Rating: White Cortina
Word Count: 330
A/N: No warnings. It struck me some time ago that even Sam’s “modern day” is now five years in the past. Many of the things we take for granted are after Sam’s time.
Gene stood in the doorway and watched Sam type. Always the bundle of nerves, even retired and grey he gave off enough energy to keep them both going another twenty years. Gene cleared his throat and Sam looked round.
“Oh, is it that time already? You know, you could get your own computer - we don’t have to keep taking turns. Let me just save this and I’ll... ” He turned back to face the screen, already typing busily.
Gene smiled. Still talking; still trying to run everything. Still treating Gene like a creature from the dark ages.
Time to put him right.
“Thought I’d get meself a Twitter account,” he announced casually.
“Twitter? What the bloody hell’s Twitter?” Sam turned round in surprise.
Gene laughed, and punched the air. Gently - a man of his years had to be careful, after all.
“Thought this was your era, Sam. Modern times? ‘Now we’re back to where I remember?’ ”
If he was shocked at the bleakness in Sam’s eyes, he hid it swiftly, lifting his mug as he waited for Sam to reply.
“But that’s just it, Gene. The bit I remembered - it only lasted six months. And now I’m lost again. All this - stuff - I don’t remember it. It wasn’t here before.”
“Come here, you daft bugger.” Crossing the study in two steps Gene took hold of Sam’s shirt and stared fiercely into his eyes.
“It’s here now. And so are we. So we learn together.”
Sam looked lost for a moment and then smiled, his lips quirking as he turned back to the keyboard.
“Think I’ll sign up too then.”
Gene watched as Sam googled busily, pausing to take in the information as efficiently as ever, rattling the keys as he rapidly followed link after link. Content that he’d brought Sam through another daily angst, he bent over Sam’s shoulder and spoke into his ear.
“Betcha I can get more followers than you.”
Sam froze for a moment then straightened up in his seat.
~ ~ ~