Lab Rats: Rain Check

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Sal here.  Just so you know, there are a few throwaway remarks that might serve as triggers.  Don't take them seriously, they are meant mostly in fun.  Mostly. ;)  I just want that to be understood beforehand.  Now, in the meantime, enjoy this picture of Greg Ki- I mean, Stuart Preus, and let's continue with the three blind mice- uh, lab rats.

"He's running a little behind today, isn't he?" C noted suddenly, looking at the time.  

K shot him a sidelong glance.  "Preus has never been the most punctual, to my knowledge.  He's often five to six minutes late, at least."

"Perhaps, but he should have been here an hour ago," C pointed out.  "No call or anything.  How odd."

"He'll get here," K murmured.  In the back of his mind, however, K wondered if Stuart's delay had anything to do with his rather barbed encounter with Freddie the night before.  

Julia had not gone much into detail when she mentioned it to him over the phone that morning; she didn't have to.  As soon as K walked into the lab today, he had found several members of the team snickering over the night's highlights as recorded by C's "mystery mike."  The audio had obviously been edited- in Stuart's favor, of course- but that didn't hamper anyone's mirth. 

Although he found it a disgusting invasion of privacy, one that bordered on criminal, K chose to keep quiet about it. For as the years had shown, C had a penchant for quiet, swift retaliation. While he himself thankfully had never been the victim, K had no desire to walk in tomorrow and be faced with his most crippling weakness: catching his colleagues as they guffawed heartily over his wretched singing. 

(It seemed silly to some, but K did indeed have a real problem.  Since childhood, K had hated his slow, wavering manner of speech, and hated the sound of his singing voice even more- and the thought of people hearing him sing "Lyin' Eyes" while scrubbing down in the shower was enough to make him turn bright red.  Granted, to Julia's credit, the fear had drastically diminished; at his worst point, hearing his recorded voice literally caused him to crawl under the nearest desk and stay there, curled up in a ball with his ears plugged.  Nevertheless, remnants of the fear still lingered, enough to do substantial damage to his confidence.)

The lab door clicked closed.  On instinct K looked up to see Dr. Preus at last briskly making his way toward the machine, rolling up the sleeves of his pressed button-down shirt.

"Where were you?" C asked. 

Stuart shook his head.  "In my office, trying not to go completely mental on the security guy."

K frowned.  "What for?"

C's next question made K's first one utterly moot.  "You mean they still can't find the lost ten seconds?"

Dr. Preus shook his head, sighing.  "There's just no footage, it's like that ten seconds never even happened; the cameras are moving toward the lab door one moment- and in the next, there's the door, clicking shut.  No sign of the kid or anybody else hacking the code."

"It couldn't have been Danny," K murmured.  "And it sure as hell wasn't me."

C arched his brow.  "You were the only one down there with him, though."

"I couldn't have been, I was -uh, occupied.  There must have been someone else.  Danny would know."

Stuart thought a moment.  "I don't know how much trust I'd put in an eight-year-old's recollection-"

"Danny's nine," K corrected him.

"Whatever.  Point is, he's the one who brought B-13 over, this essentially is his doing.  And kids will say anything to cover their own butts."

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