Slightly breaking the pattern here, but this chapter title refers not only to the replacement secretary but to a newcomer on the team. You'll see.

This is my longest chapter in a long time but it's packed full of plot. If you can't see that, just wait. You will.

Yes that's my bad habit of spoiling. It's a bad habit. I should probably not do it on my own stories...

P.S Dopee is pronounced Doe-pee. It was going to be a take on Adobe (just like Minisoft a couple of chapters back was an obvious rip off of Microsoft) but I thought making it sound like dopey sounded funnier, considering that this is a multimillion dollar software corporation and it echoed the silliest of the seven dwarfs. Or something like that. And now I'm rambling, so on with the story... :P

Trunks was reaching the point of pulling his hair out when Michelle returned. Keeping up with her was a tall young man, possibly only a few years older than Trunks. He took one look at the panicking president and was instantly at his side, leaning over the Flattop with intense concentration.

"Okay," he said calmly, "let's see what the problem is."

He opened a few pages of the strange text language things that Trunks had never gotten his head around and typed a few codes in. He let out a whistle through his teeth and the typing intensified.

Trunks' eyebrows knitted together. "What's wrong?"

"Undetectable virus," the programmer said, "but this one... well, it's trickier than the ones I normally work with but shouldn't be too difficult to decode, don't you worry."

"I'm sorry," said one of the researchers, approaching the desk with caution, "but who are you?"

"He said he was a programmer," Michelle said innocently when Trunks looked at her in confusion, "and he was in the room they usually are in... everyone else testified that he was..."

Trunks turned to the researcher for an explanation.

"I know most of the programmers and I don't recognise this one. And I know the head of the programming division would not send a newbie to answer the distress call of the company's president."

"Actually," the man in the chair interrupted, "because I was here today, he probably would have sent me anyway." One hand left the keyboard and rummaged in his jacket, getting more and more frantic as he struggled to remove something from his inner pocket.

"Can I help?" Michelle asked brightly. She leaned round and helped the man draw out a laminated card from his inner pocket. Trunks was very impressed that the man's eyes didn't leave the Flattop screen even though a perfect view down Michelle shirt was offered him. The researcher who'd experienced such a sight earlier, still with tissues up his nose, stared at the programmer incredulously then muttered to his friend, "must be gay."

"Please pass that to your boss," the man instructed Michelle. In the moment Michelle moved to proffer the card to Trunks, the programmer sent a ferocious glare in the direction of the gossiping Capsule Corp workers.

Trunks took the card off Michelle and examined it. It was the typical pass allowed for employees to external companies who had regular dealing with Capsule Corp. As a corporation with dealing in many different areas of business, there were many companies who had shares in Capsule Corp work and sent employees over regularly to attest that it was up to standard or to work alongside or work under the instruction of Capsule Corp.

"Matthew Hope," he read, "you work for Dopee. Specifically, Merlyn Security Programming."

"That's right, sir," Matthew Hope said, "I was here today updating your security software to the latest we've developed, as it was agreed in the contract we would do this automatically whenever the latest product was available. Personally I'm not sure how that deal was agreed upon, or how you don't have to pay for it" (this was all said in an undertone) "so it was arranged between us and the programming staff that I was come in today and conduct the update."

Karen had come to join Trunks and was now frowning at Matthew. "Isn't the latest security software on the Flattop?" she asked, "So how did this virus infect us? And for that matter, how is it you know how to use the Flattop? It's still under development."

"Like you said," Matthew said, not taking his eyes off the screen, "the latest security is on this."

"Yes..." uncertain where this was going Karen said.

Matthew looked up to grin at them. "Who do you think put it on?" he asked, and then returned to his work with the image of their surprised faces imprinted in his mind.

"You initially programmed this?" Trunks repeated.

"Yup," Matthew said, "so you don't need to swear me to secrecy because I'm already under obligations not to say anything. I'll leave you my contact details as well so that if something like this occurs again, I'm only a phone call away." There was a minute of silence before he added, "oh, and don't worry about the programming department asking questions. I'll deal with their curiosity when I go back down later."

"Why would they be asking questions?" Trunks asked, fearing the answer.

"Because Miss Blonde here made quite an entrance and, I'm sorry to say, my shock of hearing a top secret project being mentioned the last place I expected it to be cause my reaction to spark some curiosity amongst the more... attentive programmers. Mo...shish...ah..."

"Sorry I didn't catch that last bit."

Matthew looked up, clearly unaware that he'd muttered aloud. "Sorry, making a mental note." He hurriedly returned to typing.

There was a tugging on Trunks' sleeve and he turned to find a teary Michelle staring up at him. "I'm really, really sorry," she murmured, "really, sorry..."

Trunks frowned and glanced away. "It's okay," he said wearily, "we all make mistakes."

"So how did you managed to disable the security software, Miss Blonde?"

They all stared at Matthew. Despite the nonchalant tone, his eyes showed that he was asking the question seriously. Then all eyes were on Michelle.

"I... I didn't..."

