Gibson couldn’t connect the dots as the manager of his company stood in front of him, a man in his late twenties whose grey hair was streaked with silver and who wore a suit and a tie that were both too tight around his face to be comfortable. The fact he didn’t look at all familiar to Gibbs didn’t help matters, but he would have recognized the look on the man’s face if he had seen it before. Gibbs frowned at the young, attractive man in front of him and said “Mr… what did you say your name was again?” The man blinked at him owlishly before answering, “Dr. Ziva David, Mr. Gibbs. I am an assistant professor at the University of California here in Los Angeles. Your associate hired me to evaluate the health of your company and its employees for the foreseeable future.” He paused, as if waiting for some kind of reaction from his employer, before saying, “He informed me that you were also looking for someone to take care of your children. We are going to go over the procedures he prepare
“I’m not happy about all this,” Gibson said to his coworkers as they all sat together in the break room at work, drinking coffee and discussing the new project coming up that would take them off of lunch for the next week. “But it could be worse. I mean, you guys know me well enough to know that I don’t have a good attitude when I’ve been assigned to an especially stressful case, and we really do need this new client on our side right now.” He nodded to himself, looking more than a little pleased with himself. Gibson was a man of many talents. The way he thought through things was unmatched amongst their group of lawyers, and no one else had ever shown quite the ability to read people the way he did. That made him an ideal choice for the team of three lawyers tasked with finding out exactly what the hell happened at the bank, and if there were any witnesses who might be willing to testify against the alleged murderer, or at least give some indication of where they could be found. ‘We
Gibson’s mum was waiting for him at his doorstep as he returned from his work place. She didn’t look all that happy. “How many times have I told you to get a mobile phone before work? And how much are these hours you're going to make me pay for the phone when you go on your own again?” she scolded him. Her voice was stern and it sent chills up his spine. “You should be home by now, young man, not out playing with those boys again! They aren't going to do anything good if they don't have proper supervision!" she lectured. He felt guilty about ditching his friends earlier that day after school to come and fetch him, but they had insisted he had to help them study for a biology test coming up soon, and he couldn't back down. It would look bad on him to say no to them, considering what a great bunch of friends they were. So he'd said yes despite feeling like a hypocrite, thinking deep in his heart, "If I'm not there to protect them, then maybe it's time to step up." That's when he decide
As Gibson sat in his office, his thoughts returned to how he got into this position in the first place. It had started with a simple question, as most of his jobs did, “Do you have any books about a character named John Smith?” And as if that weren’t enough, a series of small encounters followed by one really long one and a very awkward one at the end led to him being offered a job here. He had turned it down, he wanted nothing to do with it. But now, sitting behind this desk, looking at the stacks of paper that covered his walls, he couldn’t turn it down again. He needed this gig. A chance to make some money. And who better to work for than his own favorite character. The storyteller John Smith who, according to all the papers, was fictional. He knew this, but still it didn't stop him from writing. He had already written the first draft and it had been rejected, so what else would he have left to write? He wasn’t allowed back at university yet, which is why he worked here instead o
Gibson was forced to sing along at his business tea party. The woman he was with was a big fan and the song seemed appropriate enough that she started humming it loudly as they talked about her latest book. He couldn’t help but be envious of this person, this girl who knew so many interesting things and had such an exciting life, yet he was stuck here in the boring office of a company that made no money. He wasn’t complaining though - the pay sucked ass and being alone in the room with his boss all day was probably worse - but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. The woman continued to hum and sing, which annoyed him even more, and eventually she looked up and smiled when she realized what she was doing. “Oh, sorry! I keep singing! I do this sometimes to help myself think. I have trouble not singing if I can't talk to someone. It helps my brain to get away from reality.” She paused for a second, seemingly lost in thought before she shook herself out of it. “Sorry you have to list
Gibson read through the book he found on his office desk and grimaced at it. There was no reason to be upset about it, really, but he couldn’t help himself - he had been doing so well with this one! He had made a decent dent in his stack of files, he even had written half of what he needed for the article, which meant that he had to do something else soon! It wasn’t like him to let things drag out like this, but after last night - well, if there was anything that could get the better of him, it was stress, and stress sucked. He should have known better than to get distracted by that guy’s phone number, though! He didn’t deserve the chance, not when Gibson was just beginning to work his way up. But it was all gone now. He had forgotten the date, and he could barely remember any details from before he went home last night, and the only time he had remembered them was during the day. And then, well, then there were all those people who were still in his head - the ones who kept talking
“I want to speak to Gibson,” the light skinned lady said sternly as she entered the office, her voice low and dangerous. It was not a question, it was an order, and the man at the desk knew better than to disobey it. He quickly picked up his phone and dialed Gibson’s number. The woman waited impatiently as he tried to connect the two calls, and when that failed, she turned to face him expectantly. Her face was hard and determined and made her eyes look darker than they normally would. She had dark circles under her eyes that made them seem bruised. Her lips were pressed tightly together, her hands clasped behind her back. She looked like someone who was about to get her way, which was probably true. She stood there looking intimidating until Gibson answered his cell, “Yes? Is everything alright?” His voice sounded worried and confused, and the woman felt a pang of guilt for scaring him with what she had been going to say earlier. “Hi Gibson, it’s me. I just... need a little help to
Gibson couldn’t feel his arms again as he had over used them at the his workplace earlier that day. He had tried to carry a huge amount of paperwork for his boss’s office when he had gotten home, but it had been too much, and had dropped everything. The paper had made little to no dent in his overall mass, so he’d put on a shirt to protect it from the cold of the night. When it started to rain while he was on his way back to the office, however, he had lost all hope of getting the papers back to his boss before the storm began. So here he was again. He sighed and walked around the corner of an apartment building with no door visible, trying to get some cover from the rain by leaning against one of its walls. It seemed like the right decision, however, as he could see that the entrance to the apartment building was only five feet away, so it was just about possible for him to get inside without the water being wet through. He pushed off from the wall and started walking towards the ent