Frank had come to the conclusion that he was very good at certain things in his life. He was good at what he did, and he was more than happy to admit that fact. The only few things he wasn't very good at though, had all ended up happening on Monday morning. The morning when he should have been completely 'on the ball' with his head screwed on. But no; it was like his head had been screwed on like a haphazard coffee jar in a busy office. He might as well have metaphorically fallen out of the wrong side of the bed onto his ass.

Today was a new week, a new day, a whole new career path for him, and it hadn't gone well from the moment that his alarm went off. The horrendously loud buzzer had persistently slammed against his eardrum and wake him with a start. The amazing dream was lost almost instantly as the shock of the alarm forced him back into reality. His hand shot out from under the duvet as he slapped down on the snooze button atop the wicked device that had disturbed him. Five more minutes, Frank thought as the room fell silent. A smile curled on his lips while he snuggled back under the warm blankets. Frank sighed, at that moment he was still half-asleep and barely worried at all about why he had set his alarm so early. It was six in the morning and he was so content and uncaring about anything. He was so comfy and warm that nothing else mattered at all.

"Frank, you up?"

The sound of his name being called out to him had Frank groan and turn, stuffing his face into the pillow. Of course, Ryan was awake and up at six in the morning. Ryan was clearly calling to make sure that Frank hadn't set the alarm off to go back to sleep. The early bird was up and far too energetic at this time of the morning. Ryan could spring out of bed with a smile on his face and a bounce in his step while Frank needed at least half an hour for his brain to kick in and realize that he was actually awake.

"Frank, you don't want to be late on your first day, honey-bun," Ryan called out in sing-song and Frank groaned unhappily, realizing that the events of yesterday were real; not a dream. His mind began to churn and start-up like an ancient computer, booting up with a slow-moving progress bar behind his eyelids. Frank almost expected the old 'Windows' sound to play through his skull, but it didn't and he immediately remembered what had occurred. Frank took in a long inhale of the chilly morning air and sat up in the bed, keeping himself up on his jelly-like arms. He grimaced at the taste in his mouth and mussed a hand through his hair.

"I'm up, Ry!" Frank called back, his voice cracking near the end as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and yawned unabashedly, loudly. Now that Frank was up and awake, the ominous feeling was setting in his stomach. Like the first day of a new school, being the new kid.

"You want some breakfast, sweetheart?" Ryan called up and Frank winced, his lips pursing and pulling down at the idea of food. He could picture Ryan downstairs in the kitchen, probably smiling with excitement and cooking something special for Frank for his first day. Frank could smell that Ryan had been cooking and it smelled somewhat like pancakes. It was Frank's favorite and it was probably doused in syrup and strawberries. The idea of the food had Frank turning his nose up. He could never eat now, he was way too nervous.

"I'm good for now," Frank called back as he threw the covers off of him and swung his legs off of the bed. He then grimaced when he realized that if Ryan had made him breakfast already, his feelings would be hurt. He backtracked, "If you're making something, I'll take it with me!"

"Okay," Ryan called back, sounding relieved. Frank curled his toes into the soft beige carpet and ran his hands through his hair again. He knew that he could not fuck up on his first day, especially seeing as how he had already slipped up before in front of his new boss. And yet, he still offered Frank the job. The Congressman believed in him. Frank wanted to believe in himself but his nerves were doing a number in his self-esteem. He sighed as he picked himself up and headed into the bathroom to shower.

He stood under the stream of hot water and closed his eyes, tempted to go back to sleep in the warmth of the water. He scowled and opened his eyes, grabbing the body wash and his sponge. He scrubbed himself clean and decided that this scrubbing would also be symbolic. He visualized himself scrubbing off the foul mood that wanted to settle over him. He didn't want to be nervous or annoyed as to why he had to take this new job. He wanted to think of it as a bright new opportunity that he could flourish in and show his full potential.

He told himself to expect bumps in the road today and to accept it. He wrapped a towel around his waist and walked out into the bedroom. He didn't expect the first bump to bitch-slap him so soon. His confidence wavered ever so slightly as he stared into his closet at his clothing, a small 'ah fuck' leaving his lips as he put his hands on his hips. He could feel the water dripping from his hair and usually, he would dry it but right now it was low on his list of worries as he scowled at his clothing. It wasn't even seven in the morning yet and he was on the verge of full-on panic.

