Between the Lines 02 (futa on male)

The next day Ben found himself staring at Ava nonstop. The blonde hair swung a little as she leaned closer the computer, most likely attempting to make sense of the anarchy Rich had left behind for her. She was tapping her finger on the mouse with an annoyed insistence. He should focus on his own work, he thought. Though the deadline loomed over him like a storm cloud, his eye was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

Rich was on her first day of employment immediately pushing her into the deep end. Classic Richard Jones power play: assign impossible tasks with minimal instruction, then criticize the outcome regardless of quality. Ben had been in that same storm for over two years, his skin toughened against the punches of the project manager, but seeing the new office member suffer, set something in his chest.

Rising from her desk, she leaned back somewhat and massaged her temples. The movement was subdued, just polished enough to prevent anybody passing from catching on to her irritation. Still, Ben understood the essence of the movement. On his own, he had done it many times.

She would much benefit from his assistance. That is the proper course of action. As he considered approaching the gorgeous coworker--especially one he hadn't spoken with before--his palms started to become a little moist on the keyboard. Suppose she felt he was acting rather patronizing? Oh dear, what would happen should Rich discover he was playing around with "his" new hire?

Ben changed his spectacles, an anxious habit he just couldn't kick. The movement did not help him to see well or to think. Glancing across to Ava's desk, he saw her busily cross-referencing something on her computer with a stack of printouts, blurring the code on his own display.

This was pure craziness. For heaven's sake, he was a senior developer. Offering help to a new coworker was completely normal. The fact that her smile had been engraved in his mind since first seeing her had nothing to do with professional courtesy.

Ben pulled his chair back and got up, attempting with each steady breath to slow his pounding heart. Though they seemed like a difficult road of self-doubt, the twelve steps between their desks kept him ahead one foot in front of the other. His hand rose slightly in a welcome as he walked up to her desk; he felt his throat was a little dry than normal.

"Hey Ava! Hey, Ben from the local development staff! Rich's instructions usually seem to be, quite 'creatively ambiguous.'" Ben's voice was more consistent than he expected, although his smile appeared a touch forced.

Ava looked up, clearly surprised on her face, and then there was a slow smile that wrinkled the margins of her eyes. You could sense her shoulders soften as she slid a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Ava laughed, then said, "Wow, that's the most diplomatic way to describe the this confusing gibberish. Working on this was starting to give me a headache." Ava said, clearly bewildered by the assignment. "Nice to meet you, Ben."

She gestured to her screen, where Rich's comments were straightforward and the red lines depicted a battlefield with opposing directions evident definition.

As Ben moved closer trying to retain a respectful distance and gaze at her tablet, his anxiety started to ease. "Do you mind if I look at it? Over time, I have developed a sort of Rich-to English dictionary."

"Sure," she said, moving her chair neatly to provide some room. "I was five minutes away from asking if the plant bybthe break room was hiring."

Ben felt something shift in his chest as he heard the joke; he laughed and focused on the document.

Ben watched Ava glide her skirt back down, her hands running over her slender thighs. She tried to bring her legs together, as though they were uncomfortable or stiff.

As Ben walked up to Ava, he smelt her exquisite perfume--a delicate, floral scent that precisely fit her feminine style.

Ben leaned forward, his eyes darting over the complex commands on Ava's screen. He took a long breath and slid his spectacles up his nose's bridge.

"Okay, so what Rich is asking for here isn't as complicated as it seems," Ben said in a steady, quiet voice. "Let me see if I might simplify it."

As Ben explained things, breaking it down step by step, Ava's eyes brightened with understanding. She nodded with enthusiasm, her ponytail bouncing with every little movement.

"Okay! Yeah, I get it now. Nice!" Ava said, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "So, instead of having to tweak each element by hand, we can just use this nested function to make all the changes at once?"

Ben couldn't help but smile at how quickly she got the concept. "Bingo! You're getting it."

Ava, with a playful glint in her eye, joked, "Sure, spreadsheets can be handy, but they're not the magic solution for saving this company!" Her words had a warm and genuine charm. Ben laughed warmly, clearly on the same page with her observation and pleasantly surprised that she had an opinion about it.

