A/N: Sorry for the delay, but I was travelling and didn't get much time for writing. Big thanks to those reading and do feel free to let me know what you think!

6. Rookie

Mondays were always hard after a weekend off, getting back to the everyday drudge.

It seemed that, while Friday could leave you feeling smug next to the poor saps who'd been landed with weekend shifts, you inevitably ended up envying them come Monday - when they could put the place firmly in the rear view, even as it loomed in front of you.

At least, Luschek thought as he parked up in his usual spot and removed his motorcycle helmet, he finally had his unfortunate cashflow hitch ironed out. Having secured the return of his impounded bike, he no longer had to blag a lift with whoever happened to be going his way. Although, somehow managing to sleep through his alarm did mean he'd still had to forego taking time to fix himself a sneaky little liquored-up caffeine boost. He hung his head at that thought, trying to muster up the energy if not quite enthusiasm to just make it through the day ahead.

"Joel? Hey, I thought that was you …"

Looking up at the call from across the parking lot, he realised it had totally slipped his mind that this would be their new counsellor's first proper day at Litchfield. And he was even more surprised to see her holding out one of the two large, steaming takeaway cups she was carrying.

"Just a little Colombian something-something to perk ya up," Dallas grinned. "As promised."

Damn, it was all he could do to be awake and feeling more or less human first thing and here she was, all bright smiles and positive vibes in her tight white jeans, chambray shirt and yellow blazer.

"Well, aren't you a little ray of sunshine?" Luschek said, finding himself smiling as he took the proffered coffee and tried a sip. Definitely the good shit. "Thanks. You didn't have to."

"Meh, I was passing the place anyway and I seriously needed some kind of kick-start," the little blonde said, with a shrug. "Late night."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as they fell into step beside each other on the way into the main prison building. He was suddenly curious about her life and the kind of person she really was behind the usual newbie bid to make a good impression – a rookie mistake in his book, setting the bar too high from the get-go. "In a good way, or …"

She chuckled at that. "Now I wish I had some great depraved tale of hedonistic debauchery for you. But nope, definitely nothing that exciting. Just a lot of paperwork to catch up on. How lame am I?"

"Pretty lame," he deadpanned, letting her go first through the body scanner and then catching up again to laugh at her look of mock-outrage. "Kidding."

"Hey, if I'm lame, let's hear it then – how was your weekend? Just twenty-four-seven party time? All sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll?" Dallas teased.

Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll.

He realised he probably looked caught at that, taking too long to wonder to himself whether to front it out to seem like less of a loser or tell the truth. Actually, the truth was probably not a great idea, but some semblance of it would do. He quickly decided he really didn't want to confess to this gorgeous woman who, in an unlikely twist of his usual run of luck, was now his colleague that the only action like that he'd seen in weeks had involved his own right hand, a joint or two, and watching Caputo's band of misfits. Not at the same time, he hastily added even in his own mind with an inner shudder. Jesus.

"Uh, it was okay," Luschek managed. "Watched a lot of sport, drank a few beers. You know how it is. Can't go wild all the time."

"Still sounds way better than mine," the counsellor smiled, seeming to know exactly the score but letting him off the hook. "Well, enjoy the coffee. I guess I gotta go find this new office of mine. Catch you later? Hey, maybe lunchtime, so I don't have to be the loser sat on my own on my first day?"

"Sure," he nodded, taken aback all over again that she seemed to actually want to hang out with him, before catching himself checking out her ass as she left.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sexy as hell, a nice person, and happy to spend time with him … There had to be a catch. What the fuck was wrong with her?

"Yo, Luschek, you're drooling!"

Fuck, he actually fell for it and checked, before turning a scowl on Nicky's mischievous face. "Very funny, inmate. Now move it along."

"Not until you tell me the score with Blondie. I'm hearing on the grapevine she might be Healy's replacement. Fuck, that's a serious upgrade right there if that's the case."

"Dal- Miss Ford's the new counsellor," he admitted. "Happy now?"

