Talk about long time no see!!! lol :)
Well, if their are still any faithful readers (or reviewers for that matter...lol) here goes chapter 3! :) I assure you I DO plan to finish this story ! :)
Anway, this one goes to you, lyrical pen! Hope you enjoy it! Made it nice and long to sorta make up for the long absence...lol
Fifteen minutes later, Sam's diligent search was rewarded. Well, if you could call finding another freaking case to work on a 'reward' for hard work.
It seemed that there was a Telvista call center nearby and several strange incidents seemed to be repeating themselves. There was a steady report of missing persons from the building that had started out three months ago. Not only that, but these random disappearances had been happening in intervals of exactly two weeks apart. So far, however, the police's attempt to locate either the missing or to even locate a primary suspect had been anything but successful. Sam checked any kind of information available, but it seemed that no other kind of information was available. He sighed. It was a possible case. They wouldn't loose anything by checking it out.
"So what…it could be anything, Sam. From massive suicide to getting lost in the big, scary woods. Doesn't necessarily mean it's our kind of job," Dean pointed out sarcastically. As long as there weren't more substantial facts, Dean felt it was only a wild goose chase.
"But look at what people are saying, Dean. I mean…some of the witnesses swear that all of the people missing so far started acting kinda strange in the last few days before their disappearance. And check this out…so far 15 people have gone missing in barely three months. Fifteen people, Dean. This could be anything from a vengeful spirit to some freaking demon possessing people," Sam insisted as he felt himself getting interested in the incident despite himself.
Dean pursed his lips and thought over that one. Then he sat upright in bed and swung his legs over to the side, so as to be able to sit on the edge of the bed and think clearly. "If it's a demon, there'd have to be some sort of pattern in the kind of people he was taking over. I mean, these people had to be nervous or slightly unsettled, thus making them vulnerable to being possessed. You know it's not so easy for a demon to screw with an emotionally stable dude."
Sam nodded and scrolled down another article. "Good point…so, all we gotta do is do some quick background on these people…ah ha…there we go…and…" his voice trailed off, as he started warming up to the case.
Seeing Sam didn't finish his sentence, Dean got up impatiently, and peered over Sam's shoulder, trying to read whatever Sam had found that seemed so interesting.
Feeling Dean's hot breath on his neck, Sam grimaced. "Uh, dude…a little space?"
Dean looked at Sam and realized that he was indeed a tad too close and chuckled. "Aw, Sammy…I never knew you cared…"
Sam snorted and slapped him away. "Lay off, Dean…I'm trying to check this out…"
Once more serious, Dean lay aside all kidding and sat in a chair beside Sam, to see what Sam had found so far in his search engine. "So what are we looking at here?" he finally asked a minute later at a page that had some information about a man named 'Jonathan Perry'.
"He's the first man on the list of disappearances. I'm checking to see if there's any psychological history that could led us to see if he had some kind of trauma in the past few months."
"'Cause if he did, that would have made him a target for demon possession, right?" asked Dean as he tried to catch up to Sam. Seemed Sam was always using big words.
"Well, what do you know…it thinks…" Sam teased Dean.
"Whatever, smartass," Dean retorted irritably as he slapped Sammy on the back of his head.
"Hey!" protested Sam.
"Watch your mouth, kid, and show respect to your elders," was Dean's lofty reply.
"Oh, whatever," Sam rolled his eyes.
"So what does it say?" Dean asked, letting Sam's last comment go.
Sam frowned as he concentrated on the words in the screen. "Something about…wait…"
Dean leaned over and tried to figure out where Sam was. "About…" Dean suggested once more.
"Uh…turns out that this dude does have a psychological history," Sam commented, finishing up the last paragraph on the medical report.
"What was his problem?" asked Dean curiously. Crazy people were always a study.
"Symptomatic frustration," Sam replied distractedly.
"Sympto…what?"
Sam exhaled and replied slowly, as if talking to a child. "Symptomatic frustration. It's when you develop a kind of insecurity due to past frustrations and pressure. It can make you be irritable and edgy and affects your eating and sleeping habits as well."
