"Henry Peter McCoy, I don't care if you're a hero or a genius you're still a disgrace to the filing system" He heard the words, muffled as they were through the door, before he remembered who it was. On opening the door an…odd sight met his eyes. The blond haired woman was sat on her desk, ignoring her chair which was piled high with papers, as she read over a thick handful of paper. She was dressed in a smart trouser suit of light blue, though the leg of one trouser had rode up nearly to her knee as she let her foot hang off the side of the desk, her other foot on top of the table as she leant her chin on her crooked knee, reading a paper she held in her hand. All of the filing cabinets were open, their contents strewn around the large room – on sofa's, coffee table, her desk…any available space but the floor was covered, "How can things beginning with 's' be filed under 'f', hmm? I suppose all genius's have their weak spots right?" She shook her head, stepping off the desk to place a thick wedge of paper in the file marked 'a'. He darted forward as he saw the pile wobble in her arms, catching it as she gasped, "Sir! I didn't know you were…um…would you like a cup of tea before you're twelve o'clock appointment?" She murmured, seemingly unembarrassed by the near catastrophe of paper,

"Yes please, Miss Caley," He glanced around the room again, "if you have the time"

"No problem, sir. This is actually all finished, except the piles on my chair, it just needs putting away" She gained control of the column of paper, starting to slip it into the filing cabinets, "how do you like it sir?" Hank paused in turning the handle of his office,

"Pardon?" He managed, despite the blush attacking his face,

"Your tea, sir?" She didn't look up, searching for something, "be…be…be be be be" She repeated under her breath,

"Oh, three sugars, no milk please" He murmured, she nodded solemnly though he could see a hint of laughter in her eyes as she closed a draw, "File 'b' is just here, Miss Caley" He tapped a stack of papers on the sofa beside him. She smiled and walked over and he couldn't help catching another breath of her scent, what was that?

"Thanks sir, so, you're a slice of lemon kinda guy then?" Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, "sorry if that overstepped the mark sir" he waved a hand,

"Don't worry. It's nice to have a secretary with a sense of humour" He smiled and slinked into his office, closing the door firmly behind himself. He felt his eyebrows rise as he realised how…tidy his desk was and the surrounding floor. Gone were the ancient Twinkie wrappers and cluttered files. He smiled - even his in and out tray had been sorted - as he sat down, logging on to his computer and briefly ignoring the huge stack of paper in his In tray. He scowled at the screen, flicking on his glasses before reaching out to the first piece of paper,

"Tea, sir" Isabelle murmured, settling the tray down on the desk. He nearly jumped out of his skin, never having heard her enter the room, "would you like to hear your appointments for today?" He groaned, unable to stop himself. If only they'd all leave him alone he could make some real inroads into his paperwork,

"Do I have too?" He murmured, reaching out for the tea almost desperately,

"It's not easy being popular" She said solemnly, pursing her lips a little to keep from smiling, he snorted in amusement, rubbing the back of his neck,

"Go on then, if you really must" He sighed, caving in. She lifted a clipboard,

"You've got a one o'clock with a Mr Farley, he's going to take up a lot of your time by the looks of it so you don't have another one until four which is a Miss…uh, Kilt, I took the liberty of moving today's six o'clock to tomorrows twelve as you have a talk to give at half past six at the New Academy, you're notes are in the left hand drawer second one down…think you can handle all that or shall I jig the day around so it's not quite so full?" She asked concern in her eyes. He smiled down at his papers, touched that she'd taken the time to rearrange his day so he wouldn't be too tired for the talk at the academy,

"No, Miss Caley, that will be fine, thank you" He murmured, setting the heavenly cup of tea back down,

"Sure?"

