Upon Return - - -

[Marc Dominique Delabarre]

It was starting to become a trend now. Whenever there was a computer problem on the professors own systems they were calling Marc. Not that he minded, though. For Marc, fixing computers was more of a hobby than an actual job and at least once he had worked his magic on the systems they were usually better than before and wiped clean of viruses and other nasty bugs that clogged up the network over time. He was always baffled by the amount of professors at the university who were entirely incapable of simply running a virus scan once a week or so on their laptops. Whenever they came to him with the blank screen and an expression to match he knew what the problem was and it was with a sigh and a repetitive lecture that he fixed the darn thing and sent them back on their merry way.

When his phone went off at the end of the lecture, he had expected it to be Bella to arrange a lunch date or something of the sort, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Bridget’s number flashing up at him and not that of his girlfriend. He didn’t spend all that much time with the bilingual professor, but it was nice to be able to talk fluently in his native tongue to someone who wasn’t a six year old boy. Laurence’s sudden appearance in Marc’s life had kept him busier than ever too, but that was more of a blessing than a curse. His dark eyes scanned the text message and a smirk twitched at his lips. More computer problems. At least with Bridget he knew that it was highly unlikely to be a virus and probably something more sinister lurking in the hardware of her computer. He quickly concluded his lecture and waited around to answer a few questions from his more enthusiastic students before packing away his own laptop and notes.

Once he was out of the hall and the new class was slowly filtering in, he made his way towards the offices. He had a few hours before he had to teach his next class and miraculously he also was on top of his paperwork and grading, so he made a quick turn left when he usually went right and found his way to Bridget’s office with ease. He knew she would want her computer back up and running as soon as possible, so there was no time like the presence to pop in and help a friend in need! He knocked on the door and leaned slightly closer to the wood, a lopsided smile on his face. “Technical support ‘ere to save zee day.”

[/color] He called, joking with her unlike he would do with some of the other professors there. Hell, there were a few who struggled to understand him and his accent was nowhere near as thick as it was back in London! There really was no winning at times.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee!
WORDS! 532!
OUTFIT! Smart Guy
LYRICS! Annan Water - - - The Decemberists
NOTES! <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

This was not Bridget’s day. First, she nearly got run over taking her dogs for a walk, then when she got home, the building’s manager caught her in the lobby to inform her the hot water would be out until well into the evening, so she had to have a cold shower. But she took it all in stride and baked cupcakes from her mother’s special recipe for Bee’s favourite red velvet cupcakes. Baking always calmed her down and in that aspect she was very much like her mother; of course her mother was also a professional, so if it were possible she would bake twenty-four seven. Bee packed up the treats in a container, made sure there was food and water in the dishes then headed down to her car.

She was stuck in traffic, but the young professor just turned up the music. When she finally found herself in her office, she already had a couple students’ waiting on her. Bee apologized as she unlocked the door, and let them in. She knew why they were there, a paired assignment, probably gone wrong but she would help deal with it. It took them nearly an hour but the duo left happy with cupcakes. Bridget saw another handful of students before they were all gone and she could get down to business and grading papers. The only problem? Her computer wouldn’t work. She got through the password and onto the main page but whatever she’d done to it, it wouldn’t work.

She tried everything she could think of to get it to work without having to call someone for help. But she was lost. Sighing, Bridget dug out her phone and raced through the contacts. There was one name on the list that she knew without a doubt could fix any problem she had with the stupid electronic device. Finding the number she was looking for, Bee sent a quick message that she knew Marc would understand. She hated to bother him, and hoped he wasn’t in a class or lecturing and she was interrupting. It was almost like fate when the two professors had been introduced. Bridget was missing speaking her mother’s tongue in New York. It was almost always French she and her parents spoke when they were in the comfort of their own home and Bee often found herself slipping into French with Koda around, but he didn’t understand the words coming from her mouth. Oh, he thought it was cute, but when she really needed the sifter and he just smiled and shook his head, she got a little frustrated.

With Marc she could slip seamlessly into French and he actually preferred it. Giving up on the computer, Bee picked up one of the typed assignments and checked the genre; absolutely no horrors for her while she was alone. A heart attack was something she really didn’t need at twenty-six. She had hardly started when a knock sounded on the door and a familiar French accent followed it. Bridget let out a sigh of relief, untangled herself from the pretzel she’d twisted herself into to work and raced around her desk for the door. She swung it open, happy to see him. “Marc! Thank god! I tried everything I could think of and nothing. Please fix it!” she said, shutting the door behind him and pointing at the overpriced, oversized paperweight her laptop currently was.