He realized that he had absolutely no idea about how he was supposed to dress for his job. He had plenty of clothing and he knew it. He had an abundance thanks to his boyfriend that loved to go shopping. But his job had a casual aspect to it thanks to the fact that all Frank had to do was sit at a desk and write- Occasionally go out to interview people. He could usually get away with sneakers and skinny jeans with a button-up at the paper. This job was probably not as blasé about the dress code. This was a serious job with a serious boss and Gerard hadn't told him what he should wear.

Frank couldn't remember if Way had told him what the dress code was or if there was some sort of uniform. Had he mentioned it? Frank was ninety-nine percent sure that he hadn't, but there was the one percent of his head that was uneasy. Frank continued to search and dig through his clothing, scratching for anything that was even remotely suitable for his first day. He couldn't find anything. Ryan had entered the bedroom to find Frank standing by the wardrobe, in one hand he held a shirt, looking at it like he was trying to decode it and in the other hand he held onto a pair of black jeans.

"You okay over there?" Ryan chuckled as he walked over to Frank's bedside table, setting his coffee down for him before he perched himself on the bed. He watched Frank curiously, narrowly missing the jeans when Frank threw them onto the bed as he cursed under his breath.

"More than okay." Frank lied. He wanted to have this completely under control. Internally he was freaking out because he didn't know what to wear. Jeans with the knees all scuffed up? No, not a good thing to wear. Frank threw them onto the bed along with the other pair of jeans he had discarded moments before. Ryan could clearly see that Frank wasn't okay, but he knew that he couldn't step in and help because Frank was stubborn.

"Okay." Ryan nodded, getting up from the bed because as much as he knew that he could watch Frank rummaging through the wardrobe for God knows how long, he too had to get ready for work. He had to be somewhere and he had offered to drop Frank off on his first day. He went about his usual routine, getting ready for work while Frank continued to silently panic, looking through everything he owned. If only it was simple. If only Frank could pick something out as easily as Ryan had just done. He was already pulling on his mustard-yellow slacks when Frank looked over his shoulder to check what Ryan was doing. That made Frank groan, getting more and more worked up until he knew that he had to say something. He knew that if he kept quiet then he wasn't going to get anywhere, "You sure you're okay?"

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Frank finally said. His voice was full of panic and sheer fear. He was so worried. What he wore today was going to make up break him. He wanted Way to look at him and believe that he made the right choice by hiring him, "Ry, I have nothing to wear today."

"I'm sure you have something to wear," Ryan said encouragingly, coming over to look in the wardrobe.

"Yes," Frank snorted, "I'm sure a 'Dead Kennedy's' shirt is going to be the perfect thing for me to wear. My boss will be so impressed with me..."

"Don't get sarcastic with me, you fucking toad," Ryan told him as he took hold of the t-shirt that Frank had pulled out to make a point. It was tossed to the side like every other item of clothing that had been pulled out, "What have you got?"

"I don't know," Frank sighed, taking a step back to sit on the bed while he watched Ryan start to sort through the many hangers that were still in place in the wardrobe, "You know what my old dress-code was like, dude."

"It won't be the same in your new job, that's for sure," Ryan commented. He found black trousers, but they were jeans and Ryan really couldn't understand why Frank felt the need to make nearly every pair of jeans he owned have holes in the knees. Ryan just screwed up his nose and put the jeans back in place, "You're going to be working in an office. You're going to be an assistant to a politician. You need to be dressed properly all the time."

"So, no casual?"

"You wish," Ryan smirked, looking over his shoulder, "It's going to be completely formalwear and... How do you not own anything remotely normal?"

"Because I used to have a cushy job that meant I could wear whatever I wanted." Frank smiled at Ryan, earning himself an eye roll.

"But didn't you have a suit or something?" Ryan asked. He turned to face Frank, confused, folding his arms across his bare chest, "What happened to the suit you wore when my parents hired you? The black one that was a little big on you. It had the... The wax mark on the ass from the time you sat on a candle at Kevin's party, remember?"

