving at a wide hall of wooden doors with windows. He counted as he passed each one, reading the various names etched into the plastic red plaques, halting as he came to a receptionists' desk. He could visibly see John's office a few feet away but this woman made it obvious that she was to be dealt with first.
"Can I help you?" She said, eyes filled with criticism and distrust at Ben's youthful appearance. She was a pretty woman, probably in her mid-thirties with a brunette hair styled into a bob.
"Uh, yeah, I need to see John." Ben said, glancing at the office again.
"And what business do you have with Mr. Smith, Mr…?" She trailed off, suspicious eyes looking expectantly for a name.
"Ben. Ben Smith." The young man replied. The woman's eyes immediately sparked into recognition.
"Oh, I am terribly sorry, Mr. Smith-"
"Please, please, just call me Ben." he interrupted with a pleading expression.
"Of course." she said with a smile, getting up to shake Ben's hand. "Mr. Smith said you'd be arriving with Mrs. Smith."
"Yeah, she was late for something." Ben said, taking his hand away to readjust his backpack over his shoulder.
"Your father is just down here." She got up from behind her desk, revealing an orange and brown tweed skirt fitted snugly over her nice figure, before leading him toward the door and opening it.
Ben was pleasantly surprised to see that the office was actually quite nice and cozily decorated. The ceilings were a little low but the carpet was a plush brown. The walls were painted a deep red with classy office furniture to compliment it. Two long bookshelves lined the right wall while a sitting area with a posh dark leather loveseat leaned against the other. A large mahogany desk sat near the far back wall, an expensive computer perched atop it along with other office supplies. John sat behind the desk in a luxurious rolling chair, talking on the phone with a fellow CEO. He glanced up at the two entrants and hurriedly ended his conversation with a charming farewell. He replaced the phone and greeted Ben and his receptionist.
"Cindy, I see you've met Ben," John nodded at the young man who looked up from his observing at the sound of his name.
"Yes, sir. I have to apologize though. I didn't realize he was coming alone and I mistook him for a menace." she laughed.
"Well, I hope he didn't give you too much trouble," the handsome man replied genially.
Ben scowled a little at the veiled jibe but Cindy merely laughed, quickly excusing herself back to her work.
Ben stood in the middle of the room, still taking in the room, while John turned his attention to his computer. The young man walked over to the bookshelf, touching the various hardbacks and reading their spines.
Meh, mostly engineering junk. Ben thought distastefully, holding no particular interest in the field. The young man had managed to uncover a few novels thrown into the otherwise boring selection. He removed these, planning to read these in his long waits in the office, until he was struggling to balance nearly ten classics. Ben thought the stack was still considerably stable and in no danger of toppling over. Foolishly, he had forgotten to place himself into this stability factor and reaped the benefits of the mistake as his feet collided with a run in the long Persian rug. Books flew into the air as Ben fell to the floor. Said novels caught up to him in no time though, dropping heavily upon the poor boy's head.
Ben simply groaned in pain.
John snapped out of his work on the computer as soon as he heard the loud thuds. He looked over at the sad sight and sighed resignedly, reluctantly getting out of his chair to help the injured young man.
"What did you do this time?" John asked as he dug through the pile of novels to recover Ben's head.
Ben replied into the muffled rug. John rolled his eyes and helped Ben to sit upright against the bookshelf. The young man touched the back of his tenderly as John looked on with a twinge of concern.
"You need to learn to be more coordinated, Benjamin." John instructed, picking up the fallen books and placing them by Ben's side. "Did you sign up for a sport at school like I told you to?"
Ben sighed, lightly holding the back of his aching head.
"No," Ben said. "Sports don't even give you coordination, just injuries. Don't you think I get enough of those living with you two? Do you really want to torture me even more than you already do?"
John simply ignored Ben's quips as he made his way to the computer, opening up the schools main page.
"Let's see here. Lacrosse has openings," he muttered. Ben began to protest from his spot against the shelf, begging for something less contact-y.
"Chess is considered a major sport in many countries." Ben tried desperately.
"If you didn't want to do this one, you should've signed up for the one you did want at school. Your first practice starts tomorrow. Tell Jane and I'll pick you up." John said.
Ben returned the demand with a glare and huffed back against the shelf, hissing at the pain that caused as well as cursing the agent's resolution. There was a reason he was put at a desk job in the agency and it wasn't because he wanted to work there. Simply put, he lacked the bulk to roll with the big dudes and the skills to roll with the smaller ones. Ben was much too clumsy for any of that. So, what he lacked in ability, he more than made up for in sarcasm. It was his defense mechanism. It was the tool used to stay in the agency rather than being kicked back to his job at the Blockbuster. (1) But… It didn't look like any amount of wit would break these two agents though, and that scared Ben in more ways than he'd like to admit.
Giving one last rub to his sore head, Ben reached for one of the books to his side-
"Shouldn't you be doing homework?" Ben cringed at John's voice. How come John only noticed him when Ben didn't want him to? That perceptive eye could've been useful when he had tripped over the rug!
"This is homework," Ben said. "My biology teacher taught us about the growth of plants. I'm just doing some research."
The young man showed him the cover, reading in golden letters The Catcher in the Rye.
"Rye is a plant." Ben said with a lift of his eyebrows.
"Nice try." John said with a smirk. "Get started."
"I don't have that much," Ben persisted.
"Then do it now."
Ben scowled and grumbled as he zipped open his backpack, pulled out his folder and a pencil, and began his report on Napoleon.
After opening and closing his help book ten times, scribbling nearly 2,000 words, and asking John for help twice, Ben was happy with his newly completed essay. Coincidentally, the young man looked up to see John strapping his laptop bag over his shoulder right then.
"Were you waiting for me to finish or something?" Ben asked, beginning to pack up his things.
"See, I told you you'd finish in time." John said, ignoring the question.
"Ah, it was just a ploy to rub it in my face then!" Ben said.
"Hey, you finished didn't you?" John said pointedly, helping Ben up from his spot on the floor (Why he didn't sit in the sitting area was beyond him). "So, since you did finish (quietly for that matter) I think this calls for celebration. Ice cream?"
"Ice cream? Don't you think Jane might get mad?" Ben asked with a quirk of his head.
"If we bring home something from Applebee's, she won't know. Crisis averted."
"Ice cream sounds great then."
With that, John and Ben exited the office with a click to the light switch.
"How's your head?"
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A/N: GAH! So short. I'd like to write more but I'm out of time (the 4400 premieres tonight, yay!). I'll try to update sooner next time; sorry for the wait for those of you who are reading. Thanks to my two reviewers. You're the best.
Oh, by the way, there's going to be some semblance of plot in the chapters to come. Yay!
Have nice days,
Sarah.
(1)- Adam Brody used to work at Blockbuster. Just thought I'd use it in the story, ha, ha.