a riddle, a riddle!

[fox]

TITLE: In Which Fox Entertains Herself and Some Others
AUTHOR: Fox
RATING: G
NOTES: Thanks to padawanhilary and telesilla, who,
because of their involvement, are barred from trying to solve the riddle
contained in this wee ficlet. Can you? What does C.G. do for a living?
There may even be a prize for the first correct answer.

DISCLAIMER: I assure you I am not drunk or even especially
sleep-deprived.

SUMMARY: The title says it all, I think.


C.G. had always known he was different. It had never caused him
much concern -- he got along with his co-workers fine, and when
he wasn't at work he kept himself to himself and didn't take much
notice of them or anything else. There wasn't a lot of excitement
in his life; same old same-old, every day, with occasional
overtime, which was exhausting but satisfying.

And then one day, when things had been trucking along without
incident for about five months, C.G.'s world turned around. He
and his team shuffled around and traded assignments, and C.G. got
a change of scenery -- and what he saw made him weak with
desire.

He'd never been so captivated before. Previously, he'd seen others
he'd been able to recognize as objectively attractive, but he'd never
felt much drawn to any of them. Yeah, they had nice curves, or
whatever, but the flashy exterior never did much for him. Secretly,
he preferred the look, at least, of his work buddies -- but he always
kept his professional distance from them; that kind of relationship
could ruin the team if it went wrong. Besides, it probably wouldn't
have lasted; they had too *much* in common, which was a rarer
problem than what C.G. faced with the rest of the world -- not
having enough in common to make a relationship work -- but still
something to consider.

But here, right in front of him, was the most beautiful sight he'd
ever seen. Sleek; stylish; with an air of quiet reserve about him
that C.G. found instantly appealing. This guy, he sensed, would
hang out minding his own business until his input was required,
and then he'd step in gracefully and give it. Now, that was class.
Maybe C.G'd get kicked around for thinking that way about his
own kind, but he didn't care. For the first time, he was within
reach of what he really wanted -- he wasn't going to let the
opportunity roll by without doing something about it.

He took a deep breath and tried to ignore the pressure of the
situation as he turned to the stranger. "Hi," he said. "I'm C.G.
MacIntyre."

-- ending --