"You know," Ava said, a bit sarcastically, "for a company that says they're all about the users, they really don't put much effort into actual UX design."

Ben laughed and nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it. Sometimes it feels like I'm really struggling just to get the basic usability principles in place."

Ava relaxed in her chair, a playful smirk on her lip. "What if we kicked off a secret underground UX revolution? Make things user-friendly behind the scenes when no one is watching."

Ben chuckled, taken aback by how relaxed he was feeling. "Sure, I'm in. We'll be like UX ninjas, quietly moving around and improving those clunky interfaces when no one is watching."

While they were working, Ben noticed that Ava's enthusiasm seemed to spread to everyone around her, but he couldn't quite tell if she was being serious or just joking around. He was more lively than usual, using hand gestures as he talked about complex ideas.

While Ava was absorbed by the screen, Ben considered, *This is nice*, as he quickly glanced at her profile. *It has been some time since I connected with someone at work in this manner*.

Ava slid a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, and the computer screen's light glistened her blue eyes. "You know, I was an independent UI designer before I started this job. Talk about a rollercoaster."

Ben's eyebrows jumped, obviously curious. "Oh really? Whoa, that seems difficult!" Ava giggled, shook her head, "You really have no idea. One month I would be drowning in projects; the next I would be living off ramen noodles. And really, don't even start me on customers who believe that 'make it pop' is really useful criticism."

"Oh, so you chose for that corporate stability?" Ben inquired.

Her chuckle took on a rather sardonic tinge. Our hoped for stability was just that. "I had no idea I would be swapping client chaos for..." she said, glancing across to Rich's empty office, "...whatever you call this management style."

Ben remarked, "I believe the fancy term is 'organized confusion.'" Her laughter returned.

"You know what's really annoying?" Ava murmured, her demeanor turning to something more somber. "Here there is just so much potential. Though the product is excellent, the user experience seems rather out of current. Simple UI changes might greatly increase user involvement; unfortunately, every time I mention investing in UX, Rich seems to be suggesting we replace the servers with trained monkeys."

Ben nodded, a comfortable sense of connection developing between them. Ava kept offering her suggestions, and he couldn't help but consider all the opportunities whirl around in his head. Her keen interest in design and apparent previous experience made Ben wonder even more why she was stuck changing Rich's diapers.

Leaning forward in his chair, he asked, "What if we combined that swipe gesture you talked about with the new navigation system? It could help to smooth out the whole user experience."

Ava's eyes shone with eagerness. "Yes! Micro-animations would be very useful for guiding consumers across the process. Though subtle, it is really powerful."

Ben was nodding in line, genuinely following the conversation's natural flow and surprised by her confidence and know-how. After some years, he at last experienced a genuine thrill about a project he was working on at his company. Ben found himself thinking, *This is what teamwork is all about*, while they continued to flip around concepts.

He slumped back in his chair after chatting with Ava, his thoughts whirling with all the choices she had recommended. Her obvious genius caught his attention, and he thought her present role underused her. He turned to face Vice President Mia Sanders' frosted glass door across to the executive offices.

Drumming his fingers on the desk, he said, "Should I say something? Suppose I am going too far? But who will if I neglect to do it?"

He opened a blank email, and the pointer stayed there blinking at him as though it were evaluating. Breathing deeply, adjusting his glasses, Ben started typing: "Dear Ms. Sanders, I hope you're doing well. I wanted to share with you something interesting regarding our recent recruit, Ava Green. Her abilities in UX are quite promising."

His fingers flew over the computer, deftly sketching Ava's background and the new ideas she had contributed. He paused here and then to find the appropriate phrase, saying how her knowledge would surely be very helpful with their upcoming projects.

As Ben approached the climax, he stopped momentarily. Should things deviate from expectations? He looked briefly at Ava, totally engross in her work, her forehead wrinkled in focus.

"Hey, is everything alright?" Ava called to get his focus.

Ben quickly clicked the email's minimize button. "Yeah, I'm just... working through a problem," he said somewhat smiling.

He went back to his screen and again checked the email. His pulse pounding, he held his finger over the submit button. *This is it, he realized*.

