Chapter Text
Helena downloads a VPN before doing what she’s about to do. She’ll not get caught dead with this in her search history. Not that anyone would suspect it was her, but. You can never be too cautious.
She starts typing.
mark scout
Immediately, the webpage floods with search results. An actor, a musician, an athlete—oh. There he is.
Ganz College Faculty, History Department.
Professor Mark Scout.
She clicks on the link, her heart pounding in anticipation.
The webpage loads, and…it’s empty. They must’ve removed his profile after he left his teaching position. She can still see the URL from the search results though, and wonders if she can use a web cache or archive. She wonders what he looked like, back then, before losing Gemma ruined his life.
She keeps scrolling down, hoping to find something else.
No luck.
She readies her fingers over the keys again. Maybe she needs to be more specific?
mark scout history ganz
She clicks enter. This time, the results go further back. His time as a postgraduate student. Her eyes widen. His PhD dissertation, as a PDF. Some articles about him in the school newsletter…a member of the theater club? She smirks. He’s such a nerd. She pushes the scroll wheel, looking further. The smile drops from her face.
A young Mark Scout, circa 2004. The photo is grainy and blurry, shot from an unstable hand. But Mark looks…she swallows. This Mark is four years younger than she is now. His jaw is sharp yet still androgynous, and his high cheekbones make him look like a model. His fluffy brown hair looks puppy-like and voluminous, nothing like the slicked down style Mark wears now. He’s gorgeous, really.
She flushes, imagining how handsome he must’ve looked as a professor, how the girls must’ve drooled over him. There must be photos from that era too, right? There must be…
mark scout professor ganz 2008
Nothing she hasn’t seen. Helena bites her lip. This is embarrassing, but it’s not like anyone will know…
mark scout professor ganz 2009
Nothing.
mark scout professor ganz 2010
Nothing there, either.
mark scout professor ganz 2011
She’s starting to feel stupid, when—
mark scout professor ganz 2012
Her breath catches. Bingo.
There’s a link. “12th Annual Ganz College Winter Humanities Gala”. Helena clicks on it with trembling fingers.
It’s an article, and Mark is mentioned. There is a photo with an accompanying caption. Helena’s heart thuds. He’s in a suit and tie, his hair short and neat. Dapper. Gorgeous. His arm is tight around a beautiful dark-haired woman in a long, sage colored dress, and his hand rests low on her waist. Gemma.
Helena’s eyes find words and she starts to read: “Two well-loved members of our faculty, Professors Mark and Gemma Scout (recently married) of the History and Literature departments respectively, pose for a photo together. So sweet! [photo courtesy of Angelo Arteta]”
Helena trails her gaze down his face, to his light stubble, his slight frame, and his long legs. The hand around his wife is large and possessive. Helena feels a pang of jealousy, then a furious vindication. How would this Mark Scout feel knowing his innie kissed Helena’s innie? That he had sex with Helena, and then her innie? That he can’t stay away from her, even though he knows he should be focusing on finding Gemma?
Her heart pounds. She bites her lip.
mark scout professor sexy
It’s wishful thinking. It’s not like anything’s going to pop up.
The page loads. Nothing, really…but…what is this? She sees something that catches her eye. It’s a Facebook post dated September 21st, 2008. She clicks.
It’s a text post that reads “just got accepted into Ganz!! I hope I get sexy professor mark scout for history hahahah”
Helena grimaces. Ugh. How distasteful. She clicks on the woman’s profile, eyes narrow with disgust. She’s still living in Ganz, it looks like. Married now, with kids. Nothing too noticeable. He didn’t respond to her post, of course. He probably didn’t even see it.
He’s probably not on social media at all…but…
mark scout facebook
Nothing.
mark scout twitter
mark scout myspace
mark scout instagram
mark scout wikipedia
She’s considering typing in “mark scout reddit” when she has a sick thought. It makes warmth erupt in her stomach.
mark scout helena eagan
Articles after articles about Lumon. Helena’s never been more angry to be an Eagan.
mark scout helena
Nothing at all. Then, something dawns on her.
mark s helly r
A post on a site she’s never been on before. It seems to be for…writing made up stories?