Frank snickered under his breath at the memory of falling ass-first into a birthday cake thanks to half a dozen glasses of chardonnay and a well-timed Mambo No. 5. But he genuinely had no idea unless the suit's disappearance had anything to do with the fact that Ryan liked to have a clear out of all his clothes so he could then go out and buy more. If it had gotten caught up in all of Ryan's old clothes then there was no way that it was even in the house anymore. That suit was long gone.

"You looked great in that suit," Ryan commented, "Why don't you seem to have it anymore?"

"You sure you didn't accidentally get rid of it when you had your routine clearout?"

"Why would I get rid of a perfectly decent suit? Ass-wax aside, of course." Ryan frowned. Frank knew how Ryan dressed and if there had been any doubt in Ryan's mind or he had completely forgotten who owned the suit in question, he would have gotten rid of it. Ryan was not one for black suits. He had to dress formally for work, but his choice in clothing was a lot more colorful.

"Well, I'm fucked," Frank declared, flopping onto the bed. He covered his face with his hands, "It's not even seven and I'm already on my first fucking crisis."

"I don't understand," Ryan sighed, shaking his head at Frank, "Why in the world did you say 'yes' to starting today when you knew you were this unprepared?"

"I didn't know I was this unprepared," Frank admitted that much. Not quite admitting that he had other things on his mind yesterday when he had been on the phone to his new boss.

"Why didn't you tell him you needed a few days to get ready?"

"He was persuasive."

"Really? How was he persuasive?" Ryan went to scratch for a shirt of his own. Frank paused. The way Gerard spoke to him was very persuasive. Just the tone of his voice and the way he called him 'boy', it was enough to have Frank practically begging to start his job on Monday. Just the way his new boss spoke to him did a number on his stomach churn in a way that Frank had to admit, it was rather nice to feel.

"Look, let's just focus on the fact that I have to start my new job very soon and I really don't think my new boss'll appreciate me turning up in what I'm wearing right now." Frank groaned, pointing down to the damp towel that hung on his hips.

"Will you relax?" Ryan told him, walking over to where he kept his work clothes, "I've got you."

"How?" Frank asked, lifting his head to watch Ryan, wondering what he was doing as he began to dig around. The rummaging took a minute or so before Ryan turned around, holding out something that he thought was perfectly suitable for Frank to wear on his first day.

"Are you serious?" Frank sputtered when he saw what Ryan was holding. The wash of so much plaid on a coat hanger made him feel uneasy. Frank just fought back a grimace as Ryan smiled, laying the trousers and waistcoat down onto the bed next to him.

"What's wrong with it?" Ryan asked, turning back to find a shirt that would go with it, "I wear this to work."

"I can't wear your clothes to work."

"What other choice do you have?" Ryan chuckled, pulling out a white shirt. If only it was just a white shirt. Maybe that would have toned down the outfit, but no, Ryan had to go and pull out yet another fashion faux pas. The shirt was white with vertical blue-grey stripes and Frank really couldn't tell if there was beige in there somehow. The shirt was hideous and the thought of it being paired with the burnt sienna plaid pants-and-waistcoat that Ryan had handed to him. Just no. Never. Hell, Frank knew he had very little fashion sense, but at least he knew that he would never wear plaid.

"I'm sure he'll understand if I turn up in jeans and a shirt-"

"No," Ryan shook his head, handing Frank the hideous shirt, "First impressions are so important. You can't mess it up. You have to be formal."

"Okay..." Frank said uneasily, taking the shirt in hand, fighting back the look on his face. Lending him socks the other week, fine, they hadn't been the greatest sock choice, but this was a whole outfit. Frank couldn't hide this. He was going to stick out so much. Frank felt like he was going to be eaten alive for wearing something as hideous as what Ryan had given him.

"What?" Ryan asked, sensing the tone of the okay. Frank was uneasy; he wasn't even jumping up to get dressed. He just sat there, holding onto the shirt. Ryan eyed the lack of movement, "What, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," Frank told him, tugging the hanger out as he made eye contact with the rich brown and grey plaid pants that had been laid out for him, "What?"

"You look like I've just handed you skidmark underwear," Ryan said as he went back to getting dressed, shrugging on a forest green paisley shirt, "What's wrong with the shirt?"

