Something jangles the knob of her office door. The Chief looks up, pen mid-stroke upon the paper in front of her. When the door quietly swings open, the woman grips the pen a little harder.
"Detective."
He stands in the doorway, one hand on the door knob whilst the other retrieves its key from his dinner jacket. Her eyes track upward from polished black shoes to the pristine white of the man's dress shirt.
"What's the occasion?"
He looks at her for a long moment. "You really did forget."
The man pushes the door shut behind him. The click of the latch is resounding in the thick silence. The key turns purposefully in the lock and the man returns his gaze to the Chief.
"What day is it today, Lin?"
She stares at him. He does not blink and Lin swallows hard.
"Birthday," she says quietly.
The man walks over to the desk she sits behind, enveloped in lamp light. He takes a seat beside the woman, sitting on the edge of the desk with one leg crossed over the other. Lin presses her teeth together and resumes her penmanship.
"Detective, this isn't the time."
He sets a hand carefully to her wrist. "What is the time, Lin?"
She takes a deep breath and looks up at the clock, fixed to wall beside the door. "Nine thirty-six."
"I'm not 'Detective' any longer, am I?"
"...No, sir."
He slides his hand up to the pen wrapped in her fingers, and removes it. Lin squeezes the pads of her fingers into her palm.
"Nine thirty-six," the man says. "Today, of all days."
"I'm sorry, sir."
He sets the pen down beside her hand. "Look at me."
Lin tilts her chin upwards. His eyes are narrow, shadows where lamp light cannot reach playing across sharp features.
"What was our agreement?"
"I would finish work on time today."
"And?"
Lin swallows. "And I would be home by seven thirty."
The man gestures to his dinner jacket. "I was ready, and waiting. You made me wait, Lin. How do I feel about waiting?"
"You don't like it, sir."
He reaches for the sheaf of paper under her hands. "Let's see what you made me wait for, shall we?"
Lin pushes down on it with her wrists. The man drags it from under them all the same. She stares resolutely at the opposite wall while he flips through the document. Her stomach clenches when he starts to laugh.
"Really," the man chuckles, eyes tracking down the report. "Really."
Lin flinches when he throws it onto the floor. "I'm sorry -"
"You aren't. Not yet." The man finds his feet. "Stand up."
The feet of her chair eventually drag against the floor as her straightened legs push it backward.
"Trousers. Down."
Her eyes snap to him. "Not here, Mako -"
He grabs her chin. "Right here."
"Someone will see," she hisses.
"It's just you and I in this godforsaken building," Mako tells her. "You're making me wait, Lin."
His glare is like a magnet; even still, her eyes flit to the office door and the square pane of glass set into it.
Mako lets go of her chin when Lin reaches for the waistband of her uniform. She tugs it down past her hips, cheeks warm under the heat of Mako's gaze.
"More," he tells her.
Lin whines in her throat.
"More."
Her trousers slide down to her knees. There is no armour to bend out of the way, only the hem of an untucked shirt which Mako grabs and lifts. Lin rubs her naked thighs together, glancing at the door.
"Mako, please."
He puts a hand between her shoulders. "Bend over. Hands on the desk."
He flips her shirt tails up onto her back when Lin complies. Her underwear is plain and comfortable; Mako pulls at the waistband of it and tuts. Lin closes her eyes in shame.
"I'm going to spank you," he tells her then, "and you're going to count. Let's remind you how old you are. Understand?"
Lin curls her fingernails into the desk. "Yes, sir."
Smack!
"Ow!"
"I said, count."
He spanks her again, open-handed.
"Two!"
"Start again."
Lin blanches and looks over her shoulder. "Why?"
"You didn't count the first one."
She whines. Mako spanks her, hard.
"One! One!"
"Good girl."
He alternates between her cheeks, one hand flat on Lin's back. Her bottom smarts something fierce, Lin's hands compressed into fists and her arms tensed like coiled springs.
"Thirty!" she hisses between clenched teeth.
Mako takes pause. Lin gasps into the silence.
"Are we done?" he asks.
Lin shakes her head.
He swats her bottom. "Use your words."
"No sir!"
Mako pulls at her large panties. "I should burn these. Get them out of my way."
His hand is an iron weight between her shoulders when Lin tries to stand tall. "Stay down."
She awkwardly reaches back, wriggling out of her underwear. With a whisper, they slip to her knees together with her grey trousers.
"What number are we on?" Mako asks.
"Thirty, sir."
SMACK!
"Thirty one!"
SMACK!
"Thirty two!"
There is nothing to defend her from Mako's blows except her own hands. The desk jolts when she stamps her feet and tries to cover herself.
"What are you doing, Lin?"
"Please, sir," she sobs. "Please, it hurts."
"As it should," he growls.
SMACK!
"Oww!"
"Count!"
"Thirty seven! Ow! Thirty eight, thirty eight!"
Mako pauses. Lin's trembling hands are pressed to her bottom, her forehead bowed to the desk.
"I will start from the beginning, if you don't move your hands."
Lin closes her eyes, breathing hard.
"Five," Mako says. "Four. Three…"
She brings her hands back to the desk, curling her fingers over her thumb and squeezing.
"Keep them there."
SMACK!
Mako pauses once more when Lin screams forty-five. She is gasping for air, a lump of rock in her throat when she swallows. That's when she hears the jangling of a belt buckle. Her eyes dart to look, and Lin watches as Mako tugs said belt out of the loops of her trousers.
She starts to cry.
Mako strokes her red-hot bottom. "Six left, Lin."
One.
The belt stripes both cheeks at once. Lin startles and jolts the desk again.
Two.
She howls, knees locking out as her thighs shudder.
Three.
The belt whistles down, a thick loop of white-hot pain.
Four.
Lin's scream gurgles in her throat, the number she counts barely recognisable.
Five.
Mako grunts into it, whipping the belt through the air.
Six!
Lin hears a woman bawling. Her whole body is wracked with choked sobs. Behind her, Mako breathes heavy, tossing Lin's belt down onto the desk.
"Stand up," he tells her.
It takes her a while. Heat blooms from her buttocks, sharp and prickly. She can't see – her vision swims with tears and her lips taste like salt.
"Hands on your head."
She complies. Mako crouches down and tugs first her panties, then her trousers back into place. Reaching around her, he collects Lin's belt and fits it into its loops. Then, with a heavy hand on her shoulder, Mako forces the woman down into her chair.
Lin grimaces, hissing as her bottom touches the seat.
"Quiet," Mako barks. "Sit as I've taught you."
Her stomach tight with uncried tears, Lin brings her knees together, folds her hands into her lap and pulls back her shoulders. Tears drip down her cheeks as she stares straight ahead. Mako re-takes his seat on her desk.
"Look at me."
It takes her a while. Lin sniffs, breathing noisily from her mouth. Her hands tremble in her lap. Every fiber of her being feels tense. Mako's eyes search hers.
"What do you want to do, Lin?" he asks.
"Fight," she whispers hoarsely.
"Then I'm not through with you, am I?"
Lin shakes her head.
"I will slap the words out of your mouth," Mako growls.
"No. Sir."
SMACK!
Lin gasps, her face turned aside by Mako's left hand.
"Careful with your tone, woman."
Her tears flow fresh, muscle pulsing along Lin's jaw as Mako slides off the edge of her desk.
"Tidy this away," he tells Lin, gesturing to the mass of documents spread in front of her. "We're leaving."