Eyes wide, she starts reading.
Mark pulls Helly into a hallway when their boss isn’t looking. “Helly, I’ve been thinking. I want to stay with you forever. I don’t want to go back out there anymore. Let’s run away together. Stay here forever together on the severed floor.”
“Okay,” Helly responds, eyes wide with desire. “I love you, Mark. That was so, so hot.” Her pupils dilate. She drops her voice. “Take me right here, right now. Please.”
Helena pauses, scanning down a few lines. It looks like they start having sex, right there in the hallway. She groans inwardly. So uncouth. She wishes there was a bit more care put into the treatment of her and Mark’s innies.
It makes sense that people want to see them together, fantasize about their potential romance on the severed floor. Helena’s chest aches with something she can’t name.
She sees a ‘comment’ button. Well, it can’t hurt to give some feedback, right?
She types: “Hello, person who posted this story. Thank you for loving Helena and Mark’s innies. I just want to let you know that it’s unrealistic for them to be doing this on company time, as I’m pretty sure Lumon is very strict about workplace relationships.”
She clicks away, hoping to find something better.
An hour later, she’s nothing but disappointed. All of these people seem to think that they get to do whatever they want at work.
It’s just…unrealistic is all. A bit crass. She remembers how Mark S treated her at the ORTBO. All softness and tenderness. She swallows hard. He deserves to be portrayed correctly. Helly, too, she supposes. Her chest aches again.
An idea pops into her head. She can write something, maybe inspire some people. She bites her lip. Her teachers always used to say she was very creative.
She opens a blank document and begins typing.
“Good morning, Helly,” Mark says, first thing in the morning. He has a cup of black coffee and is sipping it, his throat expanding and flexing as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. His dark hair (which matches his beautiful dark eyes) is slicked back, making him look like a sexy professor. He walks over to Helly’s desk and leans over it. In doing so, his triceps flex and his forearms tighten. A button pops open on his sleeve.
Helena stops typing with a gasp, her imagination running wild. Her fingers are trembling over the keys. Her palms are getting a bit slick with sweat. She licks her lips. She’s trying not to get too carried away. This is for realism, of course. A documentary of sorts. Tame your tempers. Helena takes a deep breath before continuing.
“Hi, Mark,” Helly responds sweetly. “How are you doing this morning?”
“I’m well, Helly,” Mark says, smooth as butter.
“Okay, then. I’ll just be working on refining this macrodata.” She sits down, crossing her long legs, and starts working.
Mark leans over her shoulder. “Whoa, you’re doing so well. You just have a few percentage points to go until you get your first reward.” His breath is warm on her neck, tickling the side of her face.
Helena pauses again. She feels a pulsing at the apex of her thighs. She can almost imagine the feeling of him, behind her, praising her…
“What’s my first reward? A finger trap?” Helly asks.
“Better,” Mark whispers. “I have a place to show you after you finish your file…” He slides a large, firm hand from her shoulder, to the top of her spine, to the small of her back. Possessive.
Helena stares at the text she just wrote, the promise this fictional Mark made hanging in the air. She’d be a bit of a hypocrite, then, if she posted this online after chiding others for writing about them romantically. This’ll just be something for her, she decides.
“Okay, Mark. I’m almost finished,” Helly responds cheekily. She smiles at Mark, making him blush. It’s clear he has a soft spot for her.
“Helena?” A voice jolts her from her dreamy thoughts.
Her driver is here. She almost forgot why she was searching up Mark Scout’s information in the first place.
Shit. She’ll just have to wing it.
“Coming!” she calls, closing her laptop sharply and leaping to her feet. She slips on some satin socks and nice shoes, cringing. Why she’s dressing up for him, she has no idea. She wants to make a good impression, is all.
She steps outside, the cool air hitting her face and calming down her body temperature. She faces her driver, who’s waiting for her with the car door open.
“Zufu, right?” he confirms.
She nods. Time to charm him, for real.