"There's nothing wrong with the shirt-"

"Then why is your facial expression the same as it was when I made you wear my lucky socks?" Frank looked at the shirt in hand and at his boyfriend again. The pure disgust and fear of actually turning up to his first day on the job wearing full-plaid and stripes had him queasy. It was either this or nothing. The towel around his waist look was definitely not a good choice.

"I don't have a look on my face," Frank reassured him, finally standing up. He tossed his towel into the wash basket before he started to get dressed. They had to leave very soon so Frank knew that he couldn't mess around getting ready. Frank could not be late on his first day. He didn't want his new boss to be mad at him, especially with his whole 'consequences' tangent that had been stated over lunch.

Frank tried to look casual as he fastened the buttons of the shirt. Now that it was on, he thought that he could have worn the shirt itself with a plain pair of jeans but then he looked up to see Ryan smiling at him expectantly as he fastened his mustard yellow tie. They looked like a pair of fucking clowns in Frank's head. Ryan looked like a piece of corn and Frank looked a piece of shit. The two of them appeared to have been wrapped up in the 80's section of Jo-Ann's fabric store and walked out in whatever they had blindly pulled on. Mustard yellow and dark green, brown, and blue plaid between the two of them made Frank slightly seasick. He pulled the matching waistcoat on over his shirt and stuffed his hands into his pockets, scowling a little.

"You look so cute." Ryan beamed as he walked up behind Frank carrying a pair of brown loafers in hand. He looked at Frank's reflection and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Ryan skimmed a hand over his shoulder, brushing down the matching waistcoat, not noticing how Frank was wincing at his own unfashionable reflection.

"Do I?" Frank asked nervously, hoping that Ryan was joking. Ryan would eventually realize what he had done to Frank; dressing him up like some personal mannequin.

"Of course you do," Ryan beamed, "The pants are a little long, though," He commented. Frank looked down and immediately felt himself internally grumble. Ryan just had to be taller than him. Luckily they were roughly the same build, but even Frank felt somewhat vertically- challenged as he looked down at his sock-clad feet, seeing the bottom of the pants all bunched up and baggy, "But you look so smart. The Congressman will be impressed."

Yeah right, Frank thought, but he kept that to himself, choosing to nod at Ryan, forcing a smile before he bent down to get his shoes. At least he did own a pair of black boots that he could wear. Frank slid them on, going to do his laces up when Ryan appeared by his side again, smiling at him.

"I forgot something," Ryan smiled at Frank when he stood up straight. Frank honestly didn't know what else Ryan could possibly throw at him clothes-wise, but the dark grey and white plaid scarf in his hands was just one item of clothing too far. Why did Ryan own so much plaid? Did he think that it was really going to be a good look on Frank today?

"I'm good," Frank said as nicely as possible. Ryan was giving him one of his favorite scarves to wear. It was like the 'lucky socks' incident all over again, but this time Frank knew to be a little more gentle with his approach. "Thanks, but I think I'll be too warm with a scarf."

"But..." Ryan pouted. Frank sensed the hurt in his voice instantly. Ryan wrung the scarf through his hands, "...the scarf really goes well with the whole outfit."

"Uh..." Frank wanted to protest, but he couldn't when Ryan was already wrapping the fabric around his neck, loosening it off and arranging it with a smile on his face. Frank was deadpan; he stood there with no expression, wondering what he had done in some past life to deserve this entire situation that had rained down on his head like putrefaction. A nice warm bucket of diarrhea poured over his head, his slice of life being served with a side of regurgitation rather than a lovely garden salad. Why could he never have what everyone else was having?

"See?" Ryan smiled, "It really goes. Finishes off the whole outfit." Ryan beamed proudly at his handsome, albeit awkwardly slouched, boyfriend. Fine, the pants were a little too long for Frank, but that just made him look adorable in Ryan's opinion. He stuffed his hands in his pockets uncomfortably as Ryan nodded, happy with how he had dressed Frank for his first day. The first day that Frank was now dreading.

~

"Hi," Frank spoke nervously, having entered his new place of work, walking up to the small desk that sat in the corner of the hallway. A woman with insanely orange-dyed hair in ringlet curls under her ears sat behind the desk, smiling at Frank once he had spoken, "My name is Frank and I, uh, start work here today?"

