DISCONTINUED

You'd been working at Cognito Inc. for at least a few months now. You had little to no idea what you were actually supposed to be doing at any given time, however since the tasks seemed to pop up at random and not require or even remotely entail any form of degree or specific ability whatsoever, you decided it wasn't really a problem. Your boss was the real challenge.
Reagan Ridley was an interesting specimen to say the least. She was of incredibly simple persona, however some things about her still confused you. She was so intelligent she could have no problem with any sort of technological issue, yet she seemed painfully useless at anything social. She never slept due to her insanely overdone focus on her work, she'd turn into a high speed assault machine if you so much as even brushed past her, and you were tallying the amount of days since she'd taken a shower. The number was painfully high, and you were quite sure you'd lost count a couple of days ago.

Here you were today, sitting around the table glancing about at your co-workers, who seemed to be as interested in what the brunette was blathering about as you were. All except Brett, of course, who was paying excruciatingly close attention to his friend's words, scribbling notes down on his hand and sticking his tongue out the side of his mouth in concentration. You bit back an amused smile, resisting the urge to tease him.
You'd only known him for the duration of your job at Cognito, but he'd more or less immediately become a sort of big brother to you. Something about his blissful ignorance of almost anything was refreshing, and he was one of the only co-workers you had that felt like they actually cared about you and your feelings. It was comforting, and you appreciated him for it. He felt your stare, and looked up at you with a blank, almost surprised expression. It was so endearing that you couldn't help but giggle, earning a glare from Reagan that sent you sinking back down into your seat. "Y/N, have you even been listening to a single fucking word I've been saying?" She paused from her pacing and leant forward, hands on the desk, raising an expectant eyebrow at you, then turning to the others. "Have any of you?" You watched them squirm nervously in their seats, all except for Gigi, who shook her head with a simple but enthusiastic "mm-mm."

Reagan stayed in the same position for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend the sheer lack of arse of her team, before standing, throwing her hands in the air, and exiting the room, the door sliding shut with a hiss. Nobody spoke for a moment, then Andre started chuckling nervously. Brett's face slid into his hands, and Gigi gave you a briefly satirical smile that told you it wasn't your fault, more of a team effort.

"The fuck wasp got stuck in her panties?" Retorted Myc after ten seconds of silence. You glared. You hated Myc. So much. You understood he had his own issues, and that sometimes he could be quite comical if he tried, but above all of this, he was just plain rude and annoying. Obviously he knew this, and he either teased you or avoided you entirely depending on what mood he was in. You sighed, folding your arms and resting your head in the crook of your elbow, exhausted from yesterday's task, and lack of sleep due to the timings. It had been late evening into early morning, and sitting at a desk listening to Reagan's less than expressive voice droning on about the disappearance of surveillance pigeons hadn't been the least melatonin-inducing activity to top it off. Your whole body was begging for sleep, and you wondered with sudden realisation how on earth Reagan went weeks at a time without sleeping. You felt what might've been a pang of pity. Was she really that obsessed with her work that she felt like this all the time? You couldn't imagine dealing with that.

Your eyes fluttered back open as you heard the door and the poor woman herself practically stumbled in, head in her hands. "Whatever. I've decided I don't have the energy today. Go have the rest of the day off, drink some lighter fluid, smoke some pot, I don't give a fuck." She watched the others practically explode from their chairs, rushing out of the room with little cheers of triumph, then turned to you and Brett, who you knew wouldn't have left anyway. His face creased with anxiety, and he stood up slowly, walking over to where Reagan was pacing quickly, hands clasped together, breathing abnormally quickly. She turned to face him, and immediately breathed, "I hate this team, why can't anybody do anything right, why does nobody listen to me, why does everyone just treat this like it's pointless, why do they treat me like a problem when they're just fucking lazy and can't be bothered to follow instructions?" Your eyes widened as you saw her tear up. You'd never seen Reagan look this... human, before. The growing feeling of pity got stronger, and you watched Brett put a hand on her shoulder and start speaking to her softly, attempting to calm her down, to little avail. She gave a half-hearted, breathy laugh at something he said, but immediately resumed her previous state once the humour had worn off. She then seemed to realise you were still in the room, and abruptly stopped talking, turning her head to you. "I... didn't realise you were still here." She sounded almost apologetic, which confused you slightly. "Why? I thought you'd jump at the chance to get some sleep." You shrugged. "I guess I was more worried about you- or the reason you let us have the day off." She seemed a little surprised by this, and somewhere deep in her eyes you caught a hint of appreciation, but it was quickly washed away as she looked between you and Brett, before sighing, turning, and disappearing into her office. "What's the matter..?" You asked softly once the door was shut. You watched Brett shift nervously, before shaking his head. "Sorry, she... she's very clear about who she does and doesn't want to know about stuff.” That made you feel a little left out, but you nodded. "Fair enough. I’ve never… seen her like this before.” Brett looked anxious, then sighed. “She- she’s like it all the time, she’s just good at acting like it doesn’t bother her. She’s gonna stay late to work on some stuff, I can take you home if you want.” He offered a smile, watching your face expectantly. He looked so eager that you gave a breathy laugh, and nodded. “Okay, okay. Don’t crash the car, Reagan’ll kill you if we can’t come into work.” 