Tags|| Marc!
Words || 570
Clothes|| Frazzled Prof.
Music|| Bad Day by Daniel Powter
Notes| <3 <3 <3

[Marc Dominique Delabarre]

It was a good job that Marc had worked for a number of years in London as an ICT technician for a large company; otherwise he might not be so qualified to fix the computers. It had been a hobby of his since childhood but it was one thing to have something as a hobby and be asked to do it professionally. His degree might have been enough to secure him a teaching position, but that really only stated that he could handle various kinds of software and use all types of coding. Dismantling and rebuilding a computer was not exactly something he had been tested on back in his days in France when he was at college. It was however what he had done for a living in London and most problems he could have solved within a few sort hours, so long as he didn’t have other classes to teach.

He chuckled at Bridget’s distress and dropped his bag by the door, folding his jacket over the top of it before looking at where her laptop sat. The Frenchman picked it up and looked it over for any external damage or problems before glancing back at Bridget. “Vhat eez zee problem?”

[/color] He asked, just needing a vague answer from her to try and start looking for what the problem might be. He sat on the floor, crossing his legs and reaching out to unzip his bag, pulling out the small pencil case of screwdrivers and other small tools that he might need to get Bridget’s laptop working again.

There wasn’t a lot he could do right away until she had answered a few seemingly obvious questions. It often infuriated people, but it really did make the job a lot easier and save him from having to check every little think over on the laptop. He was fairly certain that Bridget would want it up and running as quickly as possible and for him to look through everything would take longer than he or she would have liked to spare on the darn contraption. “So, ‘ow 'as life been, despite zee broken laptop?”[/color] He asked, smirking up at the English Literature professor as he slipped his glasses from his pocket and placed them on the bridge of his nose, pushing them into place with his finger. He tried the well-known methods on her laptop first, mainly just to see exactly what was and wasn’t happening on the screen, though the lack of response from the computer did not bode well and he frowned at the screen, a sneaky feeling growing over him as some of the more common problems floated into his thoughts. None of it looked all too good and he hoped Bee didn’t need anything from this urgently, though he was thinking of a worst case scenario right now. There were still a few tricks he could try before having to go down the road of dismantlement and replacement.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee!
WORDS! 527!
OUTFIT! Smart Guy
LYRICS! Annan Water - - - The Decemberists
NOTES! <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridge hated bothering Marc with her computer problems. There was a tech team for that, but she’d noticed the last time she’d brought her laptop to them, they hadn’t done anything more than she had; which was when she asked Marc to help her out and see what she couldn’t. She wasn’t so technically oriented, but she could run checks. Knowing her, whatever was wrong with her computer was something stupid and silly; something she hadn’t even thought about. Half the time she wished she would have just followed in her mother’s footsteps and helped out in her mother’s bakery. “Um, it stopped working?” she answered sheepishly. Sighing she lifted her hands just to let them fall back down again. “Honnêtement, Marc, je ne sais pas,” she said, shaking her head.

English was her thing, ironically, and baking when the mood struck. And she was just stressed enough to want to bake all new red velvets. She wasn’t even aware she’d slipped to French, answering his question. Growing up, French was what was spoken in her house, outside the house and when they had guests who didn’t understand, they spoke English. Switching between the two languages was like breathing now; she didn’t even realize she was switching it up. And actually had to be reminded a couple times while teaching! Frustrated, Bee practically stomped over to her desk and Marc, and plucked a cupcake from the container, carefully peeling the paper away before ripping off a piece.

Bridget grinned after swallowing the bite of cupcake. “C’est magnifique, à part à partir d'aujourd'hui. Parfois, je déteste vraiment cette ville. C'est tout le trafic terrible,” she said, rolling her eyes. She was from Vegas. New York traffic was a walk in the park compared to the strip. “Petit gâteau?” she asked, waving the one she already had in her hand. “Homemade,” she added, laughing at herself as soon as she realized she had switched it up once again. It was almost like her brain wasn’t quite sure which language it wanted to use! Of course, being stressed about getting work done and the day she was having, switching between the two wasn’t something to get worked up over. And her friend understood both just as well as she did so it wasn’t like she was talking to someone clueless. She sighed, taking another bite of her cupcake.

