This was my entry for the Tumulus July 2008 contest. The challenge was to use at least 3 of the following words: koala, wish, magma, handcuffs, temptation, and sangria. It's just a little oneshot of an early morning when Dorothea, Robin Goodfellow's secretary, comes in for work. Takes place after Nightlife.
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Dorothea arrived an hour before the dealership opened as she did every day, six days a week for the last ten years. She let herself in the employee's entrance, locked the door carefully, and reset the alarm. She hung up her coat and set the Tupperware container of muffins on the table in the main showroom. She took out the muffins and arranged them carefully in a pleasing display. She had been feeling a little experimental in the kitchen last night, so today's muffins were lemon chiffon with curls of dark chocolate on top. Mr. Fellows liked her muffins, and had said more than once they had helped him close a deal.
In fact, her muffins were instrumental in her getting this job. Dorothea remembered the day she had come in for her interview. When it was her turn to get up and walk through the small gathering of younger, more stylish applicants, she walked with confidence she didn't necessarily feel and sat in the inner office with Rob Fellows. She was experienced enough to know what Mr. Fellows needed for his business to thrive: someone who was fast with numbers, efficient, fiercely loyal, and ready for steady employment. Oh, yes, and she told him she could cook. He quirked his angular eyebrows in amusement and his lips twitched. Without any other words, she placed a white lace doily on his desk, and set a peach cobbler and cream muffin in its center. At her encouraging nod, Mr. Fellows took a deep bite. His eyes widened, he chewed slowly, and swallowed. Then he gave her a brilliant smile.
"Miss Dorothea – may I call you Miss Dorothea? How soon can you start?" And that was that.
Now she was his secretary, content to work diligently in the background managing his business (but fortunately not his social) affairs. Dorothea found him to be a perfect boss –genial but sharp, and generous with bonuses when Christmas came. Thus she was willing to go the extra mile, such as making fresh muffins every day and programming the coffee maker to begin brewing ten minutes before Mr. Fellows was due to make his appearance.
Dorothea sat down at her work station, pulled the little koala figurine out of her pocket and added it to the collection on her desk. She couldn't resist getting it while she was shopping on her way home last night. She only had a dozen or so on her desk. She had plenty more at home, but she only kept a few at work and changed them out periodically. They were all shapes and sizes. This one looked a little startled, which she found endearing. Dorothea patted it before she began to wade through Mr. Fellows voice mail.
Nearly a half hour later, Dorothea heard something in the office behind her. She frowned and looked back. She hoped something hadn't fallen over, such as Mr. Fellow's coat rack. He certainly did overtax it with the number of coats he kept at the office alone. She got up to investigate. He would be here soon and it wouldn't do to have anything out of place.
The first thing she noticed upon entering Mr. Fellows office was the set of padded handcuffs on the floor by the door.
Dorothea sighed. "I do wish that man wouldn't keep leaving these sorts of things out." She was too old and had seen enough in her lifetime to not judge young people for their proclivities, but at least he could pick up after himself! As Dorothea bent down to retrieve the handcuffs, she saw the monster under the desk. It stared at her with eyes the color of magma that glowed malevolently in the shadows. Its skin was pale and fine white hair hung down past pointed ears. It grinned at her, revealing razor edged teeth.
Dorothea's eyes went huge, her mouth opening in shock, then closing, and opening again as she was momentarily at a loss for words. Her cats-eye glasses with their beaded chain slid halfway down her nose.
"Ye-e-sss," it hissed. "Perfect. Little sheep, I'll disembowel you and leave you as a promise to return to visit him soon." It slunk out from under the desk on hands and feet cruelly clawed. Dorothea just stared. The monster rose on its feet and suddenly jumped at her, clearly meaning for the woman to run.
Dorothea's hand flashed out and she caught it by its pointy ear. "Well, now. Aren't you just a nasty little thing?" she said, giving its head a quick shake. It was the monster's turn to be shocked. After all, sheep did not fight back. Ever. It tried to claw her hand, but its arms just flopped uselessly.
Dorothea sighed. "What on Earth did Mr. Fellows get himself involved in? He used to be so simple and straightforward. Now he's always getting into one scrape after another. I'm thinking it probably has something to do with those Leandros boys, hhmmm?"
The monster couldn't respond if it wanted to. Its skin was starting to glisten and turn hard. It was shrinking down, turning gray and white. At last it was a small porcelain figurine nestled in the palm of Dorothea's plump hand.
"There now, much better. This way you can think about what you've done. Shame on you, picking on an old lady like myself." She glanced over the office and saw that everything else was in place. She absently tucked he handcuffs in her sweater pocket as she shut the door. She went back to her desk and set her new figurine next to the mugger she had encountered last night.
She spoke to them in a gossipy voice as she continued on with arranging the dealership's paperwork for the day. "I wasn't always the way you see me now. I used to be a sort of temple spirit for a people older than Mr. Fellows. Shh. Don't tell him, though. I'm getting on in years and I just want to be somewhere I can keep occupied and look after the place. Do you know there aren't even legends of my kind any more, I'm that old? I should be insulted, but look at what happened to the cherubs. Now that was a disgrace. Oh, well, at my age I guess a reputation shouldn't matter so much."
The coffee maker clicked on and began gurgling hot water through the filter. "He'll be here soon, so we'll just keep this a little secret between ourselves, alright?" She winked conspiratorially at the frozen koala menagerie on her desk.
Ten minutes later Mr. Rob Fellows came in through the front door. He was impeccably dressed as always, but he was wearing oversized dark glasses.
"Good morning, sir. How are you?" she said with quiet cheer as she bustled up to trade his coat for a large cup of coffee.
"Ah, Miss Dorothea – my Angel of Mercy. Quick, I need one of your delectable muffins to restore me. I am weak with hunger."
She followed him into his inner office, handing him one of the lemon and dark chocolate creations. "Another long night, sir?"
"The East Coast Sangria Championship was last night, and the other 2 judges backed out at the last minute. I was left to do all the tasting on my own. It was grueling." He took a deep pull on the coffee and followed up with a bite of muffin. He sighed deeply. "You, however, have restored me. Thank you."
"I was wondering where you'd gone off to in such a hurry." She produced the handcuffs from her pocket.
Mr. Fellows examined them. "Ah. I could have used these last night." He tossed them into his desk's top drawer.
Dorothea chuckled, used to her employer's peccadilloes by now. "I have all you messages here in descending order of urgency. Also, the numbers for last week you requested."
"That's my girl!" he said cheerfully, whipping off the dark glasses and scanning the columns avidly. "Stevens is slipping a little; I'll have to light a fire under him. I expect these totals to pick up in the next month or two."
"That's right. Graduations are coming up, aren't they?" They shared a smug look.
"Speaking of extra work and such, Cal is coming by today to put in a little work towards his and Niko's car payments. If I'm not around, see that he's kept occupied, will you?"
Dorothea pursed her lips disapprovingly.
"Is there something wrong?"
"Well, I'm not so sure about those two young men. After all, the first time I saw them, the older one had you pinned to the wall and a knife at your throat!"
Mr. Fellows took a large swallow of his coffee and sighed dreamily. "What a man!"
Dorothea arched an eyebrow. "And the younger one? He's a sloucher!" In her book, slouching automatically relegated Cal to the category of Juvenile Delinquent.
He grinned wide. "Well then, Miss Dorothea: we shall have to rehabilitate young Cal. See to it he's kept busy, would you?"
"If you say so, Mr. Fellows. I'll keep my eye on him."