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“Hey, Viktor, could you pass the…”
Jayce did not finish the sentence. Viktor turned to see his partner angled toward him, twirling a hand in the air with his brow furrowed.
“Pass what?” Viktor asked.
“The, uh…” Jayce shook his head a little in apparent disbelief. “The… pi-pinchy, little, grab things?”
Viktor stared blankly. “The what.”
“It’s the, uh…” Jayce gestured with his hands. “It’s a, uh, tool, metal, with the little… pinchy end? And the two arms?”
“The pinchy…” Viktor looked over his desk and spotted the tool, holding it up. “This?”
“That’s it,” Jayce said with a relieved smile. "Pass it here?"
Viktor turned the tool in his hand, smirking. "I'm sorry, what is it you need?"
"Viktor…" Jayce's expression fell slightly. "You're holding it."
"No, no," Viktor shook his head. "Perhaps I'm mistaken. What was the thing you needed?"
"The--" Jayce grimaced, stumbling over his words. "They're the… the pinchy… pi… pincher… things."
"Hmm, I've not heard of 'pinchers'."
"Gods, Viktor, please."
"Come on, Jayce. Use that brilliant mind of yours," Viktor taunted as he twirled the tool idly.
"They're…" Jayce groaned. "Pi… pl… pr… prongs? Prongs?"
"No."
"Prong… pra… pri… prick… pick…" Jayce put a hand to his head and stammered on.
"You're so close, Jayce." Viktor chuckled.
"Really?"
"Eh." Viktor bit his tongue and failed to hold in a laugh.
"Pick… picker… p-pickle… pack… fuck--" Jayce put his head in his hands. "I give up, Viktor!" He moaned. "Please, just… what the hell are they?!"
Viktor extended his arm, ready to provide the tool and the answer.
But when he glanced at the item in his hand, his brain short-circuited and offered ‘плоскогубцы.’
"It's…" Viktor cleared his throat. "Uh…" He tended to think in English when Jayce was around, but after all Jayce's babbling his brain had apparently given up on the language and made a hard switch back to his mother tongue.
"It's?" Jayce prompted, voice muffled through his palms.
"...well, in Russian, it's плоскогубцы."
"Pl- plosk…” Jayce attempted to repeat the word but gave up on the first syllable.
“Плоскогубцы,” Viktor repeated, half for himself.
“...Just tell me, Viktor. In English. Please."
Viktor looked hard at the tool and turned it, as if viewing it from a different angle would help jog his memory. It did not.
"...this is your fault," he said at last.
"What? What's my fault?" Jayce lifted his head, looking at Viktor incredulously.
Viktor worked the tool in his hand, opening and closing it a few times, which accomplished nothing but making a few faint squeaks and clicks.
"I... also… suddenly… can’t actually think of it… in English… right now,” he admitted.
“Really."
“Apparently your lapse in knowledge is contagious.”
“Viktor... come on, stop messing with me."
"I'm serious. I'm looking at this thing and all I hear is your inane babbling." Viktor sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I swear, Jayce. If you had not told me that you had forgotten what it was called, I would remember.”
"You've gotta be kidding me…" Jayce muttered.
“Here, just take it, let’s get back to work.” Viktor said, holding the tool out toward Jayce again. The latter walked over to receive it, opening and closing it in his own hands.
“I’m not going to be able to focus until I remember what this is called,” Jayce huffed, “I mean, for gods' sakes, Viktor, we use it all the time.”
“Maybe I should just teach you the Russian word,” Viktor suggested with a grin.
“And give you the opportunity to make fun of my accent again?”
“It’s not your fault your Yankee accent is so strong.”
Jayce crossed one arm over the other, tapping the end of the tool lightly against his forehead, frowning and staring a hole into the floor.
“Overthinking it is unlikely to help,” Viktor pointed out.
“Yeah, I know, Viktor, but what the hell?” Jayce said exasperatedly. “We created hextech, we can decode runes, but we can’t figure out what this tool is called?”
“Плоскогубцы,” Viktor insisted coyly, and Jayce groaned.
---
Though it was not uncommon for Mel to hear conversation inside Jayce and Viktor’s lab, the animated conversation she heard through the door today was louder than normal. She knocked twice.
“Yeah?” The word was louder and more direct than the rest of the noise, so Mel took it as an invitation and let herself in. Jayce was standing over Viktor’s desk, waving a hand wildly as he spoke with the other scientist. Mel made her way over, heels clicking on the tile. The two were back to talking over each other, hardly acknowledging she was there.
“You said I was close with–”
“I’ll be honest, Jayce, I was probably lying–”
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Mel interjected. The two men paused their conversation and turned to face her. “I won’t take up much of your time. The council would like to move the timeline for your next presentation up to the thirteenth, if you’re amenable.”
“Uh… yeah, that should be fine,” Jayce nodded. He turned to Mel, raising his hand to show her the tool he held within it. “Question for you, so long as you’re here.”
“Yes, Jayce?”
“What’s this called?”
Mel raised a brow, instinctively looking to Viktor to try and see if she was being played. He simply looked back at her, as earnestly awaiting her reply as Jayce.
“...is this a test?” she inquired.
“No test,” Jayce insisted.
Mel was not convinced, but she didn’t have time not to play along.
“They’re pliers…?”
“Fucking– pliers, they ply, they’re pliers, Viktor!” Jayce exclaimed, slamming his empty hand down on the desk.
“Pliers,” Viktor repeated. “I told you 'prongs' wasn't right.”
“Thank you, Mel, you’re a lifesaver.” Jayce beamed. “We’ve spent like… the last half hour trying to remember that. Pliers.”
“Oh, really?” Mel raised a brow. “Half an hour?”
“Yeah, it was the dumbest thing,” Jayce conceded with a sheepish laugh.
“Indeed,” she chuckled with a crooked grin, “Hmm. Perhaps we’ve been too generous with your funding.”
Jayce blanched. “M-Mel, come on, i-it was hyperbole, that’s not–”
“Best impress on the thirteenth, gentlemen,” she advised, calling back over her shoulder as she turned and headed for the door. She heard Jayce start up the conversation again behind her as she turned into the hall.
“Hey Viktor… would it be stupid if we labeled everything?”
“Yes. Completely.”