- - -

You were in your office, head resting on your hand, half-asleep, when your phone buzzed. Reagan wanted you in her lab, and sharpish judging by the ominous period at the end of the message. You peeked around the door, wrinkling your nose at the smell. Yep, definitely lost count of that tally. “Oh, good, there you are.” Her voice behind you made you jump, and she handed you a bolt, guiding you over to an unfinished bot lying on the table. She clicked her fingers and pointed to a loose cog, continuing to tinker with stuff around the other side. You couldn’t make out what the bot was meant to resemble, but it was quite small compared to some of her others, and had a smooth part on either side, that seemed separate from the main ‘body.’ Both parts were frilled with smaller pieces at the end, sort of like a… “Oh!” You piped up as you screwed the bolt into place. “Is it a bird?” You watched Reagan smile slightly as she tightened something. “Spot on. Struggling a little with the programming, but since our surveillance pigeons are going missing, thought i should make something bigger. More capable.” Your heartbeat sped up excitedly. “Like what?” She glanced up, fixing you with a satisfied smirk. “I dunno, was thinking maybe an owl.” You could feel the light dancing in your eyes. You loved owls. “Wh-what type? What will its wingspan be? Will it be able to turn its head all the way?” You watched Reagan giggle at your excitement, and felt a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I love owls!” You were aware that you could be a little more childish than other people your age, especially when it came to areas of interest. You were quite sure it wasn’t considered normal, but Reagan never seemed to mind. You smiled, feeling a hint of comfort. Had she built the owl for you? No. She wouldn’t be so open. Would she?

“What, d’you do this for me?” You smirked, pretending you weren’t really interested. You were suprised when she smiled to herself as she fiddled with something at the base of the wing. “I mean, kind of, actually. Knew you liked owls and you didn’t seem to give a shit about the pigeons, so…” You frowned. Of course. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry about the meeting. It was kinda boring though. Plus, you kept covering the same points, and like- goddamn, did you have to make it drag on so long?” She shot you a look, then, to your further surprise, chuckled slightly. "I guess it was pretty shitty." She smiled to herself, nodding at a wrench behind you, which you promptly handed to her. You'd barely ever seen Reagan smile. It was strangely fitting, for a face that you were so used to seeing scrunched into a scowl. As you looked at her now, working away at this machine that she'd built from scratch, it struck you again just how impressive her mind was.

"Can I ask you something?" 
Her gaze lifted, eyes resting on yours.
"How come you're so good at this stuff? Brett told me you were a genius even when you were little. Did it just... happen?" 
Reagan shifted on the spot, looking a little uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, I guess." You nodded, not asking any further.
 The two of you worked in silence for a while, you studying the wings of the metal creature, handing Reagan various tools when she asked for them. She broke the silence, "How come you stuck around yesterday? I know you didn't really give a shit about the meeting ending so abruptly, and I can tell how tired you were..." She paused her work and looked up at you, something of genuine curiosity in her eyes. She watched you falter, then sigh.
"I guess I just- didn't want to go home." You shrugged. "It's boring there, and when I'm here I have people to talk to... I have stuff to be interested in, I guess." You watched her nod slowly, before she put down the equipment she was holding and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, smearing a patch of oil across her face. "Oh- you got something there." You grinned, finding her obliviousness slightly endearing. She paused, feeling around for the black stain and cursing softly. "Whatever."
She stretched, yawning, before walking toward the door, signalling for you to follow with a click and a point. She liked doing that.

"How'd you lose your finger, by the way? I don't think I asked before." You watched her pause, before shrugging. "Got shot by an absolute prick that used to call himself my boss." You blinked, nodding. "I see. Hate when that happens," You joked, watching her smile slightly, before dropping back into a frown. She was hiding something, but you'd learnt that it was best not to pry.

sorry it’s kinda short, I’ve written a LOT more, but thought it sounded better as a new chapter. gotta finish that one, then I’ll post <3 

also the formatting on this website kinda sucks, so sorry if the structuring is a bit weird