Friday morning:

Adam groaned as his alarm clock started blaring. The noise was usually just unpleasant, but today, it sounded downright cruel, as if the device was mocking him. His hand slammed into it, bashing it silent. He had one hell of a headache, probably from the lack of sleep. At this point, it was something he was used to, the soreness between his legs however...

He opened his eyes and sat up, feeling some dried up goo sticking at the skin on his stomach. He looked down at himself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

So it wasn't a dream...

He buried his face in his palm.

Goddammit...

With a sigh, he heaved himself upwards and headed for the bathroom. He needed a shower, needed to clear his head.

The water was cold on purpose. It was supposed to wake him up, make him forget, much like it usually made him forget the nightmares. He applied an extra amount of body wash to the spot on his stomach, but even as the dried up mess came off, the skin underneath it was red and itchy. Scowling, he stepped out of the shower. Why him? Out of all the people Pritchard could possibly pick, why did it have to be him? The hacker had nothing but disdain for him, their verbal snarkfests becoming a thing of legend among most of the employees at Sarif. Yet somehow, at the same time...

Adam rubbed the back of his neck. Was last night a payback for what he did? It would be just like Pritchard to hold a grudge until the time is right and then go out of his way to give him hell. He shook his head. Even if that turned out to be true, there was still that thing from two days ago...

By the way, that conversation isn't over.

That tone was off, way off. At first, he didn't know what it meant but now he had an idea. A dreadful one, but still an idea. Grabbing his clothes along the way, he headed for the living room. He knew that his augs would hate him for it later on, but he decided to skip breakfast anyway. He needed to get to work as soon as possible, make the hacker understand that he wasn't interested in...whatever this was. Strapping into his tac vest, he grabbed his coat and left the apartment behind him.


Meanwhile, Pritchard seemed to be riding his usual 'Hacker extraordinaire' hype train. His fingers pounded at the keyboard mercilessly, the only break coming from an occasional sip from his coffee. A stray strand of hair brushed against his cheek, but he paid no attention to it. The only thing that mattered was the problem at hand.

Some fool thought that he would have a go at trying to breach his defenses and roam around the Sarif Industries' database. A predatory grin spread across the hacker's face as he thwarted every pathetic advance the would-be intruder tried to use against him. The whole effort was laughable at the very best. Amateurs. Was there no one who could pose at least a glimmer of a challenge?

With the last few flicks of his fingers he managed to eliminate the unwelcome presence completely. Satisfied, he leaned back in his chair. It was instances like this that made him realize just how much he loved his job. He reached for his cup of coffee. Empty. Alas, all beautiful things must come to an end.

He got up only to stop mid-movement at the sound of heavy steps heading towards his office. Sighing, he set the mug back on the table and sat down. It was ridiculous how he could recognize the man just by the sound of his steps. Then again, he was the only person in the building with augmented legs. The door swung open.

"Well look who it is, the almighty Sleepyhead himself!" deadpanned Pritchard as he looked up from his computer.

The position of Jensen's eyebrows indicated that he was glaring at him: "Cut the crap, Pritchard. We need to talk."

The menacing look didn't faze him, it never did: "Oh goodie! I was just running out of work to do. What do you want, Jensen?"

"I think the real question is what you want, Francis." retorted Jensen.

Pritchard's eyebrow flew up high: "Really? How so?"

"For starters, you might want to explain to me what the hell last night was about." continued the aug as he moved closer.

"You're only half a machine. You should know."

"Don't play with me. I'm getting real sick of it." growled Jensen as he leaned over the desk. "What do you want from me, Francis? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a thing for me."

Pritchard's stomach sank. He could already feel his cheeks starting to burn with embarrassment, but managed a scoff nonetheless: "A thing for...don't be ridiculous!" His voice lowered to a hiss. "What gave you that bright idea? The fact that I slept with you? Seriously Jensen, quit flattering yourself."

Jensen crossed his arms, his eyebrows now a steep arch: "Goddammit Pritchard, you kissed me last night! Even now you're sitting here blushing like a schoolgirl."

Pritchard glared at his computer, the traitorous red flaring up his cheeks completely: "You know Jensen, why don't you just cut the crap for a change. If I recall our first encounter correctly, it was you who dragged me to that bedroom, not the other way around."

"Don't try to turn the tables here. You-"

"Tell me something, Jensen." interrupted Pritchard. "Does your dick have a life of its own? Because it sure seemed to be happy to see me recently."

Jensen shook his head: "You're unbelievable."

"No, I'm just right and you hate me for it. That's nothing new." Pritchard bit back glaring at him.

Jensen stepped away from the desk, apparently trying to put some distance between them.

"Leave me alone, Francis." he said simply, his voice somewhat rougher around the edges.

"Why? So you can get back to that moody loner thing of yours?" retorted Pritchard. He let out a harsh sigh. "Look Jensen, I-"

The aug shook his head again: "I have to go."

"So you're going to just-" Pritchard tried again.

"See you, Francis." replied Jensen quietly as he backed away from the room.

Pritchard stared at the empty doorway, his insides twisted into a knot. He remained motionless for what seemed like eternity before he bowed his head and sighed. Let the misery begin.