CHAPTER 19
Veracia was downright wrathful when the Councilors insisted Rosemary take a few days off to 'recuperate' from her 'harrowing ordeal'. She had a mountain of paperwork to work through, he argued – their files were deplorably out-of-date. Hadn't her 'vacation aboard the Normandy' been 'vacation, enough?!', he had spluttered. Their efficiency was down thirty percent! It was a rare occurrence, but Rosemary happened to agree with her ornery boss. She hadn't been hurt in the gang skirmish – she was perfectly fine! So she ended up staying at home, as they had ordered her to, but she didn't waste that valuable time with 'resting'.
Nuni sent over stacks of notes for her to transcribe into reports, soothing Veracia's great anger. He had actually seemed grateful when Rosemary had insisted on doing her work from home, Nuni had revealed. She found she worked better in the comfort at her own home. She wandered around the townhouse for a long time in her pajamas, working on reports, helping Oliver with his homework, and playing and reading with Keeya.
Keeya was getting more confident by the day. Rosemary thought it had something to do with Oliver having retained the krogan toughness Keeya had given him that one time. Oliver was an UEF like her, only not being an adult, he hadn't been able to retain anything but hard, plate-like skin. However, with toughened skin, he was able to rough-house with Keeya more often, much to the toddler's glee. Knowing that she couldn't really hurt her new brother had given her the confidence to express herself more – and these days, she expressed herself by pouncing on anyone she could from the shadows – much to the C-Sec guards' dismay. No wonder Keeya adored Balint so; from what she'd seen, Rosemary knew he could physically handle her strength as well.
Rosemary settled into the living room's couch to go over the list of coffee shop applicants Balint had given her. Tross, the newest addition to the townhouse security team, looked over her shoulder.
"What's that," he asked.
"Balint gave me a list of possible help for the coffee shop," she explained, biting into an apple. She chewed and swallowed before expressing her amazement. "I don't know how he got so many people to apply in such a short amount of time. I'm grateful though; Imitha has been breathing down my neck to get more help. I wonder how he did it, though..."
"Terror tactics," the batarian said plainly.
"You're joking."
Tross' four eyes blinked. "Why? What's Fortem like with you?"
Rosemary thought about it. "Well... he's flirty." Or rather, he used to be, anyway. "Easygoing, kind," she said, thinking about how he was with the kids.
The batarian snorted. "You're joking. Fortem is the meanest son of a bitch on the force."
Rosemary couldn't believe it. "No. That's Veracia."
The batarian barked out a laugh. "You got me there. But no, Veracia's bad – but he's prejudiced. He plays favorites – so he's nice to somebody. He's easy to read. Now, Fortem? He's hard on everyone. Knows just how to intimidate the hell out of anyone – be it a punch to the face, or a hellish transfer. He once stuck me on patrol on the roof of the Presidium for questioning him – I don't know how the bastard knew my fear of heights. You don't even want to know how many of us he's punched in the face. I think it's his thing. Real physical, that one."
Rosemary remembered Balint gutting the Divide gangster from the other day. She had wondered to why he just hadn't used his gun. Yeah, he was physical all right. Wonder what he's like in bed, she thought before she could stop herself. Her face feeling flushed, Rosemary tried to distract the officer by saying, "I wouldn't expect a sniper to be so... hot-headed."
Tross shrugged. "Oh, he has a temper. But he doesn't lash out really – that's not his way. He waits, plots, and then takes you out, exacting maximum suffering. He's ruthless." He almost sounded admiring of his superior's brutish ways. "He's only been like that since his partner left the force, though. Before that, he was actually approachable."
"His partner?"
"Yeah, one of the Citadel heroes: Garrus Vakarian. Garrus couldn't stand the office politics. Don't blame him for leaving. Fortem turned into a hard-ass when he left, though. Got into a lot of fights. Bailey finally stuck him on guard duty for the Councilors – until you came along."
Rosemary realized that she didn't really know Balint all that well, hearing all of this. Also, hearing that Garrus, her friend-with-benefits, had been partners with Balint, someone she was getting feelings for – made her want to bash her head into the wall. All this – GOD – DAMN – DRAMA! She masked her inner shrieking with an idly curious expression she directed on Tross. "If he's so feared – how did he get this list of people for me?"
"All he needed to do was walk around here," Tross told her. "A few of us have family or friends that need jobs. He didn't ask for names, though – he demanded them. And we know better than to refuse Fortem."
Huh. Rosemary returned her attention to the list. You learn something new every day...
XOXOXOXO
She finally decided to take a few hours off from her work. Accompanied by three officers, Rosemary, Oliver, and Keeya took a Rapid Transit skycar to the Crucible – to relax in the renowned Shepard Park.