"Well, it's off now. Or something's off. Either way, the system had to be down in order for the Flattop to be inflected. And you said yourself that you were the one to break it."

Michelle's eyes were round. "No, I didn't think..." her bottom lip quivered and she said in a very small voice, "I don't know anything about computers. I don't know how to."

"The security system registered as active when I was looking at it onscreen," Trunks informed Matthew.

The programmer looked between Trunks and Michelle and then sighed. "Then I don't know how it got on here," he said with a sigh. "May I open an investigation into this? We'll do it under Dopee protocols; after all, the Flattop's software and programming is our responsibility. You wouldn't want to start productions with dodgy software."

"Mass production is not being considered right now until all the questions concerning the Flattop production have been answered," Trunks said. The programmer glanced at the president but decided not to ask anything else. "You have permission to open an enquiry though. You are right that we would not want anything to be anything but perfect. This will revolutionise the technology industry."

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Matthew said with a smile. "I'm going to run a final check and then shut this down. Unfortunately I can't do everything right now; this may need more thorough checks. I'll come back Monday and continue then." He took off the blue and white cap, on which Trunks only now noticed the Dopee software company logo, and ruffled the shaggy brown hair beneath it. The lip of the cap then went in his mouth and Matthew bit down on it whilst he jabbed at the keyboard with his right hand, his left still gripping the cap's top. Clearly a random habit, Trunks decided to turn his attention else ware when his eye was caught by his replacement secretary.

Michelle was staring at the programmer, her eyes slightly glazed. Trunks, and now most of the researchers who had noticed, glanced between the programmer who had nothing apparently going for him but a square chin that looked like it had been chiselled from stone and the busty blonde who could probably got any man she wanted if only her mind could conceive such a notion. Maybe a brainy programmer and a brainless secretary wouldn't make such a bad couple; however Matthew did not appear to have noticed Michelle's attraction and Michelle was obviously unaware that she was giving off such signals. She just stared at him.

For some reason, this irritated Trunks. He needed to get on with business. A certain business involving a certain blonde was currently weighing on his mind.

He coughed. Michelle ignored him. He waved his hand in front of her face. Michelle blinked and continued to stare once his hand had withdrawn. Trunks lent back and whispered to Karen, "What's Michelle's surname?"

"Mercury."

Trunks glanced at her. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Just like the famous rock star Eddie Mercury?"

"Apparently so. All the official documents required for this post had the name too so I don't think she's faking."

"The thought probably never crossed her mind," Trunks muttered before straightening up and addressing his replacement secretary. "Miss Mercury."

That snapped Michelle out of her stupor. She gazed around at Trunks with wide eyes and said, "You used my surname." Then she began sniffling again. "That means I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Well..." Trunks scratched the back of his head. This was necessary, no matter how awkward it was going to get. "Considering the events of today... although you've worked really hard... and I approve of your enthusiasm... and your work ethic... this mistake is rather hard to overlook..."

"You're angry at me, aren't you? I'm really, really sorry!" Michelle had tears trickling down her face and was so close that Trunks could smell her perfume wafting off her hair. 'San Valentino,' he couldn't help thinking, 'Bulla likes this brand.' He was also strongly regretting bringing up this topic. It was a stupid mistake made by a stupid secretary. She could have done it on any computer.

That thought snapped his brain back into gear. That was precisely the kind of secretary he didn't need. Over the last week, he and Karen had been watching Michelle shrewdly and agreed that, whilst she could sometimes make good decisions, mostly she relied on following instructions, which she could do almost perfectly. But Trunks needed a secretary who could act independently, be pro-active and preferably not make stupid mistakes. Perhaps what happened last Friday was lucky chance because Michelle had not shown the same initiative since.

So, despite the suspicious glares of the researchers around the room, Trunks looked squarely back at Michelle and said calmly, "No, I'm not angry. I'm just disappointed."

"That's worse..." Michelle began sobbing. All the researchers began closing in, squinting at their boss.

"Your work has been very good, but I think your time with us is up." Trunks spat the statement out in a hurry; such was his desperation to get the situation over with. There was only so much crying he could take before guilt overtook his better consciousness. "I'm sorry..."

"I am too," gasped Michelle between tears, "really, really sorry!"

"Maybe you should go home now," Karen said gently, swooping round Trunks to take Michelle gently by the arm, "you've had a trying day."

"Y-y-yes..." Michelle spluttered. She made it halfway to the door before pulling her arm out of Karen's grip and turning back to Trunks. "Mr Briefs," she said, taking a deep breath before dipping into a low bow. Trunks averted his eyes. It was like last Friday all over again. "Thank you." She turned to the researchers who had gone back to huddling on one side of the room. "And thank you for letting me play on the computer thing." She bowed again and all eyes were on the ceiling. Well, all eyes but those belonging to the male who already had tissue up his nose. The reddening of the tissue around the nostril area began to grow.

"Pervert," Matthew muttered under his breath, loud enough that the offending researcher to hear and scowl in embarrassment. Revenge for the earlier comment, Trunks assumed, at least this one had stronger grounds of reasoning behind it. Michelle rose, turned her head to Matthew, nodded her thanks to him and then left with Karen.

