A/N:Well, I've created a new IanOC story. Don't expect updates too often since I'm posting and writing as I go. (My Beta is on vacation right now, so if there are any mistakes, I apologize.)

Enjoy!

Might as well say it now...I work for Ian Howe.

I needed a job, and he gave it to me. It wasn't exactly the type of job I was looking for, but it certainly paid well. When I first started working for him, about two and a half years ago, I was a secretary of sorts. I had to be the best paid secretary in all of Washington D.C.!

Everyday, I would travel across Downtown D.C. from my apartment to Ian's place of business, which was really a small warehouse on the outskirts of the city.

From the outside, the building was just a warehouse, but on the inside, it was very nice. He obviously had a lot of work done to the place.

The first floor was carpeted in a light blue, with matching painted blue walls, and darker blue furniture. The furniture was made up mostly of couches and chairs; a few small, round, low tables were scattered around. There were two large, rectangular windows along the right wall. I always thought of the first floor as a common room, where anyone could just relax or take a break. I was often found there on my breaks in one of the big, squishy, reclining chairs and watching ESPN Sports Center on the plasma screen attached to the wall in between the windows.

The second floor was slightly similar to the first, but this was where we did work. It was very open...no cubicles here. The floor had the same carpeting as the first floor, but the walls were left white. There were only five of us (not including Ian) who had desks: Shaw and Phil's were to the left and Viktor and Shippen's (I never found out his first name, since 'Shippen' was how he was addressed by everyone) were to the right. My desk was in the corner just to the left of the stairs, so if anyone came in, I wouldn't have to walk too far to greet and help them. Our desks were metal, painted black, while the tops were glass. Black metal cabinets were on either side of the desk and flat screen computers were on top.

Ian had a small office at the back of the building that was furnished with dark woods; his large desk and bookshelf were both finished in dark red. His desk faced out towards the middle of the building with his back to the window. The bookshelf was to his right on the opposite end that the door was, and at the bottom of the shelf was a cabinet that he locked important or expensive things in. He also had a black couch along the wall in front of his desk, and two comfortable black chairs that sat to the side of the desk by the door.

I have to admit that I was a little jealous; I wanted a wooden desk...hitting body parts on wood would seem like hitting a pillow compared to hitting metal.

One more good thing about working in this office was that there was no dress code, really. We just couldn't wear jeans when working, so I wore cargos or khaki pants almost everyday with some sort of polo or V-neck type shirt.

Actually, one other good thing about working for Ian: he was easy on the eyes, I have to admit...very handsome. His shaggy blonde hair and gray-green eyes made him look younger than he actually was...not that he was that old to begin with (only a few years older than me...but never ask me my age). And every time I saw him smile, he made me smile. His English accent got to me at times, too. He always wore button down shirts to the warehouse and always had the first few buttons undone. Occasionally, from my desk, I would just watch him, but was always careful not to be caught staring. Was I crushing on my boss? Probably. But he would never find out...I hoped.

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I was the only one in the building for a few days while Ian, Shaw, Shippen, Phil, and Viktor went on some crazy treasure hunt, which was hidden by the Knight's Templar, a division of the Freemasons. Ian told me he'd rather have me stay behind in case they got into trouble.

"In case you guys get caught and killed?" I had asked him, sarcastically.

"Yeah, something like that." He had replied, grinning slightly.

So I was left behind while they had all the fun. I brooded around the warehouse for the first two days, but I came to the realization that it wasn't so bad...I just didn't have anyone to talk to and sometimes ended up talking to myself.

Don't get me wrong, I do have other friends, but not many...but they all worked in a normal office and I couldn't talk to them whenever I wanted. I considered myself lucky.

After a few days of playing games on my computer and answering the phone at the warehouse, I was going insane with boredom. At least when the guys were there, I had someone to bet on the sports with and play pranks on. (I would bet on a different sport with each guy: Shaw was soccer, Phil was American football, Viktor was ice hockey, and Shippen was rugby. Ian chose not to bet...with me, anyway. I don't know if he bet with the others.)

I was lounging on the couch in my apartment late one night when my cell phone started to ring. Sighing and rolling my eyes, I picked my phone up off of the coffee table as I continued to lie on the couch. The number was unfamiliar, so I answered it tentatively.

"H-Hello?" I asked, lifting the phone to my ear.

"Jack, it's Ian." The voice on the other end said.

Yeah, my name's Jack; short for 'Jacquelin'..and 'Jackie' doesn't suit me.

I sat up on the couch.

"Ian? What's up? Where are you calling from?"

"We're in a little trouble, Jack, and we need your help."

A/N: How was that for a start?

Constructive citicism only, please. Flames will be used to help out the pyro side of me to burn marshmellows ('cause it's wicked fun!).