He inhaled deeply and pushed "Send".

Ben leaned back in his chair, delight and warmth flooding over him. For a little period he closed his eyes, savoring the minor triumph. He opened his eyes once again and saw his picture on the computer screen; was a little smile tugging at the corners of his mouth?

Toying with his spectacles, he told himself softly, "I really did it." He glanced at Ava momentarily; she was completely engross in her work, her blonde hair softly bouncing as she bent down to check something on her computer. Not only was he helping her, but also he was at last speaking out for himself, a pleasant feeling coursed across his chest.

Ava saw his look and grinned briefly. "Hi Ben, Hey there! I wanted to thank you one more for your help. You are truly fantastic!"

Blushing significantly, he said, "Sure thing! You have some rather good suggestions! The office really is blessed to have you!"

Ava's eyes lit with delight. "Aw, you're gonna make me blush. I truly value that; it means a lot coming from a fellow ninja."

She turned back to her work, and Ben's mind wandered to his most recent round of letdowns. The woman who spoke about her ex for the whole evening. The one most fascinated in her phone than in him. None of them had sparked the same sense of connection he felt with Ava.

*Her sense of humor, the way she lights up talking about design...* Ben caught himself mid-thought. *No, no. Recall the rule: never have workplace relationships.

Still, he couldn't help but sneak another look at Ava, a little grin tugging at his lips even as he attempted to focused on his task.

After hours of intense concentration, Benjamin Jennings peered at his computer screen as the lines of code blended together. He looked at the clock--6:30 PM. He sighed, moved back from his desk, then stretched to feel the tension in his shoulders.

From the cubicle across, Jeremy said, "Another late night, Ben?"

Ben answered, sardonically smiling, "You know it. But I'm finally calling it quits for today."

Ben's mind strayed to the woman he matched with on his dating app while he packed his laptop. Melissa. He had taken great enjoyment in their provocative scrabble banter following his introductory speech. Though he was shy asking her on a date, he went ahead. About this one he felt good.

He absentively stroked his somewhat soft midsection. Perhaps it was time to start getting in shape again.

"Hey Jeremy, is the late office gym still open?" Ben questioned.

Jeremy startledly turned to look up. "Yeah, it is open twenty-four hours a day. Not even aware you made use of it though."

Ben laughed. "Generally, not sure. But realized if I wanted to wauw the ladies, I should start some place."

"Good luck, man. Those tools most likely missed you." Jeremy winked then vanished behind the dividing line.

Ben threw his bag over his shoulder and started toward the exit, his usually slow walk accelerated by a fresh goal. When he signed three years ago, the gym membership had been praised as a corporate benefit; however, like the free lunches and quarterly team-building activities, it had become background noise in his daily life.

Ben found himself mentally compiling the exercises he faintly recalled from his undergraduate years as he passed row after row of vacant cubicles. Push-ups. Sit-ups. That item with the weights where you... lift them? His technical mind, so exact when coding, became shockingly nebulous when applied to exercise.

Ben couldn't help but worry, though, if returning in shape would be more difficult than troubleshooting the code he had abandoned upstairs as he entered and hit the parking garage button.

Ben sensed a different energy in the air as he approached the lift. Sure, he was a little out of shape. He was undoubtedly intelligent, industrious, and, fingers crossed, at least somewhat charming. That most certainly changed the dating scene.

As it arrived, the elevator chimed gently. Ben entered, ready to face whatever obstacles arose - in the gym and outside as well.

His shadow moved and grew beneath the fluorescent lamp above as he descended the elevator into the chilly parking garage. When most of the parking spaces were empty, the huge concrete area felt even more expansive. Combining pollution with the place smelt slightly of something like perfume or maybe air freshener.

Ben walked with a dreadful sense of inevitability directing his feet, his hair on the back of his neck standing up. He felt a little awkward in such settings always. It could have been the building's odd environment, caught between inside and outdoors, like a concrete jungle between work and house. Alternatively, perhaps it was all those trash slasher movies from which nothing great ever arose from a place like this.

"Just grab the gym clothes and head out," he told himself, his voice faintly resonating in the silence all around.

