There was never any reason to stay up late, as far as Reid Covey was concerned. If Umma wanted to watch a movie after dinner, it always ended roughly around eight, eight-thirty depending on how late he'd gotten home from work and when dinner followed after. Most evenings were spent winding down - Umma knitting or tinkering around with a small project while Reid listened to his new record player or snuck off to his room to play a few rounds of BINGO on his phone.
There was never any worry about people texting him at all hours of the night because Reid had no one to text him at all hours of the morning. Jade Argent was an exception - his General could ask for his assistance at any given moment and he was well prepared for that potential... but she had never called on him unless it was during waking hours.
Still, he kept his phone on just in case, so when the flat, very not flip device began to buzz and vibrate wildly at 4:03 in the morning, blue eyes shot open and one arm shot out from beneath the blankets to snatch the phone from off of the nightstand.
Blurry, sleepy eyes tried their best to focus as he worked his way through opening the smart phone (which was still a struggle to understand, if he was completely honest). It wasn't Miss Argent's number that was texting him, bringing both immediate relief and confusion at the same time.
No... it was Barnett.
Barnett?
Scanning the series of messages, he watched as more began to pour through at the same time. Ping. Ping. Ping.
What the hell?
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and slid his phone onto silent mode before slipping it back on the nightstand. He had half a mind to snap at her, to ask her what the hell she was doing up this early talking all sorts of nonsense but the sun was still hiding behind the horizon, he opted to try to sleep for the remaining hours that he could.
When his alarm clock went off two hours later at precisely 6:00am (as he still used an alarm clock, not trusting the "alarm" option on his newfangled phone), there were even more messages waiting for him.
What the hell.
Grabbing the phone, he rose from the bed and rubbed the sleep from one eye as his other hand slowly worked to punch out a response.
To Barnett
did you really update me on your video game saga at four in the morning
He paused, staring harder at her former messages, the confusion etched across his expression.
To Barnett
what would I do with your keyboard and mouse
To Barnett
I already have one of my own
Shaking his head, he rolled his eyes and tossed the device onto his pillow before rising up and stretching. He'd deal with her nonsense when he got to work in two hours -- god, if she was up at 4 and texting, who even knew how much snoring she'd be doing in the adjacent cubicle?
En route to pick up the administration's morning coffee order, he did make a small pit stop for a can of blue gasoline (they came in twelve different colors, what the even christ) for his neighbor because... well.
Just because.
AMItotic