"Yes, thank you" He looked at her over the top of his glasses, "how long have you been here, Miss Caley, to orchestrate my office and the files so laudably?" She flushed a little, fiddling with the button on her cuff,

"Since nine, sir" She said innocently, the time she was supposed to start, "it's just the smell of ancient, half eaten, mouldy Twinkie's buried under piles of paperwork didn't seem very fitting for a minister of state, sir" She added, only the twitch of her lip giving away the laughter that wanted to bubble up, "hope you don't mind" He fought away laughter of his own, waving a hand at her,

"Oh get out" He chuckled despite himself, earning a warm -

"Yes sir" Before she padded silently away; "if you get hungry I relocated your Twinkie stash to the top drawer on your right…they were starting to melt behind the heater" She winked before closing the door. Hank smiled and shook his head at her audacity, yes, he could get used to Miss Caley.

She came in the next morning baring the usual tray and a smile, the days paper balanced precariously on the edge,

"Morning, sir, want to know your appointments?"

"Hit me" He murmured, fingers clicking across the keyboard as attempted to write a speech he was supposed to give at the senate. He glared accusingly at the screen before turning to her,

"You've got a twelve o'clock with Mr Morley, he's here to plead his case. Mr and Miss Tuckering are going to be here at three. Then you've got an appointment with the President at half past four and the lecture you wanted to attend at six which I suggest you skip because you're going to be really tired after and Senator Kelly wanted to drop by at seven" She chewed her lip, glaring at the clipboard in her hands, "I did try to move Mr and Miss Tucker to tomorrow but…" She trailed off with an apologetic look,

"Thank you, Miss Caley. I understand how stubborn the Tucker's are" He tapped his claws absently on his desk, "I don't suppose you know anything about molecular restructuring do you?"

"Er, no, sorry" She smiled a little, "having trouble?"

"Not really…just endeavouring to make it engaging" He smiled up at her over the top of his glasses, "there's nothing worse than someone snoring in the middle of Einstein's theory of relativity, don't you find? And biology down to the level of atoms is enough to send any hardcore scholar into a near coma…and I know the Dean of this particular University drools in his sleep" She laughed, perching on the edge of one of the nearby sofas,

"You seemed to do quite well last time I saw you-" She bit her lip, wincing a little as he raised an eyebrow. She sighed and rolled her eyes, "alright, you've caught me, Mr McCoy. I'm something of a fan of yours" He smiled, a little disbelieving, "what? You don't think I'd normally wait four hours for an interview, do you?"

"I did wonder" He sat back, ignoring the speech on the computer that blinked at him accusingly, "a fan" He murmured, amused at the idea,

"You came to my university, for a guest lecture on human-mutant biology. It was one of the most fascinating lectures I'd ever attended" Her eyes took on a glassy sheen for a moment,

"What was the university?" He asked,

"Mapleville" She shrugged, pulling a face, "the little tiny one, just outside-"

"Oh I remember…wasn't that the lecture where only eight people turned up?" He frowned, remembering the anti-mutant protests going on outside at the time. She returned the frown,

"I apologise for their behaviour…if they'd have come in rather than spent their time shouting stupid slogans they might have actually learnt something" She murmured angrily, Hank smiled at the conviction of her tone,

"I take it you don't follow this persecution trend?" He asked, unable to keep the amused tone from his voice. If he was true with himself he was quite touched,

"As if it's your fault in the first place" She huffed, fiddling with the edge of the paper on her clipboard,

"Odd that your not brainwashed really, in a town that seemed so antagonistic towards mutants" He prodded gently at the subject that had been bothering him for some time. She frowned, tearing the paper between her fingers,

"Three of my five brothers are mutants, Mr McCoy" She gave him a lopsided smile, "I don't have much of a choice" Hank felt his eyebrows rise a little in surprise, "and I didn't tell you before because, in the current political climate, it's not something one wishes to wave about" He laughed,

"As if I would mind?" He gestured to himself, earning a bit of a giggle from her,

"You know what I mean" She shrugged, standing up from the arm of the sofa and glancing at the clock, "good luck with the speech sir, you've got half an hour to perfect it before your first appointment" She closed the door softly behind her and Hank stared at the screen…odd that there should only be three mutants in her family...he wondered briefly if her parents were before he sighed,

"Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more" And began typing once more…