One of the above lights was flickering as if it were attempting to send a frantic Morse code message, perhaps asking for a maintenance inspection that would never come.

Like Ben, his Civic was in its usual pragmatic stance. With a tap on his key, the automobile chirped in friendly greeting as he opened it.

Benevolent under a reusable shopping bag and an emergency roadside kit was a workout bag that had seen better days. Surprised at the amount of dust coating the nylon surface, Ben pulled it out. He unzipped to discover gym shorts, a faded t-shirt, and running shoes he had presumably packed months ago following a New Year's resolution that had lasted almost two weeks.

He gave the clothing careful sniffles. Their scent was more of disuse than of perspiration; suitable for an unplanned workout?

Ben closed the trunk and his mind turned to the mounds of code he had been staring at all day. Usually energizing him, the logic puzzles felt like a drag today; his head too crowded with debugging mistakes and dating fears to discover the elegant answers he valued.

Before him the parking garage seemed to go on forever, the exit signs shining in the faint light with unearthly brightness. Ben's steps came in a consistent cadence, a human metronome indicating time in an otherwise motionless surroundings.

The elevator doors shone like a passage into another world. Ben glimpsed his reflection in the polished metal as he got closer; his posture already seemed more upright than it had been when he left his desk. Maybe the simple choice to alter his schedule started to change something inside him already.

The doors opened softly, a pneumatic sigh inviting him into the little area. Ben felt his workload starting to lift as he climbed near the gym floor. The parking garage, with its terrible emptiness and liminal quality, vanished beneath him like a fleeting dream, replaced by the mounting expectation of sweating out his mental congestion and maybe, just perhaps, starting the path to impress a possible date.

Motion-activated lights came to life as Ben pushed open the large gym door, exposing an area obviously past its best. One wall was lined with antiquated treadmills with barely blinking monitors; a set of mismatched free weights occupied a worn rubber mat in the corner.

"Well, this is... quaint," Ben said, his first excitement somewhat waning. He ran a hand through his already messy hair, spectacles sloppily falling down his nose, then looked about.

Ben's first excitement deflated like a balloon left one week ago. His mental picture of a shining modern workout center with inspirational posters and motivating background music vanished, replaced by the reality of this sad assembly of lost fitness dreams.

"Well, beggars can't be choosers," he said, setting his messenger bag on a plastic chair resembling one taken from a conference room in the 1990s. "Also free is free."

Though disappointed, Ben's analytical approach took front stage. He started planning a possible exercise schedule and mentally organizing the accessible tools. Looking at an odd weight machine, he said, "Okay, so maybe I can start with some cardio, then move on to... whatever that contraption is supposed to be."

Ben's phone buzzed in his pocket as he turned toward the dressing rooms. He dug it out and saw a warning from his dating app. Melissa, had answered.

As he read her note--which featured a joke about code that was just true enough to be humorous without seeming researched--his lips twisted into an involuntary smile.

Lost in contemplation of the new dating prospect, Ben's feet moved forward automatically. "Maybe I should change my profile picture," he said, hardly realizing his surroundings. "Is using a gym selfie overly cliched? Most likely God, I am horrible at this."

He went toward what he thought was the men's locker area, looked over his profile wording. "Software developer who spends too much time debugging code and not enough time outdoors," his bio said in agonizing honesty. "Seeking someone that enjoys nice coffee and awful puns."

Ben searched for a method for dating success--some magical mix of profile images, witty opening words, and timing that would maximize his chances of connecting. Should such a method be possible, it would most likely be worth millions.

"Maybe I should work on that instead of solving bugs," he said, opening a door and still looking over Melissa's profile.

First he smelled something: a faint floral perfume that felt especially inappropriate in what ought to be a men's bathroom. Ben's intellect still half engaged with Melissa's remarkable list of hiking achievements while his nose furrowed slightly in uncertainty.

"I wonder if there's an optimal response time," he asked aloud at last turning from his phone. " Too slow seems uninterested; too quick seems desperate..."

His voice faded as his surrounds started to register. With better lighting and... was that a basket of complementary hair items on a shelf? The locker room before him was cleaner than he expected. Though his confused mind couldn't find exactly what, something about the space looked clearly wrong.