Tags|| Marc!
Words || 395
Clothes|| Frazzled Prof.
Music|| Bad Day by Daniel Powter
Notes| <3 <3 <3

[Marc Dominique Delabarre]

Marc didn’t mind when people asked him for help, whether it was computer orientated or otherwise. He was a nice guy with a big heart and nothing put a smile on his face more than helping a friend in need; the fact that he often got to tinker with computers and technology was just another added bonus to his life. He got to play around with bits at home too, but Bella seemed to get annoyed if she came home from wherever and found Marc once again upgrading her laptop or one of the several gaming systems that they now had. It was a bit messy, but Marc knew what he was doing and left everything looking as though he hadn’t even laid a hand on it. Chuckling, the Frenchman shook his head and then looked back at the laptop again. It wasn’t the first time someone didn’t know what had gone wrong with their technology and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time Marc found himself playing the guessing game with something that couldn’t obviously say ‘hot’ or ‘cold’ whenever he tried something.

His favourite thing about hanging out with Bridget was that she spoke his native language. Not many people did, at least he hadn’t met many and it was nice to be able to slip into the old tongue from time to time. He spoke French with Laurence, but they were trying to teach him English now and so Marc found himself mixing the two together as the youngster slowly began to come to grips with the language he would need to survive life in New York. Sure, they could still have their French conversations when they had the chance, but Marc knew that he needed to learn English more than indulge his father’s homesickness. Bella spoke a bit, but she wasn’t quite as experienced in the language to understand it fully if Marc spoke at his usual speed when he wasn’t stumbling over his own English.

He tipped the laptop upside down in his hands and took about removing the battery. Selecting the appropriate screwdriver, he began to carefully prise the back off the device, placing the screws into a small little pile by his bag. “Je sais ce que tu veux dire, parfois je manque le calme feutré d'Arles.”

[/color] He said with a small smile, his dark eyes flicking up for a moment before glancing back down at the now exposed insides of Bridget’s laptop. Looking up again to see the cake in her hand he nodded, quickly realising that lunch would probably be a late one today. “Oui s'il vous plaît.”[/color] He said, before looking at the laptop again, his skilled fingers still dismantling it to check the interior components weren’t damaged at all. “Je pense que quelque chose a se détacher de retour ici. Avez-vous laissé tomber récemment?”[/color] He asked, still searching for the needle in the haystack. The French rolled from his tongue without him even thinking twice. It was like he couldn’t control it once it had started now.
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• • •

TAGGED! Bee!
WORDS! 544!
OUTFIT! Smart Guy
LYRICS! Annan Water - - - The Decemberists
NOTES! <3

[Bridget Cameron Delaynee]

Bridget’s entire life could be summed up on that laptop; or at least close to it. Everything was on the electronic device and a half dozen or so flash drives. Marc kept reminding her to back everything up and now she had a collection. There was a flash drive for everything just in case her laptop sang its swan song and she was forced to fork out the cash for a new one. Normally, she could work out the kinks herself, defrag or whatever it was called and run a simple anti-virus. But this she couldn’t fix and on top of the day she’d been having, she hadn’t been all that willing to chance it in the first place. Any other day, she would have fiddled around with it a bit first before calling Marc and begging him to stop by.

“Au moins ce trafic est un jeu d'enfant comparé à Las Vegas,” she said, shaking her head and laughing, finally relaxing a bit. Smiling, Bridget selected a cupcake at random from the container and set it on the desk just out of the way of Marc and her laptop. She didn’t want to interrupt him while he was doing his thing. “Pour tu,” she said, setting the container down again and replacing it with her cell phone to check after she’d heard the telltale tone informing her she had a text message. Being able to speak French without having to worry was a blessing. Bridget had been lucky to find a friend in Marc. She’d been frustrated that day, too, running on in French to herself. She hadn’t meant to be talking to herself, but she’d found that doing so was sometimes the best way to work through a conundrum. And at least now she wouldn’t get rusty between the nearly daily conversations with at least one parent.

“Je n'ai pas, mais je l'ai trouvé sur le plancher à l'étude lorsque je me suis réveillé le lendemain matin. Catherine aurait pu se leva et poussa hors de la table côté,” she told him. But that had been a couple days before and it had been working fine up until that morning. “Mais ce n'était il ya quelques jours maintenant, je suppose,” she added, feeling like that information would be useful in his search for the problem. “Comment sont Laurence et Bella? Est-ce que les Anglais viennent le long?” she asked, concerned for the young boy. She didn’t know from experience but she assumed what he’d been through and still going through was a traumatic mess. “Vous me direz si vous avez besoin d'aide du tout? Je suis assez bon avec les enfants,” she said smiling before biting into the cupcake, relishing the wonderful taste.

Tags|| Marc!
Words || 455
Clothes|| Frazzled Prof.
Music|| Bad Day by Daniel Powter
Notes| <3 <3 <3