New Computer
You sigh for what seems like the hundredth time in a half hour. You hear Oliver snicker from somewhere in the room behind you. You grab one of the umpteen manuals you have splayed around the desk and fling it over your shoulder. An audible "Oof" lets you know you've struck your target. A satisfied smile spreads across your face, but doesn't last long as you run into yet another red warning box flashing up onto your monitor's screen. You suppress a whimper. Oliver made you upgrade to this treacherous box that bares no resemblance to your comfortable old 'puter...that okay, blew up on you about five seconds after it crashed, but at least it *listened* to you...when it wasn't on fire. This is definitely an Oliver-type machine. Oh sure it looks good, but it's a stubborn bastard and it's giving you a headache. Your shoulders are hunched, your lower back has a dull ache in it, and your neck feels like Freddy Krueger has popped a blade into the top of your spine.
As if reading your mind, two firm hands come to rest on your shoulders, rubbing the knots away. You find yourself nearly purring and look up at Oliver. He smiles down at you, a little cut on his cheek. "Jesus!" You jump out of the desk chair. "Did I do that?" You hold his face in your hands. He just continues to smile.
"It's all right. I've had worse."
"It's not all right. I'm not an eight year old. I had no right. I'm so sorry."
"Darling, you realize I have been shot before."
"Maybe. But not by me."
"True. But this is hardly equivalent. And I did deserve it."
"All the same. "I'm sorry."
He takes your hand from his cheek and kisses the palm. "Tell you what. How about you make it up to me by finishing up our report on my laptop, and I'll see if I can tame this beastie to your will?"
"Normally I would take offense at you schluffing off the paperwork on me, but in this case I think I definitely have the better end of the deal." You cross the room and Oliver sits down in your chair.
"Oh," Oliver calls to you, "And one wouldn't mind if you could somehow be creative enough to find a way that we *don't* owe them for that brand new Mercedes."
You smile, "I'll see what I can do."
In an hour, Oliver is once more at your back, massaging your shoulders. "Gods you're good at that. I think you missed your true vocation." He moves aside your hair and kisses the back of your neck.
"Well, your computer is all set up for you M'Lady."
"Uh huh, I'll believe *that* when I see it, and I'm not even going to attempt it till tomorrow...and then you'd better take my gun away from me."
"How's things your end?"
"They owe us money now."
Oliver grins widely. "Really? How'd you manage that?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you."
He chuckles. "Kill me with kisses?"
"Hmm, now there's a thought. I'll have to give that a try." You stand up and stretch, lacing your arms around his neck. "All right Sampson, prepare to meet thy doom." You lean into him and tilt your head up, taking his lips roughly and smiling when he matches your ardor. He picks you up and carries you toward the bedroom...
|
|
| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |