The computer screen lit his face in a ghostly blue light, the screen reflecting in two mirror images on his glasses. His jaw was a little slack, and his eyes darted to and fro, as his fingers flew. It was amazing to watch the text fill the page, and immensely difficult to imagine that such dense code could explode forth from someone that looked like he might start drooling at any second.

I stretched, and stood, pacing. I had to assume he knew what he was doing, as I certainly didn’t. He’d explained it to me, and I kinda got the end result, but couldn’t for the life of me grasp the details. The withering glance I’d get if I asked again would kill Tom Cruise’s self esteem. Wasn’t worth it.

He blinked eventually, and his fingers faltered. He scrolled up on the monitor, and frowned, pushing up his glasses with his middle finger. I wondered if it was intentional. He hadn’t liked being coopted for this, any more than I’d liked recruiting him. For better or for worse though, we were in this together.