He hated how he sounded so unsure of himself. He knew that he was supposed to be here. They had got the address right in the car, even though the two of them were unsure if they had found the right place. They had arrived at an oversized single-floor house that was in the right street and was the right number. Ryan had commented on how it was probably some conversion-job. Why have a massive glass office when you could have something more appealing like a house conversion? Ryan had dropped him off, wishing him good luck along with a kiss on the cheek. Ryan was part to blame for the fresh batch of nerves that had settled in the pit of his stomach. He held onto the strap of his bag across his chest with a white-knuckled grip, watching as the girl looked at the screen of her computer. She hadn't batted an eyelid as Frank introduced himself. Maybe she hadn't noticed the plaid and maybe she hadn't noticed the way that Frank had pulled the scarf from around his neck once he was in the building, stuffing it hastily into his bag before composing himself.

"Frank... Iero, yeah?" She asked, breaking away from the computer screen to look at him. Frank ignored the way that she pronounced his surname wrong. Everyone usually did, so he nodded, ignoring the way his mispronounced surname jarred in his head. She smiled at him before pointing to her right, "If you go down the hallway just a little, first door on your right. The office manager will get you all settled in. Welcome to the team, Frank. I'm Hayley."

Frank thanked her and turned on his heel, walking the short distance down the hallway, trying to ignore how his boots made an awful squeaking noise on the wooden floor. He took in how big the place was. On the outside, the house looked huge, but on the inside, it looked and felt so much more how he expected. It was like the kind of place that would be worth far more than the usual price just because of its size. The hallway stretched down to an open-plan room with cubicles in it, and it really did make the house look so much longer than it appeared. Almost Tardis-esque. The walls were plain white with a few abstract pieces of art that Frank couldn't figure out in the mere seconds it took to pass them. He stopped at the door and took in a shaky breath, building up the confidence before he knocked on the open door, getting the attention of the man that was sat in the room.

"Hi," Frank stuttered out. The man in the red and white floral shirt really took Frank by surprise. The shirt looked like it should have belonged to Ryan. At least if this guy could get away with wearing what he was, then maybe no one would bat an eyelid at how Frank was dressed, "I'm Frank, the-"

"New guy, yeah. We were expecting you. Gerard filled us in this morning that you were starting today," The man said, standing up from his desk. The chubby man with the light brown hair, semi-curled mustache, and friendly blue eyes walked over to Frank, extending his hand, "I'm Derek Zanetti, the Office Manager. I'll be taking you under my wing while you learn the ropes, new kid."

Frank already hated the fact that he had barely been in his new job five minutes and he had already been labeled as 'the new guy'. Yeah, he knew it was inevitable, but he did hope that his new coworkers would look passed the fact that he was so new and shiny.

"So, where do you want me?" Frank asked with a semi-confident smile.

"Let me show you around first," Derek said, walking out passed Frank before he signaled for him to follow, "So, opposite my office, you have our filing room. We are trying to get everything digitized but Gerard likes to have physical copies of everything. He's old-school like that," Derek pointed to the room opposite where he had come from, "Then you've got your bathrooms..." He pointed to a set of doors, "Gender-neutral, of course. There was a male and female side each but we're trying out a thing."

"Awesome." Frank smiled at the doors but tried not to think about how nervous he would be if he went in to pee and found some woman in there with him. He pushed it aside as Derek continued down the hall with Frank in tow.

"Next on the left, you have the kitchen. You've got your fridge and the coffee machine and stuff like that. Opposite that is Lindsey's office. She's the Deputy District Director and the Project and Grants Coordinator-"

"Wait," Frank stopped Derek when the name rang a bell in his head. His mind went back to the interview he had done and put two and two together, "Lindsey works here?"

"Yeah," Derek nodded, smiling slightly, "She works here, man."

"As in Lindsey Ballato. Gerard's wife?" Frank asked, still finding it weird actually calling his boss by his first name.

"Yeah," Derek nodded again, almost impatiently, "They work together. They're like the Brad and Angelina of politics."

"Or like Beyonce and Jay Z," Frank commented, feeling a little awkward that he knew this information and that he had just blurted it out. Not correcting, just understanding it in his own way thanks to the knowledge he had learned from Ryan, who was unashamedly a fan of Beyonce. Frank saw Derek's blank expression and added, "Y'know, they're best friends with the Obamas and all into their politics and stuff."

