A Compleat History of Computers, According to Chris Skelton, by fiandyfic (PG-13)

[jantalaimon.livejournal.com]

Fandom: LIFE ON MARS
Author: fiandyfic
Authors' fic list: Fiandyfic's master fic list
Word count: 2,540
Pairing: Gen; Chris-centric (as the title would suggest)
Why this must be read: fiandyfic is a bit like the LoM fandom's GoBots of specialness. They write insanely disturbing and insanely crack-riddled fics with equal aplomb, and while both Fi and Andy are quite dangerous taken individually, they're even more dangerous when taken as a whole. Some say, if you feed their particular hutch of bunnies, you've only yourself to blame when those bunnies decide that meat is much tastier than boring old veg and they chase after you with such bloodlust that they make the one from the Holy Grail look cute and cuddly. All we know is, they're called fiandyfic.

1973

The Boss sometimes said the strangest things. Especially when he was tired, stressed or pissed. At that particular moment, Chris realised, his DI was all three. They had been searching through the archives for hours in pursuit of one particular file. It hadn't been where it was supposed to be, which was fairly normal for the collators' den, and so the hunt had begun.

At about hour three, the bottle of scotch had come out. Sam had waved it, and two paper cups, at Chris. "Lateral thinking!" he exclaimed, and poured them both a significant measure. Chris, conscientious as always, had only sipped at his, mindful of the fact that whisky got him very drunk very quickly. Even so, four hours later, the level in the bottle was hovering somewhere around half-full.

Sam slumped in one of the spindly wooden chairs gathered around the central table and buried his head in his arms. He gave a heartfelt sigh before raising it again, staring at Chris with bleary eyes.

"You know, this is supposed to be easy. Go the archive, pull out the file, cross-reference it to the current case, find who has been abducting these teenagers and then bang him up. Easy."

Chris made a conciliatory noise, but Sam carried on.

"Instead, we're trawling through acres of paperwork, most of which is filed in no discernable order, all covered in acres of dust, trying to find a file that should've been just 'there'." He waved to a shelf near the door.

"We'll find it," Chris ventured.

"You know, where I come from…"

In Hyde, Chris's brain helpfully supplied, though he didn't vocalise the thought. It was pretty clear that the Boss came from somewhere much further away than the outskirts of Manchester.

"Where I come from, we have these wonderful machines. Computers. And with the click of a couple of buttons I would've been able to not only call up the record and find the paper file, but someone would've scanned it in and I'd've been able to get the information straight off the screen. No mucking about in dusty file rooms trying to find the proverbial needle in a haystack."

"Computers can't do that, boss. They do things like put men on the moon. "

A Compleat History of Computers, According to Chris Skelton