Work Text:
Gillian sat in an overstuffed chair in an otherwise empty conference room tapping a fingernail against one of her teeth. She had gone into the room to find a quiet place to work on a project but ended up doing more thinking than coding. It might not have been the best of ideas to isolate herself. She was still new, and there were office politics to navigate. She knew the importance of balancing proper social integration with her occasional need to shut out the rest of the world to get her work done. But most of her coworkers understood that, too, especially the other members of her immediate team.
She liked the job. The pay was decent, she liked the prestige of the company and the project, and she felt invested. Her sister was a filmmaker who had made her most successful film using an earlier incarnation the very software Gillian was now a part of upgrading (granted, said film was a documentary about their family that had most of their relatives refusing to talk to her sister, especially after it hit the festival circuit, got good press, won some awards, and put their dirty laundry out in art houses all over the country. But whatever). Her sister had some good feedback that Gillian hoped she'd be able to pass along.
Gillian had a feel for the place and mostly felt she was going to fit in there. But she was also sure there was something they weren't telling her.
As if on cue, two men shuffled into the conference room quickly throwing the door shut behind them. They didn't seem to notice Gillian as they stood by the door, hunched into each other in intent conversation.
"There's a disease going around in QA right now. Stay away from those guys."
"Fuck that. Look at my arm."
One of the guys--Frank, she thought his name was--held up his left arm to show the other guy--Phil?--what looked like a nasty... was that a bite? on his forearm
"Dude," Phil said. "You need to get that looked at."
"I still can't believe that happened," Frank said.
"I still can't believe you did that," Phil said.
"Well, what did you expect me to do?" Frank asked. "How do you tempt a yak?"
"Um," Phil said, "I don't?"
"Well someone had to do something."
"Look," Phil said, "you need to learn to leave well enough alone. The Yak is a delightful creature...rather like a visit with a bovine Confucious."
"Easy for you to say," Frank replied grumpily. "He didn't bite you. If this thing starts to fester, I'm calling HR. Hell, he's probably the one who infected QA in the first place..."
"Shut up," Phil said. "Bruce will hear you."
"No he won't. He's way down the hall."
"Well, you know Bruce doesn't so much hear you as he just knows stuff. I think he's kind of telekinetic. Telepathic? Something."
"Okay, who's Bruce?" Gillian asked.
Both men squeaked.
"Shit," Phil said.
Frank held up his arm and said, "This is not a yak bite."
Gillian blinked twice then cocked her head. She was always overhearing strange conversations, lately--strange even for her field. They all seemed to involve someone named Bruce, and it was starting to weird her out. It felt like she was working in a sitcom. One of those edgy workplace sitcoms with geek characters and a sly awareness of life working in IT fields. Somehow, she'd gotten the role of the straight man, and it bothered her, not just because she was neither straight nor a man (and she hated terms like that even though that wasn't what it meant), but also because she was a geek herself. She wasn't the clueless middle manager giving grief about reports or the, well, clueless middle manager who'd stumbled into a job in a department she knew nothing about. No. She was one of them, damn it. She'd earned her place. And she'd definitely earned the right to know who this Bruce was.
She had the feeling Bruce was someone important, with a lot influence, which worried her because she was pretty sure she'd met all of the team leaders and managers and she didn't recall a Bruce.
"Seriously, guys," Gillian said, "who is this Bruce? I hear people talking about him all the time until they realize I'm listening and then they shut up. What's going on?"
"You're Gillian, right?" Phil asked. "You're new?"
"Newish," Gillian said. "I've been here a few weeks."
Phil said, "She'll find out soon," before Frank shushed him.
"Find out what?" Gillian asked, but they ignored her and instead turned towards each other to have what seemed like an involved conversation with only the use of their eyebrows.
Finally, Phil turned back to Gillian and said, "It's time for you to meet Bruce."
Frank shook his head and said, "Look, forget it. I'm out. I've had enough for one day," before turning the handle to leave the conference room.
Phil shrugged at Frank's back, then beckoned for Gillian to follow him. Gillian started to pack up her laptop, but Phil said, "Leave that there. It'll be fine, and you won't need it where we're going."
"Where are we going?" Gillian asked, getting out of her chair.
"I'm taking you to see Bruce," Phil said.
"Look, I don't need to meet the guy--I mean I don't want to interrupt if he's busy or something. I just want to know who he is since everyone else seems to know. Is he a manager or something?"
Phil shook his head and said, "No one can just tell you about Bruce--you have to see him for yourself."
Gillian frowned and said, "Ooooookay," but she still followed Phil to a door at the other end of the hall.
Phil knocked.
A sonorous voice said, "Yes?"
"It's Phil, Bruce. I've brought Gillian to meet you."
"Enter," the voice said, and Phil turned the knob and held the door open for her.
She stepped into a sizable office. It was plainly but comfortably furnished, and standing behind the desk was what looked to be a rather small yak. Small for a yak, at least, if Gillian correctly recalled her nature channel-gained information. About Phil's size, actually.
She looked at Phil. She realized her jaw was hanging open, but she couldn't seem to do anything about it.
"You are Gillian," the yak said. "I am pleased to meet you. Your credentials are impressive, and I've heard your work so far has been exemplary."
Gillian said, "You talk."
"What, you were expecting 'Moo' or something?" the yak asked. And who knew yaks could roll their eyes?
"To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything," Gillian said. "I just wanted to know who Bruce is."
Gillian now felt like maybe she was on one of those hidden camera shows. Were they still in vogue? How did they get anyone to sign releases for that shit anyway?
"You can call me Bruce the Wonder Yak," the yak--Bruce--said.
"Sure," Gillian said. "Why not?" And also: "You're a yak."
Bruce sighed.
Phil jumped in with, "He's not really a yak. That's just how he appears to us."
"Okay," Gillian said.
"I am an interdimensional traveller," Bruce said. "I appear to you as a yak for reasons your brain is not equipped to understand. I am visiting from another reality to spend time writing code. It's like magic, but it doesn't work as well. But I find that it pleases me aesthetically. I'm highly in favor of putting in code to do stuff, you see."
"Sure," Gillian said. "Why not?"
"Why not indeed," Bruce said, sniffing disdainfully. "Well, it was lovely to meet you, Gillian, but I would like to return to my coding. I am only authorized to stay in your dimension for a limited time, and I wish to make the most of it."
"By coding?" Gillian asked.
"Yes," Bruce replied.
Phil ushered Gillian out of the office and led her back to the conference room. She sat back in the padded chair and said, "Bruce is a talking yak."
"Yeah," Phil said. "Writes really elegant code, too. He's not kidding when he says he loves this stuff, so hey. Why not have him around?"
"And the bite thing?"
"Well, I like him, but I have to admit that he's kind of moody. And a little imperious? Like, that whole, 'your brain is not equipped to understand,' blah blah blah. I'm pretty sure that's bullshit and he just made a mistake in his appearance module thingy. He can be jerk sometimes. Some people want to contact HR about it, but what would we tell them? The yak is creating a hostile work environment?"
"Yeah, I can see that being a problem," Gillian said as she decided she was going to have a cocktail with her lunch.
"You should get Tonya to show you the Bruce-inspired easter egg thing she's working on," Phil said. "It's hilarious."