It wasn't a park, they realized, but a district easily the size of a single Citadel arm – entirely devoted to the cultivation of grass, trees, and the occasional bench. Rosemary was no botanist, but she was fairly sure all the greenery she was seeing were not all native to Earth. She recognized an apple tree here and there, and maybe a rosebush, but she also saw a bush with glowing nuts, a section of curling, purple grass, and trees with shining, jet-black trunks. All of it was so intricately and artistically entwined as to create a lush marvel of alien landscapes. She breathed in the multitude of floral, bitter, and green scents, alighting her senses with wonder.
Right smack in the middle of the 'park' was a gigantic statue of none other than Emma Shepard herself... looking very dashing and heroic. Oliver was impressed, though slightly critical. "It looks like Shepard, but everyone knows she didn't wear the standard N7 armor much. In almost all the vids, she's wearing Serrice Council."
One of their guards shook their heads, grinning at her brother's disappointed tone. Rosemary felt like shaking her head herself. It was hard to satisfy kids these days. They were standing under a giant statue of his hero – shouldn't that have been enough? Keeya wasn't really interested in the statue – more in the bugs at her feet. She laughed gleefully, chasing insects out of the grass.
Rosemary took out the blanket she had brought and laid it out in the shade of a purple-leaved tree. She had brought enough meat pies for everyone – much to everyone's dismay. Sighing, she confessed that Imitha had baked the pies – then everyone's expression turned happy and they dug in with gusto. They spent a pleasurable hour eating and talking. The guards tried not to look too relaxed and content as they watched Oliver and Keeya dart around the green, running their hearts out. Rosemary gathered up the trash and was putting away the one pie that was left over when her eyes fell on the luxury housing across the way... She remembered Imitha mentioning that her father had bought Garrus a condo near Shepard Park. She wondered where the Normandy was now...
"I hope you enjoyed your repast, Fletcher."
The guards stood to attention as Councilor Eastment approached, his own set of guards following behind him. Rosemary caught one of them glaring at one of their guards, one of their fellow C-Sec officers, with... envy? Then she remembered that they had just enjoyed a picnic in a park – while Eastment's guards had probably spent all day... guarding. She fought back a smile.
Somehow Councilor Eastment retained his authoritative air in casual clothes. Well, a casual suit anyway. Maybe it's the ascot. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here, Councilor?"
Councilor Eastment arched a brow at her suspicious tone. He got straight to the point. "We have work to do, Fletcher."
"It's my day off," she argued.
"You're an adult now," he scolded. ", and a bureaucrat. There's no such things as 'days off'," he said, half seriously.
He must have her confused with someone else. "I'm a secretary and a manager of a coffee shop – hardly a bureaucrat."
"Not anymore."
"What?"
Eastment looked around them, at the magnificent landscapes, studiously avoiding her narrowed gaze. His voice was casual as he informed her, "Your official titles are now Clerical Manager at Citadel Security, General Manager of... what was it... Wakey Brews, and Head Administrator at the Center for Synthesis Research."
NO. She already had two jobs! "I'm afraid I must decline -"
The Councilor ignored her. "The Center for Synthesis Research is the heart of the new development. … If you want anyone to blame – blame yourself and Balint Fortem."
"What?"
"We – the Council – would have preferred you take residence in the development, but Fortem convinced us not to remove you from your present abode. He believed the lives of your family has been uprooted enough, and in his words 'She loves the townhouse. Let her stay there, for crying out loud'."
Rosemary felt warmth for Balint at hearing that, but she still didn't want what he was offering. Then again, from his tone, it wasn't an offer. He was merely informing her on what had been decided for her. She had to fight it, though. "Head Administrator? That sounds like a job that requires a few degrees. I don't even have a college education!"
Eastment inclined his head, conceding her point. "Experience is your resume. You have proven yourself more than capable of handling extreme situations..."
The truth hit her. Her eyes narrowed once again. "You don't have anyone else, do you?"
Eastment cleared his throat. "... No. No, we don't." Her look insisted on further explanation, and he felt compelled to oblige her in this. "We... need someone who can handle the excess flow of energy from hybrids – and you are the only UEF that we know of. Well, you and your brother. And you have clearance."
Rosemary didn't like what she was hearing – and understanding. "So... less Head Administrator, more... backup battery?"
"... Yes."
XOXOXOXO
Author's Note: Thank you everyone for your comments! They keep me inspired to keep writing! Also, sorry for all the typos. Been focused on speed, rather than grammar. I am slightly ashamed at myself for that. But... I promise to go back over and edit as soon as the story's done! Hope everyone understands! :3