"Oh." Dean's eyes were open wide in awe. "Where'd you learn that?" he finally asked despite himself.
Sam rolled his eyes. "It's called reading, Dean."
"You're kidding me!" chuckled Jenny from her Indian like stance on the bed. She was resting lazily against the wall and was sitting cross legged while she listened to Dean's wild idea. "Life with you never has a dull moment," she laughed as she covered her mouth with one of her hands.
"I don't see what's so crazy about it," Dean said stiffly. "I happen to think it's a pretty good idea." He sat down on the bed to her and signaled for Sammy to find a spot as well. "Further more, it's even legal."
Now it was Sam's turn to chuckle from his stance on the other edge of the bed. "Yeah, that's a new one for you…"
Jenny laughed even louder.
"Cute," Dean scowled at Sam.
"Just sayin'," Sam shrugged innocently.
Jenny sobered down and moved a little closer to where Dean was sitting and she bumped his shoulder companionably with her own, making Dean grin. "Ok, so you get a job there…then what?"
"We talk to people. Folks love spreading gossip…next thing ya know, we'll know enough to figure out the case. Plus if we actually work there, it's gonna be a lot easier to do what we gotta do," Dean explained.
"Dean's right, Jenny. I mean, sticking your nose in a call center looking for any signs of sulfur or whatever we may find is no piece of cake. The easiest way to both talk to whatever witnesses there were and do our job is to actually get ourselves a spot there," Sam put in. "We can't exactly break in and start throwing holy water on people."
"Yeah, I can just see that happening," Jenny smiled bemusedly. Then she slapped her lap and got down the bed, looking for her shoes. "Before you guys form part of the Telvista team though, I wanna go eat some lunch."
Dean agreed readily to that one. "I'm hungry too."
Sam snorted. "Dude…when are you not hungry?"
"Hey…eating regularly is a sign of life," Dean defended himself lightly.
"It's also a sign of gluttony," came Sam's quick retort.
"Hey…I'm a growing boy," Dean smirked as he reached for his leather jacket and opened the door for Jenny.
"And a handsome one at that," Jenny pointed out as she exited their room and latched on to his arm playfully.
"A gentleman never contradicts a lady," Dean flirted with her as he suddenly bowed to her.
Jenny looked at him in surprise. Even Sam opened his eyes wider. Dean didn't usually pull off this kind of stuff.
"Why Dean, I didn't know you could be so debonair," Jenny cooed as she stepped on her tip toes to kiss him lightly.
Dean frowned into the kiss. "Debowhat?" he asked after Jenny kissed him.
"Debonair, Dean," Sam smirked. "It means charming. Refined. Courteous. Well-groomed."
Dean looked quizzically from Sam to Jenny and rolled his eyes. "Where the hell did you learn that word?" he asked Jenny despite himself.
"It's called reading, Dean," Jenny replied smugly as her eyes danced with mischief, making Sam chuckle.
Dean grimaced and shook his head. "You two spend way too much time together."
"So what do you do?" asked the nervous human resource agent who was interviewing Dean. Dean and Sam had gotten interviews at Telvista, and Dean had just started his interview, while Sammy waited outside for his turn. His interview was next.
Dean pursed his lips. I don't think you'd really like to know… "Uh, what kind of jobs do you have open here?"
The little man rolled his eyes and adjusted his spectacles. "Well…What do you do?" he repeated slowly as if talking to an idiot.
Dean sat up straighter in his chair, the guy's tone not getting past him. I do stuff you'd pee in your little spider man boxers if I even told ya… "How can I tell you what I can do, if I don't know what kind of jobs you guys have available here?"
"Ok, let's start this over again. You start this time, alright?" the man compromised as he held out his hands in frustration.
Dean smirked. "Ok, sure," he responded as his eyes danced with mischief. "What do you do?" he asked imitating the little man's high pitched tone to a tee.
"What kind of jobs—oh knock it off!" the now furious HR agent snapped as he realized that Dean had led him on. "I asked you a simple question, young man," he added crisply. "What do you do? So far we only have openings in the tech section. We need customer support for Verizon."