There was an awkward pause once the women had left. "You didn't want to do that," Matthew commented as he stood to allow the young president to sit behind his desk again.

"Well, like I said, she had a good work ethic, was enthusiastic and once you got used to the bubbly personality she wasn't too much of an annoyance. She just made silly mistakes."

"Hmm..." Matthew said thoughtfully, "Speaking of which, this is hers, isn't it?" He held up the Lil' Lights CD.

"Yes," Trunks agreed, "how did you guess?"

"It was still in the CD drive when I was tackling the virus. I ejected it quickly though; wouldn't want to accidentally contaminate the content otherwise she wouldn't be able to play her music." He scanned the CD cover, "terrible music choice though. I'm a huge fan of Eddie Mercury. His death was a tragic loss to the music industry." Matthew tapped the CD against his free hand in thought and then waved goodbye to Trunks. "I'll see if I can catch Miss Blonde on my way out. I've got to clear things up with the programming department anyway. On Monday I'll begin the enquiry into the Flattop's security. It may require completely wiping the hard drive and reinstall everything. If that's the case, we will organise with the other software companies and personally see to it that everything is returned to how it originally was."

"Thank you. So may I assume that you have this under control? May I make you fully responsible for the programming of the Flattop: security, operating system, office programs, and the lot?"

Matthew's eyes widened. "Wouldn't that mean properly bringing me on board with this project?" he enquired.

"Yes."

"Sir," one of the researchers started forward. Trunks recognised him as the researcher who'd realised that Matthew did not work for Capsule Corp, "we have our own team of programming experts who are more than capable..."

"The less people on this project the better," Trunks said sharply, "this may have been an accident but sabotage from other companies or the potential stealing of this project's secrets is a threat. I know that the Flattop will revolutionise the computer technology industry and I don't want anything to ruin it. No Practicorp opposition. No sudden distresses in software one week before or after global release. The reputation, not only of Capsule Corp, but of every single company who have put time and money into the Flattop is counting on this being a worldwide success and so I need people I can trust to do their best to see that happen." His eyes met the hazel eyes of the programmer. "Can I count on you to help that happen?"

There was a long pause. "That's a big responsibility," Matthew said slowly. He took off his cap and began biting the rim again; all the while his eyes were locked with Trunks'.

"Matthew Hope," Trunks said as the programmer opened his mouth to speak again, "please give me hope for success."

Another pause. Then Matthew stopped biting and put the cap back on his head. "That was really bad pun on my name you know," he grinned.

Trunks averted his eyes and slowly nod. "Yes," he admitted, "yes it was."

"Even so," Matthew said, tucking Michelle's CD into his pocket, "I'll accept. Thank you for giving me this opportunity." He gave a short bow and turned to the door. "Definitely see you Monday then," he said with a wave.

Trunks grinned and relaxed. That was that problem sorted. The thought still niggled at the back of his head: Michelle was entranced by him. What does he have that I don't?

"Michelle!" The blonde stopped her slow trudging through the corridors and turned to see a certain young programmer approaching her, waving a CD in the air. "Did you forget something?"

"Oh my... thank you! Thank you so much! I'm sorry that I left it behind! Oh!"

"I can't say I approve of the music on it," Matthew said light-heartedly, pressing the disk case into Michelle's hand, "but we can't agree on everything." He glanced down at the blonde who had suddenly stiffened. "Is something wrong?"

"Michelle..."

"Hmm?"

Michelle's big blue eyes, which were steadily growing rounder and rounder as she became more and more nervous, met Matthew's calm hazel ones. "I don't believe that my first name was ever mentioned in your presence. How do you know it?"

"The same way I know your father is called Michael and the perfume you're wearing was given to you as a present." Matthew lent in and took a deep breath of the scent rolling off Michelle's hair. The blonde scrambled backwards. "I must admit, Ariel's scent suits you."

"Who are you?" Michelle demanded.

Matthew smiled. "You know who I am."

Michelle regarded him wearily. "I do?"

Matthew stared at her for a long time before groaning under his breath. "Don't tell me you've forgotten too."

"Huh?"

"Never mind," he answered, suddenly irritable. He strode past her then paused and glanced over his shoulder. "We should meet up some time and discuss music. I think you radically need to rethink your taste in tunes." He smiled at her, a soft smile she hadn't been expecting, gave her what seemed to be his trademark over-the-shoulder wave and sauntered away.

Michelle watched him go before opening the CD case. Inside was a note. Just a few words and a series of digits. Michelle glanced up in the direction Matthew Hope had disappeared.

"That bastard."

Take a guess at what was on the note ;)

P.S. I'm not really a fan of Freddie Mercury. It's just, once I decided on using that as Michelle's surname, I thought it would be rude not to make some reference to a man widely regarded as a charismatic musical legend. So that's the reason for mentioning "Eddie Mercury". The reference came because I used Mercury as a surname, not that I chose the surname to reference.