An Apartment in Port-Au-Prince, Haiti, Sunday Morning

[dollpocalypse]

It was morning on day seven of Topher working for Peter, and so far he was finding it to be pretty symbiotic. Work made repression really, really easy, after all, and he was starting to see why Peter was such a workaholic all the time. Skipping out on sleep and meals when he could just tweak code on the holographic desk until things made sense was way better than actually thinking about things.

Granted, the fact that he was working for Peter meant that he did eventually have to speak enough to explain things, which was... not ideal, but it was close to worth it.

"Okay," he said, glancing behind him to Peter, "so here's what I got for you."

His fingers flew over holographic keys on Peter's desk as he ran through a quick and fortunately un-technobabbled explanation of how the new mail filters would work, some quick shortcuts to make gathering intel less of a challenge next time, and finally a few unnecessary and entirely overcomplicated upgrades he'd set up that should make the servers a lot more secure and manageable.

"Got it?"

[[for one, obviously, and SP.]]

Comments

[dollpocalypse]

"Yeah, well." Topher made a face. "I'd take a week of wasted time over what it had me doing."

Which was, you know, also a week of wasted time.

[lockestheway]

Peter reached over and patted him on the shoulder. Physical contact! Be proud! "At least you're trying to make up for it," he said. Oh god, Peter. Not everything was about you. "Though I'm still not completely caught up."

[dollpocalypse]

...That was just a world of bizarreness, Peter.

"I could stay longer," Topher said hopefully. Peter was... easier to do reparations for than he figured Billy and Victor and everyone else might be. "I could just not leave until you're fully caught up. And everyone at Fandom graduates or explodes or something."

[lockestheway]

Peter rolled his eyes. "I don't want to deal with your parents calling me to ask where their only son is," he said. "I've barely got mine figured out."

You still didn't quite have yours figured out, Peter.

[dollpocalypse]

"Crap." Well, it'd been worth a shot. "Last resort, I guess I can just try it the old-fashioned way and just get kicked out of school."

No you would not, Topher.

[lockestheway]

Peter shrugged. "If you want another one of those on your transcript," he said. "But I'm sure you've gotten bored of hacking into school databases. Then again, it's your life, buddy."

[dollpocalypse]

Topher stared down. "Hacking into school databases is better than reprogramming people I'm sorta friends with and having them arrest people I'm sorta dating and then having to talk to them both again," he mumbled.

Look, it wasn't like Peter had been about to ask.

[lockestheway]

Or, y'know, care. Sorry, Topher.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Really?" he said. "You know that week was basically just a really vivid fever dream, right, or I'd never be able to wash Karla off of me."

[dollpocalypse]

...

"Wait. What?"

GOOD GOD, PETER.

[lockestheway]

"Oh, don't make me tell you when I'm trying really hard to repress it," Peter said. Despite bringing it up.

Wiggins were really bad at repressing.

[dollpocalypse]

"You brought it up," Topher pointed out reasonably. "You seriously kissed Karla ? Dude, why?"

Close, Topher.

[lockestheway]

"I don't know, other me was insane," Peter said, waving it off. "I had a shower and that was the end of it."

[dollpocalypse]

"Ew," Topher pronounced. "That's almost as bad as the me thing."

Which, considering Topher's drama-queen tendencies, was saying something. Something mean and uncalled-for, but.

[lockestheway]

"Not me," Peter said, waving it off. "I actually have taste."

[dollpocalypse]

"And Karla counts as taste?" TOPHER. "I mean, I guess that's better than putting Billy in jail, but..."

[lockestheway]

"No," Peter said, and whacked him lightly upside the head. "I mean I have taste. I don't know who that guy last week was, but he was clearly inferior to me."

[dollpocalypse]

"How do you figure?"

[lockestheway]

Peter shot him a funny look. "He slept with Karla," he said.

Because really.

[dollpocalypse]

"You slept with her?" Topher. Inside voice. "I mean, he -- ugh. Ew." He shuddered. "I guess they would have to be worse versions of us, then."

Yes, Topher. Peter just said that.

"For me too, I mean. I guess."

[lockestheway]

"Now you're getting it," Peter said brightly. "So stop your moping, chump, or I'm going to wind up chucking you out the window."

[dollpocalypse]

"So you really don't think there's anything weird about, like, sending a robot to drag the guy I'm dating to detention?" Topher checked. "Or possibly mess up his mind, I didn't realty know what he was gonna do at the time. But, like. Forgivable?"

Topher, honestly. Peter was really not the person to ask.

[lockestheway]

No, seriously. Peter's advice would only make things worse on you, Topher.

"I'd say that since it was one of Fandom's patented 'weird weeks', anyone who'd hold it against you is being a child," said Peter. "They might as well try holding you responsible for the behavior of your cousin or something."

[dollpocalypse]

"...I don't have a cousin." TOPHER.

[lockestheway]

Peter smacked him over the back of the head. "Focus."

[dollpocalypse]

"Ow!" But justified, yes. "I mean, yeah. Okay. Good." He nodded. "And, you know, sorry for tying you to a chair. I guess."