"Now, we're getting somewhere," huffed Dean. "Ok, I handle computers just fine. I'm sure I can do customer support, no problem."
The little man snorted and rested against his chair as a bemused smile rested on his thin lips. "You need to know more than just turning on a computer to do customer service, Mr. Smith," he drawled out sweetly using the alias Dean had given him.
"I know that," snapped Dean getting irritated. "You need to help the customers fix their wifi problems and all that crap."
The HR agent lifted an eyebrow in response and sighed. "You also need to watch your language. We need people who can handle any kind of customer and be patient throughout the call." He leaned onto the table with both hands and fixed his beady eyes on Dean. "Tell me, Mr. Smith…do you have any experience in customer service? Do you actually consider yourself prepared to handle the daily stress of smooth talking impossible clients? Because I warn you, our callers can be irritating at times."
Dean crossed his arms cockily. "Hey, they can't be worse than you, right?"
"How'd it go, dude?" asked Sam a few minutes later when Dean met him at the parking lot. Sam's interview wasn't until another few minutes, and he was still by the car.
Dean headed to the driver's seat and opened it with a smile. "Dude's a pain in the ass," was the explanatory reply to Sam's question as he too leaned against his car. He squinted, the hard glare of the sun bothering his eyes.
Sam rolled his eyes. "I take it that means you didn't get the job." He stuffed his hands in his jackets pockets and pursed his lips in thought.
"It means the dude's a pain in the ass," Dean repeated stiffly. "Just you wait and see what he's like."
Sam tilted his head, as if giving Dean the benefit of the doubt. "Well, I guess that means I'm gonna have to make sure I get the job in the tech section then." He paused and licked his lips. "Did he mention any other openings for you?"
Dean frowned and rolled his eyes. Sam took that as a no.
"Isn't there any other job inside you can do? Dude, we need to both be together on this. I can't do this alone unless we both have access to the inside." Sam sighed slightly exasperated that things didn't seem to be going as smoothly as he had envisioned. Then again, he wondered slightly if maybe Dean was right, and getting hired at the call center was going to be a tough one, even for him.
Dean coughed apologetically and focused his eyes carefully ahead, as if avoiding direct eye contact with Sam. "Uh…they do need more janitors," he answered in a low voice, embarrassment evident at the fact that was the only job offer the HR agent had thought him capable of fulfilling.
Sam's head snapped to face Dean, his face lighting up instantly. "Dude, that's perfect!" he cried out enthusiastically.
"Whatever," snorted Dean.
"No, Dean, I mean it! Don't you get it?" Sam went on as he stretched out his arms, a mannerism of his when he was into a conversation and trying to drive a point home.
Dean looked briefly at Sam's exuberance over his future position as potty cleaner and somehow failed to see what there was to get all worked up about. "You tell me," he drawled out sulkily.
"Common Dean, wake up…janitor? Keys to storage rooms? Access to the basement and other conspicuous places that a normal employee would have no logical excuse for sticking his nose into?" Sam replied with eagerness as his mind raced through the possibilities. With Dean having a good and logical reason to run all over the building like a comb, Sam could focus his attention to extracting information from the witnesses that had known the actual victims, and Dean could do his part by checking out every room for sulfur or any other clues.
Finally getting the full picture, Dean smiled widely, suddenly not feeling like a failure. Sam had even made it sound like his job would not only be the most important one, but the idea of sticking his nose into every nook and corner of the call center made him feel more like his old self. The part of badass detective went along just fine with him. "I knew that," Dean finally said loftily. "Now get your ass in that building and make you sure you get the tech job."
Sam nodded eagerly, as he checked his wrist watch and realized that it was indeed time for his interview. "You bet," he called out and his long legs strode their way to the inside of the building.
"So how'd it go?" asked Dean half an hour later when Sam emerged from the main offices.
Sam shrugged confidently and smiled smugly. "Piece of cake, dude."
"Did you get Mr. pain in the ass?" challenged Dean, not accepting the possibility that Sam had a smoothness and politeness that opened doors for him wherever he went.
