Author's note: Hi everyone! This is my belated answer to the call to arms for Geek Pride. I dusted up my old Villains and Vigilantes character sheets and concocted this idyll; it's a little different from my usual fare... but not by much! I hope you enjoy your read and, well... to quote Jeff Dee: be a superhero! :)
P.S. Sometimes I am able to throw in some sex early in the story... but try as I might, it just doesn't work with this story outline; as a result, the sexual encounters happen rather late in the proceedings... you have been warned.
1.- Meet-cute at a shoot
"There you go, Miss Mitra... sparkling water with ice and a slice of lime. If you would just give me a second, while you refresh yourself, I will try to wrestle Allan away from his workstation so he can join us."
"Thank you, Mr. Jeong... and please call me Teresa."
Jeong Nam-il instantly blushed deep red before replying "... not a chance, Miss Mitra!" He quickly left the small R&R area, leaving the young model alone to enjoy her water and peruse her surroundings.
If she would ever have the time to take roots somewhere, Chaha Mitra told herself this could be the place. The scenery at eye level was a curious mixture of peace and effervescence, with various youths of all genders and colors resting with some form of liquid caffeine, discussing vividly in front of virtual billboards or just seemingly surfing on portable computer pads. The blend of soft electronic music and chatter, plus the joviality and intensity of the sparse crowd, were all evidence that this abode was a think tank of the first order.
This contrasted somewhat with the decoration of the corporate refuge. For one thing, its name - the Drop Zone - was lettered in an old bright red neon sign that was more reminiscent of a Doo-Wop museum than a hub of innovation. And the walls, for their part, were nothing short of a Starship Troopers Hall of Fame: they were completely covered with framed reproductions of book covers, movie posters, screenshots, costumes, props, game boards and several life-like 1:1 scale bug sculptures. Someone here must be a crazy huge fan, Chaha thought, before gladly taking advantage of this precious quiet time to rest her eyes and meditate.
---
"We're going to need an additional ladder, and quick! And maybe heli support!"
"Copy that... negative for heli, not enough sky and too much turbulence. The call for support is already sent. How many are left up there?"
"Two whole floors; they couldn't evacuate in time..."
Allan Casey stopped paying attention to his hearing aid and stared in worry at the afternoon rush hour traffic from a plethora of data screens. He quickly tapped commands, to compute an ingress/egress route, but his thought process was frozen still by the sound of an access card confirmation, followed by Nam-il opening his office door. He dropped to his chair and tapped a finger to dim all his screens, save one which had a solitaire game in progress. "What is it, Nam?"
Nam-il instantly recognized his focus and his tone. "We have a situation?"
"Maybe... but so far it's still under control."
"Will you use the Mobile?"
"In that traffic? Naaa... if I get involved, I'll run it from here. So, what have you got for me?" Allan was in the process of finishing his FreeCell.
"Well... she's here and she's waiting to meet you in the Drop Zone."
"Who's here?" Allan knew very well the answer, but he always enjoyed playing dumb when attempting to resist an unwanted corporate duty. A fact his best friend, lawyer and CFO knew all too well.
"Chaha Teresa Mitra... you know who: our new image for the campaign."
"You really think it's a good idea? You know I'm not very keen about branding our hearing aids with a pretty face."
Nam-il replied as if his partner and CEO had not just questioned a campaign that was about to be signed and launched. "A good idea? Allan, where have you been this last year? She's only Miss Planet Earth!!! She recently finished her pageantry duties and her agent kept accusing me, loudly, of witchcraft: she's squeezing this gig between two of her modeling shoots and she's doing it for a tenth of her usual commission! It seems she loves New-York and that she's one of our actual clients. Besides, your hearing aids are so awesome, nobody sees them! So yes, we do need a pretty face to advertise The Most Beautiful Sound On Earth! Now, you're going to move your butt over there and be civil..."
"Mitra, you say? Mmmh... that sounds Bengali or Hindu... should be easy to find... ah yes, there we are." Allan was hooked and, when he was, his uniquely creative brain always became a single-goal organ. Nam-il knew Allan wasn't listening to him anymore, so he just waited him out. "Geez! Tinnitus coupled to a severe retro-cochlear loss at three non-harmonic frequency bands! Now that's an achievement I'm proud to advertise!"
"Yes, well... she's also unimaginably beautiful and a graduate of the Indian Agricultural Research Institute, so stop making her wait and come on over! And no, we are not just shooting her ear and her hearing aid!"