"Fucking A," Nicky beamed. "Where do I sign up? And Miss Ford, huh? You gonna make her call you Officer Luschek when you try getting her to spread those legs?"

He started to tell her to shut up, only to cut himself off. "You really think I could?"

Both his eyes and Nicky's widened, as they realised at the same time that he'd inadvertently confirmed his interest in the newest member of Litchfield's staff. She didn't answer his question, but her peals of laughter seemed to follow him as he stomped off down the hall to Electrical.

Setting her bag, her stack of paperwork and her coffee down on her new desk, Dallas looked around the room and sighed. It could be worse, she supposed. At least it was a fairly big office and it had windows, so it was light and airy. That was about as good as it got though. There was the desk and a chair and a computer and a phone and … That was it. Nothing but four magnolia walls.

"Maybe it's a security thing," she mused, wondering if that really could be it. If she wasn't allowed anything but the basics as inmates would have access to the space. But no, that couldn't be right. Caputo and Fig would both have prisoners visit their offices and they each seemed to have plenty of clutter and personal possessions around them. Hell, the inmates working in the kitchen and in the workshop had access to all sorts of knives and tools!

She wasn't an officer though. Maybe that made a difference. Maybe she wasn't supposed to be alone with inmates exposed to anything that they could use as a weapon. It wasn't like she had handcuffs or pepper spray or a baton if things turned nasty. She didn't even have a radio to call for help, although she had been told there was a panic button easily accessible on the wall and another hidden beneath her desk.

"I gotta at least get a plant or something," Dallas said, still talking to herself under her breath. "I'm supposed to be helping these women, not making them more depressed …"

She broke off to look around in confusion as something dawned on her. Jesus, there wasn't even anywhere for anyone else to sit. What was she supposed to do, conduct counselling sessions with inmates sat on the floor? Sitting down on her own chair, she shook her head in disbelief as she reached for the phone with one hand and tried to turn on the computer with the other. While she heard the dial tone in her ear, there was nothing happening with the computer, making her check it was plugged in properly.

"For fuck sake," she muttered. Her first appointment was supposed to be in a half-hour. She perched on the edge of the desk as she grabbed the phone again, dialling the easy to remember 007 internal extension for Caputo's office. She'd bet good money he'd been the one to choose that for himself.

"Ah, Joe, good morning – it's Dallas," she started when he finally picked up. "Yeah, just getting settled in, thanks. It's about that actually. I, um, don't seem to have anywhere for anyone to sit in my office. There's just one desk chair … I mean, I really could do with like a couch or a couple of comfy chairs. Nothing too fancy obviously, but informal would help. Oh, and there seems to be something up with the computer. There's no power, so maybe a fuse blown … Yes, it's definitely plugged in properly … Uh, sure, I can call him. Do you have the extension for Electrical? 021? Got it. And the guards, they have my appointment list, yeah? So I can expect the inmates to just be sent on up? That's great. Thanks again. And yes, I'll check in later. Bye now."

Rolling her eyes at Caputo's well-meaning effort to somehow both rescue the damsel in distress and yet avoid having to supply any practical help himself, she tilted her head back and closed her eyes for a second. She wasn't exactly off to the most auspicious of starts. Still, it was hardly her fault Litchfield was ill-prepared for her arrival. It wasn't like they hadn't known she was coming.

Dallas reached for her now cooling coffee and took a long sip, savouring the taste before grabbing the phone again. "Hey, new buddy of mine," she said brightly, when she got a gruff answer. "Wanna come check out my new office? Gotta warn ya, I do have an ulterior motive …"

Luschek had to admit all that talk from the new counsellor of an ulterior motive for calling him had encouraged his mind to wander into decidedly unprofessional territory. Even so, it was little wonder he ended up stood in the doorway of her office, initially lost for words and failing miserable in his admittedly half-hearted efforts to not stare at her denim-clad ass – given that it was pretty much all he could see of her, half hidden as she was under her desk.