"Right..." Derek frowned at Frank "They just work together. Anyway... At the end of the hall, you have the main work area. The bullpen. Everyone else works here. You've got our Chief of Staff, Ray over there." Frank noticed a man with a wildish frizz of light brown hair holding a hand up to greet him because he had heard his name being mentioned. Frank nodded back, his nerves making a new appearance all over again because he had never expected so many people to be working in this office.

"Then you've got Deputy Chief Christa, Ray's wife," Derek continued with the introductions, letting everyone he mentioned notice that the new guy was here. Frank smiled at the brunette woman, "Cara is our Legislative Director. She works with Matt, Alex, and Rob over there." Frank smiled at the woman with her hair in a long ponytail and gold glasses. She gave him a wink and turned to three men who were all pouring over the file in her hand. Frank couldn't help but notice the one tall man that he now knew as Rob. His height was immense in comparison to Matt beside him, who was probably about the same height as Frank himself.

"Patrick is the press secretary." Derek pointed to the ginger man nearby and then at the chubby guy who was wearing a pair of steampunk goggles on his forehead, "That's James. He's our Computer Systems Manager."

"Someone's gotta keep these machines running." The man Derek had mentioned chuckled, piping up from in the corner to make Derek smirk.

"Ol' Pete over there," Derek pointed to a youngish man, with platinum hair, who looked up and took notice of Frank, "He's our Caseworker. Andy is our Constituent Services Rep." Frank felt somewhat uneasy when he saw the man in question watching him. He had long hair in a ponytail and thick black glasses perched on his nose. He nodded for a second before he went back to working on the stripped PC on the table.

"Our aide is Josh who isn't here right now. You'll meet him tomorrow," Derek informed Frank with a small wave of his hand, "Sarah over there," Derek pointed out a young woman who looked up when she heard her name, "She's one of our Field Reps who you'll be working alongside pretty often."

"Oh," Frank commented, not really knowing what else to say. He nodded, smiling at the person he was apparently going to be working with, but she threw a scowl back at him. Like he had done something wrong, even though he had met her before in his life. He swallowed, "Okay."

"And lastly our legislative counsel is run by Bob and Joe who... Are they on a coffee run?" Derek asked, knowing that they were working barely fifteen minutes ago, but they were nowhere to be seen' their chairs empty.

"Went about five minutes ago." Cara piped up.

"Assholes didn't ask me what I wanted," Derek grumbled, "Anyway," Derek brushed his annoyance to one side, turning on his feet, waving at Frank to follow him back to where they came from, "You, new guy. You come this way."

"Am I not working with those guys?"

"You'll be working in the same office as me," Derek told him before he waved for Frank to join him. Frank entered the room, now noticing the second chair on the other side of the desk that ran alongside the wall, another length of desk separating the workspace for the two of them, "Your desk is all set up. You have direct lines to everyone on your phone, computer all ready to go..."

Their office was small and cozy, desks a white laminate that contrasted with the invigoratingly crisp apple green on two of the walls, the other two an off-white and lined with shelves of books and miscellaneous work-related clutter. Frank set his bag down on his desk beside the computer, "What do you want me to get started on first? Is there any paperwork I need to fill out-"

"Gerard will sort that all out with you later," Derek interrupted him, picking up a stack of papers and files from his desk before he turned to Frank, "For now, I need you to go and file these."

"Oh," Frank stuttered out. He grabbed what Derek was handing him, holding all of it carefully, "Okay... Filing."

"Everything is alphabetized so you shouldn't have any trouble. But if you do, come and get me," Derek told Frank simply, "Okay?"

"Okay." Frank nodded, confident that he was going to be able to do this without having to come and ask Derek for help. Frank walked out of the office, heading for the room opposite, pushing the door open with his shoulder so he didn't accidentally drop all of the things that he had been asked to file. Stepping into the room, he hoped that his first task as the assistant was going to be quick and simple, but seeing the filing cabinets all labeled in a way that worked for the office and labeled in a way that Derek hadn't explained, Frank knew that he was going to be here for a while.