"Uh," Sam smiled, as he tried to figure out if they had indeed been interviewed by the same guy. "Short and sickly thin, kinda guy? Beady eyes and creepy glasses? 'Cause I thought he was nice—"
"That's him," cut in Dean as he entered the Impala and turned on the engine.
Sam chocked back a laugh and continued innocently. "He was very understanding actually. Said I'd be perfect for the job—"
Dean glared at him as he put his hands on the steering wheel. "Did he also say you got cute wavy hair?" Dean threw out.
Sam stiffened up and his eyes flashed slightly. "What's that supposed to mean?" he sniffed.
Dean smirked and starting backing out of the parking space. "Ah, you know what they say, Sammy…" he trailed off irritably.
"No, I don't know what they say. Pray enlighten me," Sam replied sarcastically, his previous smugness well gone by now.
"Feminine charm will get you everywhere."
As it turned out, in the next week both Dean and Sam were hired at the call center. Dean got to work right away with the rest of the janitors and cleaning ladies, and Sam started out his job in the three week training bay for all new recruits in the Verizon tech session. Most of the time was spent in the 'classrooms' provided for the new techs, with a couple of hours a day spent as shadows with experienced techs already working in the customer service operation branch. 'Shadows' was what the new employees were referred to, because they spent a couple of hours listening into the calls received by the employees. The way it worked was that they would sit next to the tech taking a call and plug in an extra headphone set in the phone equipment used by the Verizon agents. That way they got to listen to both ends of the conversation, making learning a whole lot simpler and efficient for the new employees of what their new job would be like after the first three week training bay. Being a 'shadow' was fun in a way because they weren't exactly working yet. And since they were seated next to the employee to whose call they were listening too, whenever there was a lull in the calls, they could chat with the other employees without calls as well.
In Sam's case, the first day went by rather quickly. He didn't really get too much of a chance to talk to anyone, because the first day was entirely spent at the classroom, with the exception of lunch hour. The second day Sam and Dean had fixed their lunch schedule so they could have it at the same time, that way helping them to find a time during the day to talk over the possibilities of the answer to the case. Dean had taken the entire day to fully explore the building from top to bottom, and he was confident that he had committed every corner to memory.
By the third day, the Verizon instructor finally took the 'class' down to operations, and let them sit next to whichever employee they felt comfortable with working—that is to say, who they preferred taking calls with. There were about 20 people in Sam's class, the majority of them men. Sam stood a little ways off in the background, trying to figure out who would be the best kind of CS (customer service) agent to sit next too. He was also taking into consideration the location of the cubicle, since he knew that if he expected to extract any kind of information, it would have to be preferably in a cubicle in a corner where it would be harder for anyone to eavesdrop. Finally spotting a young man at the far end of the room whose cubicle was next to the wall, he made his way purposely to him, pulling along with him the wheeled chair that the instructor had given to each of them a while ago.
Clearing his throat in order to grab the young man's attention, Sam offered his hand politely when the young man turned to see who was behind him. Seeing the outstretched hand, he gave it a simple shake and smiled slightly with closed lips.
"Hi, I guess you're one of the new guys, huh?" the thin dude asked in a strange mixture of a monotone voice blended in with squeakiness and almost hyperactivity. It made Sam think of some strange sort of recording.
"Hey…yeah…" Sam replied simply as he positioned the chair next to him. Then before sitting down he signaled to the extra headset he had in his hands, as if asking permission. "You ok with getting me as a listening buddy?" he asked politely before sitting down.
The guy blinked as he readjusted his huge bottle rimmed glasses, and nodded almost nervously as he backed his seat a little to give him more room. "Yeah, sure…hey, uh…hi…I'm Jeb," he introduced himself as he hunched his shoulders and laced his fingers together and placed them stiffly in his lap.
"Sam," Sammy replied simply as he took in the strange appearance of the guy in front of him. He had shaggy brown unkept hair and a checkered shirt that was clearly huge on his small frame. He wore worn out jeans and black converse tennis shoes. Taking in his overall appearance and strange hunched up form, Sam couldn't quite make out whether he was a nut, or just a harmless nerd. "Nice to meet you,' he added a few seconds later.
