Fandom: Life on Mars [Shock. Horror.]
Word Count: 379 words...
Notes: Gen! I wrote this as commentfic to blancafic, because I ♥ her.
"Gene - what are you doing on my computer?"
"I'm trying to get the thingmathing into the wotzit."
Sam leaned over, seeing Microsoft Word on the screen. A single word, 'Dear' graced its presence. Sam had been surprised to find that Gene could type; it had been part of his role during his National Service, but he didn't appear to enjoy the light touch keyboard of Sam’s PC. Yet.
"What're you trying to do again?"
"You know you told me about that thing?"
"I dunno. The blagging trashcan thing," Gene replied, rocking back in his chair and lighting a cigarette. Sam rolled his eyes. "It's like scrunching up paper and putting it in the bin, you said. 'Cept you've got to empty the bin from time to time, and not by setting it alight."
"Ah. Yes. I do remember that."
"Well, I'm trying to use that."
"Here, hand me the mouse."
"You got a hungry kitten?"
"Something like that."
Sam minimised word and opened up the recycle bin. He also opened up 'My Documents'. He set the screen to have them both showing at once, with the recycle bin staying on top at all times.
"Here, you can just drag and drop whatever file you want to delete straight into here."
"Thanks," Gene said, and Sam nearly had a fit in shock. He stood back to allow Gene room and watched as Gene maximised word again. Gene put the cursor over the little dancing paperclip on the screen and started to drag it to the end of the window, towards the recycle bin, as it asked if Gene needed help typing his letter. He swore loudly when it wouldn't go.
"No, it doesn't work like that."
"You mean I'm stuck with the little bastard?"
"I can turn him off."
"For Christ's sake do. I've almost punched the screen twice."
"You know, you've been absolutely nothing but trouble since you decided to come back with me? Really."
"C'mon, Sam. What'd you do without me?"
"Have fun? Work efficiently?"
Gene pushed his lips forward and narrowed his eyes in triumph. "Be miserable. And you know it."
"... I'm getting you your own computer next weekend."
"If you could turn the paperclip into a bottle of scotch, that'd be grand."