Fifteen minutes later, Frank reappeared relatively unscathed despite the slight discoloration of printer's ink on his fingertips. He felt a sense of achievement come over him as he walked back into his new office where his bag still sat on his desk untouched in haste. Derek watched him for a second and pushed his glasses up on his nose. Frank hadn't seen the glasses on Derek before. Did he only wear them at the computer? Derek pursed his lips, "Took you fifteen minutes to file."

"Sorry," Frank mumbled; he could sense the tone in Derek's voice and from the way he spoke, it was obvious that he had been slow. But seeing as he hadn't been shown how the filing was done here and hadn't had someone supervising him, Frank still felt proud of himself because he had done it single-handedly, "Took me a few minutes to figure out your ordering system."

"You figured it out without having to ask for help?"

"Yeah," Frank nodded, feeling smug because Derek was looking at him like it should have been a difficult task to do without any assistance. Frank responded with a smile, "Your recent files go near the door on the left, older files to the back. You've got everything color-coded and in alphabetical order so it was really easy to sort through once I figured it all out."

"Impressive." Derek enthusing was draped in sarcasm. Frank picked up on the way Derek just seemed a little cheesed-off about the fact that he nailed his first task. He should have been proud, but even Frank was picking up on a vibe now. An 'off' vibe, but Frank didn't care, "So now," Derek started up, turning in his chair so he could face Frank, pointing towards his computer, "You should all be logged-in. If you wanna start running through the emails now, that would be good. Anything important or urgent will be flagged as such. I've cleared some of the inbox this morning, but if you want to-"

Derek was cut off mid explanation as a door behind them opened. Frank hadn't even noticed that there was another door. Derek barely batted an eyelid over it, but Frank turned and looked, surprised that there was another room attached to the one he was in and someone was walking out. Someone who Frank shouldn't have been surprised about seeing, but thanks to the way that it felt like his stomach had just done a full back somersault inside of him, the butterflies erupted in cheer. Frank felt nervous and excited and... Was he really giddy? He wasn't sure, but he remained composed on the outside despite his new boss doing a real number on his insides.

Gerard strode out of his office confidently; walking tall in his tailored suit. Frank couldn't take his eyes off him. The way he walked out into their office, the confidence and authority practically dripping from him. Even in the bright blue two-piece he was wearing, the charge he took had Frank realizing that there was more to this man for him than he originally thought. Definitely, something made Frank's mouth go dry at the sight of him; his mere proximity. It was hard to concentrate with such a striking form of a man in his presence. His thoughts were definitely ones that he wouldn't be sharing with Ryan when he got home lest he wanted a thorough chewing-off of his head.

"Ah, Derek, I see you have already got Frank working," Gerard mentioned, taking note of how his new employee was sat at his desk. Frank felt Gerard's eyes on him, scanning over him. Frank couldn't figure out the expression on his face; nerves blossomed in his stomach all over again, knowing full well that he looked ridiculous. Frank hoped that Gerard wasn't judging him because of the fact that he was wearing one of Ryan's suits, but he didn't know and didn't want to mention it in case Gerard really hadn't thought about it at all.

"Yeah, showed him around too," Derek explained, "Brief introductions with everyone that's here."

"Excellent," Gerard praised Derek before he turned his attention to his newest member of staff, "How are you today, Frank? Well-rested for your first day?"

"Yes, sir," Frank said as confidently as possible, feeling the need to stand up while he spoke to Gerard, "Can I just say; thank you for giving me this opportunity. I'm more than grateful and I can assure you that I won't let you down."

"Of course, Frank. You are my go-to man," Gerard smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder, that made Frank internally stumble, when he squeezed, "I hope you realize the responsibilities that come with your new title."

"I do, sir." Frank gave a resolute nod, "But, uh, what exactly is my new title, sir?"

"You," Gerard straightened up, looking at Derek for a moment before he glanced down at his newest recruit, "You are my Personal Assistant in charge of scheduling, executive inclusion, and... What was it?"

"Field Representation," Derek added in as he pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Gotcha."

"Good boy." Gerard flashed another brilliant smile. Frank felt his cheeks tint pink at the two words that made him almost shiver. He went to sit down, ready to continue with the work that Derek had told him to do, but Gerard continued and he felt the need to keep standing, "I was informed by Miss Williams that you arrived ten minutes early," Gerard commented, "I'm impressed, Frank."