"Why not?" Both guffawed, and the short walk between locales quickly devolved into a frivolous exchange of anatomical quips.
---
Chaha opened her eyes, rested and serene, to drink a sip of her water and greet her hosts for the day. She already knew this would be a very pleasant assignment, as she was truly eager to be the spokesmodel for her treasured hearing aid; however, she did not expect the appearance of a recluse prodigious inventor who actually looked like a retired heavyweight boxer.
"Mr. Casey?"
All eyes were now on Allan, as was almost always the case when he walked into the Drop Zone to talk shop or unwind with his coworkers; but at that moment, Allan Casey was summoning all his willpower to remain coherent. To say he was bedazzled would be an understatement of epic proportions.
(Oh myyyyy! In a lehenga, she would be worshipped as the daughter of Kama and Rati! Come on, Casey... don't drool!)
"That... would be me, yes... and you, Miss Mitra, need no introduction, of course! I must say, if you will excuse my cliche, that your pictures and your crown do not do you justice. And I hope our little Nerdvannah here is to your liking."
"I do like it here, and it's a pleasure to meet you. You know, I could return the cliche, Mr. Casey: you look very different from what I expected."
"That, I will take as a compliment; and please call me Allan." He shook her hand with more excitement than he would have liked, but Allan had never felt anything as soft as her skin and he was only paying attention to her beguiling smile. "You know, we're all excited here about your involvement with Casey Nanosystems... it will be an amazing boon. Thank you very much for agreeing to this!"
"Think nothing of it, please... I'm thrilled to be soon associated with your acoustic products."
Although Allan was very aware he was behaving like a young groupie rather than a 47 year-old CEO, he could have sworn that, for an instant, Chaha had actually shivered and lowered her eyes. She was as tall as he was, 5 ft. 9 in., so in fact, Allan thought with glee that they would dance at eye level unless she wore heels.
(What the hell is wrong with me!?! She could be MY daughter! Snap out of it, you creep!!!)
But Allan was having a dreadful time of it. Chaha Teresa Mitra, even if only wearing an off-white camisole, black jeggings and a pair of sneakers, was an arresting sight of near perfection. Her shoulder-length, golden maroon hair was unkempt and wavy, yet it looked styled; her emerald-green eyes sparkled continuously; her caramel colored nose, cheeks and chin were noble and unblemished; her shy smile was inviting, warm and guarding a treasure of crimson softness; her figure, the fluid sway of her magnificent curves, her aroma, her poise... all of her was perfect, all of her was pure and all of her was love.
"Very well. So... huh... tell me, Miss Mitra..."
"Call me Teresa, please."
"You really prefer that friends call you by your middle name?"
"All right then, it's settled: I call you Allan and you call me Chaha!" She was giggling and extricated her hand from Allan's grasp, to his great embarrassment.
"Oh... huh... sorry about that..." she forgave him with an amused smile. "So... Chaha, why do you like our hearing aids so much that you would practically volunteer for this, as Nam told me?"
"What's not to like about them, Allan? They restored my hearing! They're comfortable! They're practically invisible! You have this amazing non-profit foundation to make sure that as many people as possible can get them! And I'm told you program most of them yourself!"
"Guilty on all counts... and I assuredly programmed yours: I won't pretend to remember, but it must have been a challenge... if you don't mind my asking, what trauma brought about your hearing loss?"
"A burn, a cracked skull and a concussion, when I was rescued from a fire... so I was told. I was two years old when it happened."
"I see. Nam, please remind me how did we intend to shoot this?"
Nam-il was grateful to be finally included in the conversation. "Very straightforward. The photographer is already setting up his lighting in the acoustics lab and Miss Mitra will choose her appearance. Then we shoot her in front of the working crew - beauty and technology. I don't know anything about fashion, but it shouldn't take more than an hour or two... Allan?"
Allan was lost in thought and obviously in the process of rapidly leaving; Nam-il understood instantly. "The lab beckons?"
He answered tit-for-that, a routine they had perfected for years. "Yes, there's a fluctuation in the particle accelerators that requires immediate attention... Chaha, it was a great pleasure to meet you and I'm sorry to run. Nam, please make sure she gets paid her full commission, on top of a lifetime pro-bono agreement for renewing her hearing aid; and take her where she needs to..."
"HuuUHHH? WHAT!?!" Both men froze in place. Chaha looked shocked, almost terrified.
"Are you all right, Miss Mitra?" Nam-il took over and Allan, grateful, left them there, striding towards his office.
