InsaneJournal

Nesa Conway swore, and bent to pick up the folders which had scattered from her hands. "Bloody SOLDIER boys," she muttered. "Damn fools don't know how to dodge." It didn't seem fair, she thought. They were the ones who were supposed to be Mako-enhanced, with faster reflexes, faster reactions, more speed and better sight, while she was just a clerk. A clerk who was now late delivering the requested personnel folders to Mr Delacroix, and who was therefore likely to wind up back on archive duty. Again.

It happened every single time she headed up to the SOLDIER levels. It didn't matter what she was carrying, when she arrived, when she left, or how closely she stuck to the walls. She got knocked over at least once every visit, and she never saw who did it. Glumly assembling the folders once more, she made her way to Mr Delacroix's office, and knocked on the door.

"Come." The word was completely impartial and flat. The blond executive never seemed to alter his tone for anyone. She stepped into the office.

"The files you requested, sir," she said, and moved to leave.

"Wait," Delacroix said, not looking up. "I asked for these files twenty minutes ago. They should have been here in fifteen. Why the delay?"

Nesa sighed. Here it came, the dressing-down she'd been dreading. "I apologise, sir. I was knocked over. I didn't see by whom. I must have been in the way." Privately, she knew she hadn't, but telling anyone associated with SOLDIER anything negative about the section was widely renowned to be on a par with banging one's head against the wall in an effort to create a window in terms of effectiveness.

"Knocked over?"

"Yes sir."

"Where did this happen?" the executive asked her.

Nesa blinked. She hadn't been expecting any response other than an instruction not to be so clumsy in future. She looked over at the floorplan of the level he was indicating. It was a rough schematic, indicating the escape route in case of disaster. She located the elevator she'd come up in, and traced the path to the office. "About here, sir," she said, pointing toward an area of corridor.

Lazard Delacroix stood up, and walked over to look at where she was pointing. "Ah. The second grade quarters. Try to avoid that corridor on the half hour."

All of a sudden, Nesa found herself absolutely furious. "It hasn't been just today, sir," she said. "And it wasn't just in that corridor." She pointed out another, different location. "I've been knocked over here," and a third, "and here," and a fourth, "and here," and a fifth, "and three times here. It doesn't matter when I come onto this level, or where I'm going or for what. Some idiot or other barrels into me, I go flying and wind up late, and then I get put on archive duty as a result. It isn't fair, sir."

"Actually," Lazard said, more to himself than to her, "I suspect Fair is precisely what, or rather who, it is." He turned to look at her. "Thank you for reporting this matter. Who is your supervisor?"

Oh no. Now she was for it. "Mr Chun, sir. Administrative section, fourth level."

"I'll have a word with him." He looked at her more closely. "I think you may be wasted there, and I need someone else to handle at least some of the paperwork SOLDIER generates. Would you be interested?"

She couldn't believe it. A transfer to work with SOLDIER? Dumbfounded, she nodded.

"Good," the executive said. "I'll speak to Mr Chun today. I expect to see you here at eight o'clock tomorrow morning, without fail."

"Yes sir," she said, and made her way out of the office. She'd just finished shutting the door behind her when she felt a disturbance in the air. Oh no, she thought, not this time. She stepped to one side, and angled out a foot.

There was a "whump" and a stifled groan. She looked down to see a boy with spiky black hair and a SOLDIER second class uniform lying on the floor. The door to Lazard's office opened.

"Ah, Mister Fair," the executive said. "Do come in."

The boy pulled himself off the floor, and slouched into the room. Mr Delacroix turned to look at Nesa, and a faint smile appeared. "Yes, Miss Conway," he said, "I do believe you'll fit in here very well."