"I would rather come early than late, sir," Frank said in response, hoping to continue to impress his new employer.

"Yes, some people would..." Gerard continued gravely and looked down to examine his nails on one hand, the other sliding into one of his pants pockets as he locked eyes with Frank, "But you must remember, it's not always about coming early, dear boy. As much as most people prefer that, I like to believe that coming when asked is key as well. Listening to instructions and following through with the orders..."

"Yes, sir." Frank nodded, feeling almost uncomfortable with the way Gerard's eyes were on him; piercing him and leaving him so much more exposed than he thought possible. It wasn't a bad feeling but definitely one he could feel himself getting used to especially if Gerard was going to look at him with those eyes.

"Speaking of orders," Gerard began, turning his attention to Derek, "Did I hear that both Bob and Joe have gone out to get coffee?"

"Yeah," Derek sighed irritably, "They went without taking my order."

"Didn't ask me either. Pity," Gerard mentioned, pushing a hand into the pocket on his blue pants. Frank felt himself watching his actions, immediately stopping himself when he realized where he was looking. A blush grew on his cheeks immediately, turning his attention to anything else so it didn't look like he was just staring at his boss' crotch. The new assistant staring at his boss was not the first impression he wanted to give to anyone in the building. Frank did find that Gerard was attractive, so attractive that it made his brain fade in and out like TV during a rainstorm. How was it possible for his stomach to feel like it was churning away in the best way possible? This was something that Frank hadn't experienced for a long time. Since high school, perhaps. It really wasn't a good idea to be getting like this over his new boss, but it wasn't exactly something he was willing to stop either.

"Would you mind running out and grabbing me a coffee then, please?" Gerard asked Frank, offering him some money, "It won't take you long and then you can get back to whatever Derek had assigned you to do."

"O-Of course," Frank nodded quickly, taking the money from Gerard before putting it in his own pocket, "What can I get for you, sir?"

"Venti latte, two sweeteners. Ask them not to put the foam on top. Derek, what would you like?"

"You don't have to get me a coffee-"

"Nonsense," Gerard cut him off instantly, "They forgot to take your order. What would you like?"

"Grande cappuccino with chocolate," Derek smiled. Frank took note of in his head, hoping not to mix up the way they wanted their drinks. It was simple enough, but Frank knew that he was a bit of a klutz when it came to ordering stuff. Unless it was him ordering something for Ryan, then he really knew what he was doing, "Thanks, Gerard."

"My pleasure," Gerard smiled at Derek before he turned to look back at Frank, the eye contact making Frank immediately look to the ground, the hazel gaze piercing right to his very soul, leaving him feeling somehow warm and cold at the same time, "Frank, did you have breakfast this morning?"

Oh God, Frank thought, not this question again. He felt like lying and saying that he had eaten. He didn't want to admit to Gerard that he hadn't eaten this morning because he had been too nervous about starting work, but he felt like he just couldn't lie either. The way he looked at Frank, it made him want to do nothing else other than telling the truth. He cleared his throat, "Uh... Not really, sir."

Gerard shook his head lightly, tutting, "Here," He said, handing some more money to Frank, "Get yourself some breakfast. You can't start the day on an empty stomach. What did I say to you the other week when you interviewed me-?"

"That breakfast is one of the most important meals of the day," Frank cut Gerard off, immediately feeling himself shrink a little because he felt bad for cutting him off. He bowed his head down, looking at his hands before he apologized, "Sorry, sir."

"Good boy," Gerard nodded at him, accepting his apology, "Now run along. Don't forget to get yourself something to eat, okay?"

"Yes, sir." Frank nodded before he exited the office, hoping that he wasn't going to get too lost on his way to the Starbucks that he had never been to before. Frank paused and looked at the money before he turned back to Gerard, "Sir?"

"Frank?"

"I have breakfast in my bag. I, uh..." Frank looked at his bag, "Or, I think I do. There's meant to be pancakes in there but I don't think I packed them."

"Rather safe than sorry, dear boy. Buy yourself something either way." Gerard smiled before whisking off into his office with a flashing turn of his blue jacket, the door closing behind him, the lingering smell of mint and a headier leather-musk in his wake had Frank's head spinning.