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Bilbo isn’t petty. He’s super petty. And while, yes, he probably should be working on that, it’s very difficult when the main cause of his pettiness (tall, dark, handsome and infuriating) is two tables away, using the one book he needs to finish his research project to prop up his ancient-looking laptop and is refusing to give it back no matter how many angry balled-up notes Bilbo hurls at his stupidly good-looking head.
Piece of crap computer. The battery on it probably doesn’t even work anymore, Bilbo muses, noting how the tired-looking machine is plugged into a socket beneath the library desk.
It’s then that Bilbo’s struck with his brilliantly evil revenge plan.
As casually as he can, he stands up and makes his way over to the shelves behind the book-hogger, making sure to catch the laptop’s power cable with his foot as he does. His efforts are rewarded a few seconds later when he hears the unmistakable pop of a suddenly-dead screen and what can only be described as a growl of frustration.
“The fuck did you do that for?” says the book-hogger, suddenly springing to his feet. Bilbo hasn’t fully appreciated how tall the man is (and how short he is in comparison) until now.
“Well I hardly did it on purpose, did I?” Bilbo retorts, hoping that if he feigns bravado, it will eventually catch up with him. “I just have big feet.”
“Yeah well your ‘big feet’ just cost me hours of work on my thesis!” yells the man and a librarian nearby shushes him.
“Well why the fuck weren’t you hitting save?” Bilbo hisses back. “It’s hardly my fault if you’re the knobhead who’s not making sure his work is backed up.”
The book-hogger glares murderously at Bilbo and Bilbo can’t help but gulp. Taking a steadying breath, he glances at the dead computer.
“Okay, look, there should be an autosave file on the hard drive. Boot up your computer again, load your word processor, open the backup files and there shouldn’t be any problems.”
“For your sake, you’d better be right,” says the book-hogger, slumping back into his seat and doing as Bilbo suggested. A nearby notebook catches Bilbo’s eye and he accidentally learns the man’s name.
Thorin Oakenshield. It suits him.
Thorin opens the word processor while Bilbo silently offers up a prayer to the gods of technology that his thesis will still be intact. He’d only meant to slightly inconvenience the prick, not sabotage his doctorate. If this doesn’t work, Bilbo doesn’t know what he’ll do.
“Fuck! It says that the files are corrupted,” growls Thorin and Bilbo feels his stomach plummet. “I could actually murder you, you know that?”
Bilbo doesn’t doubt that he could.
“Shit,” he says. “Well, when was the last time you updated your antivirus software?”
“My what?”
“Oh lord,” says Bilbo, feeling the outlines of a stress headache starting. “Okay, wait here, I’m going to get Professor Grey.”
“The Mythology professor?” asks Thorin. “How’s he going to help?”
“He’s kind of a wizard when it comes to technology,” says Bilbo, jogging backwards towards the library doors. “If anyone can fix this he can. Just… don’t touch anything until I’m back.”
Thorin gives a noncommittal grunt and Bilbo sprints off to the professor’s nearby cottage. Professor Grey (or Gandalf, as Bilbo’s known him since his childhood) is thankfully in and the two of them are back in the library less than six minutes later.
“Ah, Mr Oakenshield, Bilbo here tells me that you’re in a spot of bother with your computer,” says the old professor, looking far too amused with the situation than anyone had any right to be.
Thorin stares at Bilbo with a small frown and Bilbo wonders if that’s because he’s just learned his name.
Yes, I know it’s weird, thinks Bilbo to himself. And you’re hardly one to talk anyway, Thorin.
“Yeah,” says Thorin, turning back to Gandalf. “Clown Feet over here yanked the power cable out of my computer and now I can’t access my autosaved files. It says they’re corrupted”
“It was an accident,” adds Bilbo, though he can tell by the amused twinkle in the professor’s eye that he sees right through the fib.
“Well, if that’s all, it doesn’t seem that this will take too long to fix,” smiles Gandalf reassuringly and immediately sets to work on Thorin’s ancient machine.
Bilbo can feel Thorin’s eyes on him while he watches Gandalf work, and tries his best not to feel too pleased about it. He is, after all, still mad at the prick. It wouldn’t do to go admitting to himself that he liked the attention. He chances a glance at Thorin to make sure that he’s not just imagining things and feels an involuntary swoop of butterflies when he catches the other man snapping his head back to watch Gandalf’s progress with his computer, a faint pink creeping from his beard and colouring his cheeks.
Very interesting, thinks Bilbo, unable now to stop the smile (and blush) spreading across his own face.
Gandalf works quickly and expertly, pausing only to question Thorin about his downloading habits or to type in a password, and within minutes, Thorin’s thesis is back to its former glory.
“Oh my god, thank you,” breathes Thorin, immediately hitting the save button. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t got it back.”
“Nonsense, it was no trouble at all,” says Gandalf, getting up from the desk. “Just keep hitting save and make sure your antivirus software is up to date. The Smaug virus I just had to take off of your computer can be really dangerous if you don’t get to it in time.”
“Thanks, Gandalf,” smiles Bilbo. “You really saved my arse.”
The professor smirks and leans close to Bilbo to whisper conspiratorially in his ear.
“Or did I?”
Gandalf’s almost out of the library by the time Bilbo catches his meaning and not for the first time, Bilbo finds himself wondering if the old man is perhaps not too invested in his love life.
“Er…” starts Thorin and Bilbo turns to face him. He suddenly looks awkward and bashful and despite himself, Bilbo finds it completely endearing. “I guess I should thank you. If you hadn’t pulled the cable out of my computer I might not have found out about the virus until it was too late.”
“Don’t thank me too much,” says Bilbo sheepishly. “It definitely wasn’t an accident.”
“Revenge for holding your book hostage?” Thorin smiles and Bilbo nods bashfully. “Well, I was only doing that because I… well now it’s awkward, you see? I see you in the library from time to time and I wasn’t sure how to go about, well… this, and I thought if I had your book you’d eventually come over and ask for it and then I could… I dunno, ask you out or whatever. But it, er, hasn’t gone according to plan.”
Bilbo doesn’t know what to say to this, mostly because this is a completely foreign scenario. He’s not someone that usually has hot strangers tongue-tied like this.
“Would you?” asks Thorin and when Bilbo stares at him, completely speechless, he continues. “Like to go out sometime, I mean. I’m not very good at the whole dating thing, but I know there are a few nice restaurants around here somewhere. But it’s okay if you’re not interested or… straight or whatever. No hard feelings.”
“Bree,” Bilbo eventually breathes out. “Bree’s a really nice one. Maybe Friday night at seven?”
“Yeah,” says Thorin, his face suddenly splitting into a heart-stopping grin. “Yeah, that sounds great. Er, can I get your… I mean, I’d like to call you.”
Bilbo’s heart races as he scribbles down his number and gets a torn bit of paper with Thorin’s on it in return, unable to believe that this is his life all of a sudden.
Sure Bilbo’s petty. But every once in a while, it pays off.