"Yeah," Jeb replied absently as he pulled of his head seat and rested it on his shoulders. Then seeing Sam look at him quietly, he pointed to his computer as if in explanation. "I don't have a call right now…just finished with the client before you sat down."
Sam nodded and shook his head slightly, not getting where this was going. "Uh…yeah…sure…"
"Oh…it's just that I don't want you to think I'm neglecting my work or anything…you know," explained Jeb simply. "We don't always have calls all day long."
"That's good to know," Sam said with a light smile as he settled comfortably back into his seat. He had a notion that Jeb was far from done talking.
Jeb laughed, his eyes crinkling. He had a sort of high pitched and nervous laugh, which made Sam hope he didn't laugh too often. "Yes, now, Mondays are nightmares." He paused as if in deep thought. "You won't like Mondays too much," he added brightly, as if stating a new fact.
"Does anybody?" Sam asked pleasantly.
Jeb smiled widely. Apparently, he wasn't used to having people listen to him. He was more used to being brushed off like a pesky mosquito. "Mondays now, you get call after call after call…man, I'm telling you dude, you don't get a single freaking minute to yourself."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Peachy."
"Actually, it used to be that before if you needed to go to the bathroom, you needed to raise your hand so your supervisor could turn off the phone equipment. You didn't get the chance to log off and on like we can now. So you new guys are actually lucky. We have like this program now…see here," he pointed to the screen and opened it so Sam could see. "That connects the calls to our headset. See, and if you finish a call and need to go to the bathroom or lunch, you log off here," he pointed to a button on the program, "and then you log back on when you get back."
"Seriously? But then how about if someone gets too smart about it and decides to log off for hours just to avoid getting calls?" Sam asked with interest despite himself.
Jeb smiled in amusement and his ab muscles seemed to contract slightly at Sam's question.
"What?" Sam didn't see what was funny about his question.
"Oh, I'm sorry…it's just that I guess you new guys don't know yet about the potty time."
"Potty time?! What the—"
Jeb chuckled in amusement at Sam's face. His eyebrows had practically lifted to his hairline. "Sorry, I forget you're new…we call it potty time here…kinda like an inside joke if ya know what I mean." He sighed and sat up straight in his chair, his hands gripping the sides of his arm rests on his chair. "See, the thing is we only have 15 minutes a day to go the bathroom. If you log off more than those 15 minutes the supervisor keeps track of all that stuff in his computer, and he will have your head on a platter if you go over that time limit."
"Fifteen freaking minutes? You gotta be kidding me, right?" Sam looked in askance at him.
"Oh, there was this one guy last month…see, he took in total in the day 17 minutes in bathroom time and next day, instead of his half hour lunch, he only got 25 minutes and—"
"Whoa…back up…half an hour lunch? Whatever happened to happy one hour lunch times?"
"Oh, you only get an hour lunch during training bay…after that you'll get the normal 30 minutes we all get," Jeb explained good-naturedly. "Yeah, it kinda stinks, but don't worry you'll get used to it. We all do."
"I guess we don't get much of a choice?"
"Well, if you're like the rest of us that barely got the chance to finish high school, then yeah," Jeb responded almost sadly as he looked blankly at the computer screen. Turning back to face Sam he added, "Which I imagine is what brings you to take a job like this, right?"
Sam bowed his head as he chocked back a laugh. I wonder what you would say if I told you that I not only have a law degree, but that the only reason I'm in this crappy call center is that I'm looking for a ghost…or demon… Sam gave Jeb a half smile, and responded smoothly, "You nailed it, all right."
In case you think I have an extremely wild imagination...the setting for this story...Telvista Call Center...does indeed exist...in fact...I worked there for about a year! And the things mentioned here are Gospel truth...no exaggerations whatsoever...crazy huh? lol
Anway, hope you like so far! Be friend and drop me a review! They help my muse be happy and hence, write more :)