He tried clearing his throat to get her attention. "Uh, you know it's traditional to sit at the desk, not under it?"

He felt bad the second she sat up startled and promptly banged her head on the underside of said desk.

"Shit!" she swore.

"Shit," he echoed, going to see if he could help. "You okay? Sorry, didn't mean to make you jump …"

"I'm fine," Dallas insisted, brushing off his apology as she clambered to her feet and dusted down the knees of her white jeans. "God, why do they put the sockets in such stupid places? I think there's a fuse blown in the plug of the computer. There's no power, so I was trying to unplug it to see."

"I'll take a look for you," Luschek offered. "This is probably the last thing you need on your first day."

"Exactly," she nodded. "Thanks, Joel. I'm sure you've got enough on your plate too without me adding to it."

"Nah, it's cool. Gets me out of the workshop for a bit," he said, trying not to flush like he had when he'd had to leave Nicky in charge, telling her the new counsellor needed his help.

His wild-haired charge had simply raised one eyebrow sky-high while shooting him a filthy grin. "The kind of help that requires use of your tool?" she'd asked, before elaborating just in case the crude innuendo was somehow too subtle to make her point. "Like sticking it in her twat? Like I'm using tool as a play on words here when I actually mean your dick …"

"Shut the fuck up, Nichols," he'd muttered, but it hadn't been nearly enough to wipe away that lecherous smirk of hers.

Right now though, Dallas looked far too anxious to have anything but the problem in hand on her mind. More's the pity. But he got to work, trying to find out what was wrong with her computer. At least it did seem to be electrical rather than anything IT related, so at least he had a decent shot at being able to fix it. Probably.

"Sorry," she piped up. "It's probably not helping having me hovering over you. I just really wanted to be on top of things today …"

Luschek could practically see Nicky's grin widen as he imagined her hearing the counsellor talking about being on top of anything. She never could get her mind out of the gutter. Although it wasn't like he was much better. He tried to shake those thoughts out of his own head and stay focused.

"Don't worry," he called back over his shoulder. "This shouldn't take long. When's your first appointment again?"

"Uh, in about fifteen minutes. I've got a Mercy Valduto coming in."

"Valduto? You sure?"

"Positive. I know she didn't experience what went on here during the riot, but I thought I'd start with her since she's just going through the trauma of being returned to Litchfield after a previous release. And I understand she was very close to one of the girls who died here, Tricia Miller-"

"Yeah, I get that," Luschek frowned. "But I doubt you're gonna be able to see her today. She's in SHU. They don't let them out of there for anything except a medical emergency."

"What? She's in solitary? Why would they do that? She's going to be going through enough right now …"

"I dunno what she's in for. I'm kinda outta the loop when it comes to the details," he said. "Who else is on your list for today?"

"Uh …" Dallas reached for her paperwork and pulled a list from the top of the pile. "Suzanne Warren?"

"She's back in Psych. She's … Uh, they call her Crazy-Eyes. I'll let you read between the lines on that one."

"Alex Vause?"

"Medical. Broken arm. Getting her cast changed apparently."

"Galina Reznikov?"

"Who? Oh, Red. Don't think she's come back up the hill from Max yet. Although I guess she could have last night, or be scheduled for later today …"

At her silence, Luschek quickly finished swapping the fuse over with a spare he'd had in his pocket and clambered out from beneath the desk himself, finding Dallas stood by the window with her arms folded.

"This is fucking bullshit," she muttered, rounding on him with a dangerous spark in those clear green eyes. "You think I should believe it's just coincidence all the inmates on my list just happen to not be available?"

"I … I dunno. You think it's deliberate? I mean, why would someone hire you if they weren't going to let you do your job?"

"Box-ticking exercise?" Dallas suggested hotly. "Fuck ... No, d'ya know what? Fuck this. Hey, Joel? Which way to SHU?"

"Why, what you gonna do?"

There was a hard look of determination written all over her face when she answered him.

"Keep my appointments."

To be continued ...