Work Text:
“No! Not again,” Benson muttered under his breath. This was the third time in a row a computer had beat him at chess. He normally appreciated scientific advancement, but this was getting ridiculous. He considered, for a moment, brushing up on his chess skills, moving pretty immediately to plan b: seeing if he could hack the program to stop him from losing. Chess is war, after all, and all is fair as they say.
He made it through the first firewall when his phone started ringing. Keeping his eyes on the computer, he picked up, figuring it was Frank or Alex.
“Benson.”
The line was quiet, aside from some muffling. “Hello?” he tried again.
Still nothing. He counted to five, and gave it one last go, avoiding any names, yesses, or pertinent information, in case it was a robot. “Can I help you?”
Nothing. He went to hang up, but before he did, he noticed the caller ID.
It was Ava.
He took a deep breath, and tried again. “Darling?”
A little more rustling, followed by a small but distinct “baby?”
His heart dropped. He could hear in her voice that she had been crying. Immediately, Benson started closing out windows on his laptop before closing it entirely, getting out of his chair, and fumbling for the light switch in his office. “Where are you?”
“You’re working—“
“Where are you?”
The line crackled again. She was still crying. “Fire station,” she managed to get out.
“I’ll be there in five.” He haphazardly shoved his feet into his shoes and pulled his keys from the hook on the wall. He paused before opening the door, furrowing his brow as he chose the final words. “I love you. Don’t move.”
He didn’t expect a response; while talkative in general, she was a woman of few words in times of stress. He waited for her to hang up before slipping the phone in his pocket, pausing to double check that the ringer was on.