Eric Barber was the kind of guy that was always in the way. He was still relatively fresh meat, joining the tech-ops division only a year or so after Auggie got there, and despite his best efforts, it still showed. It didn't help that, size-wise, Barber qualified as a low-level giant. He stood, at Auggie's best estimate, around 6'4, built like Paul Bunyan with the grace of a daddy long-legs trying to get out a window. Like Hansel and Gretel, Barber was prone to leaving a trail of breadcrumbs around the office; Auggie could always tell where Barber had been and where he had gone, by the empty chip bags on the desk, the food particles lodged in the keyboard, the office chair jacked up to accommodate mile-long legs. Some days, Auggie found it endearing, but the more he made contact with open desk drawers and empty Coke cans, the less gracious he became.

Stu, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Auggie could be the first to arrive and the last to leave, and never catch a whiff of Stu all day. He was, for all intents and purposes, Mr. Clean. Stu, Barber and Auggie weren't too distant in age, but Stu always seemed like the baby of the team. Having joined the Agency right out of college, Stu treated every workday like it was his first and it could be his last. He kept his head down, his eyes peeled and his ears open, staying out of everyone's way at all costs. He only popped into Auggie's office when it was important, really important, which was far less often than he probably should. But he was the best codebreaker, and one of the most underrated technicians in the Agency.

Even still, these guys were Auggie's friends. They knew things no one else in the office understood, if only because of the complicated technical jargon. If it's true that high school never ends, Auggie anticipated the three of them would be shoved in lockers any moment. That's why God made men like Conrad Sheehan and Jai Wilcox in the first place. Never mind that Auggie was once jock material; nerds had to stick together.

Tonight, the three of them sat at Allen's, trying to get Barber laid.

"What are you looking for in a woman?" Stu asked.

"Could you maybe not fiddle with your wedding ring when you say that?" Barber griped. "That doesn't really feel like a question you ask a guy who's made it clear he would bump uglies with literally anyone in this bar."

Auggie grinned. "Literally anyone?"

"Any woman."

"Shucks," Auggie pouted. "For a second I thought I had a shot with the great lumberjack himself."

"Pretend to be a lumberjack," Stu suggested diplomatically.

"Why would a lumberjack have a tattoo of C-3P0 on his tricep?"

"Um. Wow," Stu stammered.

"Oh my god is he showing it? Are you showing it?" Auggie demanded in a rare moment of unadulterated frustration.

"Yeah but don't worry, I'm flexing," Barber whispered.

"Look at that," Auggie quipped. "It's least-of-your-worries-o-clock."

"There's a brunette in the corner who keeps looking over," Stu hissed.

"Looking? Or rubbernecking?" Auggie chuckled.

"It's a nice tattoo, okay, Auggie? My cousin did it for me, and he used to be in the Air Force."

Auggie frowned. "Okay..."

"She's coming over here," the more hysterical Stu became, the lower his voice got. "She's coming over here right now."

Auggie raised an eyebrow. "Should I grab a condom out of my wallet?"

"It's not go-time yet," Barber hissed. "And I have my own condom. Thank you."

"Why do you keep a condom in your wallet?" Stu asked, perplexed.

"Sorry, Stu, I keep forgetting you're married."

Auggie was about to give Stu a very vanilla sex talk when he was silenced by a puff of Tresor.

"I like your tattoo," her voice was smoky, but not masculine, with a certain inflection that implied she was not only fit, but the owner of a few tattoos herself.

"There's more where that came from," Eric managed. "I'm Eric."

"Charlene." They shook hands across the table, directly in front of Auggie. Auggie kicked to his right, hoping to land one in Barber's shin.

Barber snapped to attention. "Can I buy you a drink, Charlene?"

"Sure."

And with that, Barber clapped Auggie on the back and took off with Charlene like Wile E. Coyote after the Road Runner. Auggie sat, gripping his beer in amazed silence.

"Oh," Stu said abruptly. "Now I get why you keep them in your wallet."