Disclaimer: I do not own anything. I'm so pathetic. 989 Studios (actually...I guess it's Sony that owns everything now, isn't it?) owns Syphon Filter and Gabriel Logan, Lian Xing, Jonathon Phagan, Eric Rhoemer and a bunch of other guys. They sure do have active imaginations...

Summary: Set in Syphon Filter One. What did Gabe REALLY do at that PHARCOM reception? Read and find out!

At the Reception... by Dark Side Luke

Gabriel Logan walked into the reception at the PHARCOM exhibits, watching the people idly chat and exchange pleasantries.

"Lian," he whispered, "I don't want to be here."

"Quiet you," Lian's voice said into his ear. "Keep your mind on the mission!"

"What am I supposed to do again?"

"Watch Phagan. He might have a meeting with Rhoemer."

"Whatever." Gabe looked around saw a few people looking at him while he talked to himself. He shrugged. "Don't stare at me because I'm different," he said. The people quickly looked away.

Gabe saw Phagan standing near the door, talking to people as they entered. He walked over and shook Phagan's hand.

"Hi I'm Gabe," he said. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Phagan."

"Uh, hi," Phagan said, a look of puzzlement on his face. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"No of course not. I have nothing to do with Rhoemer." Gabe quickly walked away.

Hehe, he thought. I'm so clever.

"You nearly blew the whole mission, you imbecile!" Lian screamed in his ear. He winced. "Be more careful from now on!"

Gabe walked over to a serving girl and grabbed a glass of champagne. He sniffed it. The bubbles tickled his nose. He took a giant swig, empty the glass's contents in one gulp. He grabbed another glass and wandered elsewhere, keeping an eye on Phagan.

He wandered over a girl standing in the corner by herself.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Gabriel Logan. What's your name?"

"You have such a girly name," the girl said, clearly showing her disgust.

"I didn't ask for your opinion! I asked for your NAME!" He felt like reaching under his coat and drawing his silenced 9mm pistol. If he did that, though, Lian might yell at him. He wondered how she knew exactly what he was doing all the time.

"You don't talk to a lot of women, do you?"

"No." Gabe's shoulders sank. "I'm not very popular with the ladies."

"I can see why. Goodbye!" She turned and walked away.

"Witch," Gabe muttered after she left. "She had a fat ass anyway." He drank the contents of his champagne glass in one gulp. He walked by the same serving girl and took another glass, replacing the empty one on the tray.

"Gabe, what are you doing?" Lian asked. "Don't get drunk before the mission."

"Pssh," Gabe said. "I'm working here. Go away." He walked over to a small group of businessmen and women.

"And he said," one man was saying, "If you don't order those 920's I'll have a fit! Then I said, go and have a fit, you old geezer! Get 'em yourself!" The group started laughing.

Gabe laughed as well, even though he missed the rest of the story.

The group turned to stare at this stranger. "Can I help you?" one woman asked.

Gabe's shoulders slumped even more and he walked away, quickly finishing off his third drink.

"Where's Phagan?" Lian asked.

"Don't YOU know? Pssh. I thought you knew EVERYTHING!"

"Gabe. Calm down. You're scaring some of the party-goers."

Gabe rolled his eyes and strolled by the serving girl, taking a fourth glass.

"I think you've had enough, sir," the girl said. "It's not even dark yet."

Gabe was about to retort, but instead, held it back. "Say, you're cute. Do you think I look good in this tux? I usually wear combat gear, so I don't often get the pleasure of talking to nice ladies at parties."

A line of curses erupted from Lian's microphone. He tried his hardest to ignore her.

"Uh, sir?" the serving girl asked. "Perhaps you should step outside and have a breath of fresh air."

"Yeah, whatever." Gabe turned and went toward the door. Outside, he could see many smokers standing, puffing their cigarettes, and secluding themselves from the rest of the party. He opened the door and stepped outside.

The evening air was fresh and cool. On the horizon, the sun was setting, making it a picture-perfect scene.

"Keep an eye on Phagan, dammit!" Lian yelled at him.

"It's so pretty," Gabe said. "How come we never get to watch the sun set, Lian? Don't you like me?"

There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments. "I don't think this is the time for discussions, Gabe," she said at last. "Just get the job done. Get back in there."

Gabe sighed and opened the door, walking back in, feeling slightly tipsy. He took another sip of his drink.

"This floor is uneven," Gabe said to no one in particular. "And the spin is rooming. Lian, I need to use the bathroom."

"I don't need to know, Gabe. Just make sure Phagan doesn't get away."

Damn, Gabe thought, Doesn't she think about anything else? He would have to pull her away from that computer one of these days and show her how to live life to its fullest by dodging bullets and shooting people with grenade launchers. He smiled at some of the memories.

The bathroom was empty and he looked at himself in the mirror. He was still handsome. Why weren't the ladies falling for him?

(A/N: Sorry to interrupt, (you don't need to read this, it's not integral to the story) but have you ever noticed that Gabe gets uglier and uglier as the games progress? He wasn't very handsome to begin with (contrary to what he thinks in this story), but in the three games that exist as of when this story was written, he has become beauty-impaired. I just wanted to know if anyone else noticed that...)

"Lian," he asked. "Am I ugly?"

Lian sighed. "I'm going to say this once more, Gabe. Concentrate on the mission. Sober up a little too."

Gabe frowned. It's hard to sober up on a moment's notice, he thought. Especially when you're not drunk. He left the bathroom, walking back into the party.

Phagan was walking towards the Stonhenge exhibit. Gabe cursed under his breath and followed him, making his best to look natural. He tripped over his own foot and stumbled, quickly regaining his composure. Once he left the party, he drew his gun and followed...

***

And the rest, as they say, is history. This story, I realize, wasn't very funny, but it was a challenge to come up with humour with such a serious game. I tried; you can't fault me on that. Review, please, but try not to make the flames too hot. I like my stories medium-rare (haha...ah forget it.). Thanks for reading.