3. Making History
Characters: Nova, Tempest
Word Count: 301
"So you're a historian now, eh, Nova?" He said her name like it's a joke, and in a way it is. It wasn't her first name and surely wouldn't be her last.
"Is that any of your business, Lugia?" she responded with half-lidded eyes. She slid a stack of paper across the desk in between the hands resting on it. He glances at the leaves blankly with furrowed eyebrows.
"Oh come on now!" he said. "It's Tempest now. What if someone walked in?" He laughed nervously, holding his hands up limply.
"You'd be an idiot if you think I'd let anyone in my personal office," Nova told him with a click of her teeth. "And despite that oaf-ish façade you show everyone, I know you're actually quite intelligent. Take the papers. I know that's what you're here for."
Tempest gave her a coy smile. "Thank you."
"Birth certificate, social security paperwork…. It's all there. You're on the books."
He clutched the papers to his chest like a lifeline before tucking the entire bundle into his jacket. "Thanks, Dialga," he said sincerely, using her true name. "I owe you one."
"I would say it's for old-time's sake, but I don't lie for stupid reasons like that," Nova said. "You're a good man, Tempest. You deserve to live your life as you want. You owe me nothing."
Tempest fiddled with the wood on the edge of the desk absentmindedly, not knowing what to do with himself. He opened his mouth several times to give a response, but nothing came out. Finally, he settled with "You're a miracle worker, Nova. How do you do it?"
"What can I say?" the deity of time said. She crossed her legs before positioning a heel on the bottom drawer of her desk. "I'm good at making history."