Cammie & David

[x-maverick.livejournal.com]

David drops by the front desk to process Cammie as a new hire and manages to rope her into doing some work for him.



Cammie wasn't exactly buried in work. The front desk was, on the average day, so boring that it brought tears to her eyes. She did a bit of paperwork, answered and transferred phone calls (without swearing, even!) and then found herself with a lot of extra free time. She used that free time liberally. She still took college courses, so studying and doing homework was always a possibility, but eventually she'd run out of that too.

So right now, Cammie was playing Minecraft at the front desk, building something that looked suspiciously phallic while watching out for monsters.

There really was nothing suspicious about it, though. Not in David’s opinion. It was outright phallic. And he would have pointed it out, too, except that it probably was not the most polite of topics to bring up when meeting someone for the first time. Granted, the spy was not that big a stickler of social politeness most of the time.

“Having fun?” He asked instead, coming up from behind her and leaning casually against the counter. “I’ve heard that computer games can be mind-numbingly addictive.”

"Shh, they're trying to blow up my fucking tower," Cammie said holding up one hand and and trying to beat the cactus like...thing that had come out of nowhere before it took a large chunk of her wonderfully, horrible taste in architecture with it.

When that was done she paused it, "What the hell do you want?" she asked in a tone more inquisitive than rude.

In response, David thumped the folder in his other hand down on the counter and flipped it open to the first page. “Processing new hires,” he explained blandly, not too impressed with Cammie but not entirely bothered by it either. “Belated. But it needs to be done.” It was also rather difficult to conduct exit interviews with missing personnel, for that matter. “I’m David North from Human Resources.”

"Sweet, so I get to process myself," Cammie muttered, looking at the folder and up at him again, "Well, as long as human resources doesn't mean eating people, you never know around here."

She also was killing time with TV Tropes.

“Only in emergencies,” the spy quipped, not missing a beat. His expression did not even flicker. “And only as a last resort. Human meat is tough when not cooked well.” Fortunately for David, his skills in the kitchen were above average.

“Fill in the Hiring Form and leave out any unmentionable hobbies you may have. Such as playing Minecraft on the job and assassinating people at night.”

"Well, as long as it's only occasionally. And you should know that eating me would result in death," Cammie returned just as easily. "Doug's fault I play minecraft," she noted, looking over the form.

“So I’ve heard,” he agreed, recalling a certain interesting operation report. “Potentially unpleasant deaths aside, if you find yourself with too much time on your hands, I am sure there are things we could occupy you with.”

"What, you mean you ACTUALLY have work for me?" Cammie sounded shock, "No one has any work for me."

“I am resourceful like that,” David smirked, tapping the form. Although whether she would enjoy the work would be another matter altogether. “But first, the form.”

"Yeah, yeah, I'm getting on it," Cammie said, pulling out a pen, "What, no need to sign in blood? I'm surprised."

“I won’t stop you as long as your handwriting is legible.”

"Yeah, but then only I could handle the papers. Unless that was your goal all along. Sneaky," Cammie returned. It didn't take long to fill everything out and hand it back to him, "There we go. Now what is this mysterious work you mentioned?"

Accepting the file and glancing through it to check that Cammie had indeed filled on all the required fields, David pulled out a second piece of paper and handed it to her. It listed the benefits she would receive after her first three months of probation. That meant annual leave, medical services, insurance and the like. Mostly unnecessary given the real nature of the Centre, but it was good to keep up appearances. “How good are you with administrative work, Miss Black?”

"Good enough that I get stuck on a front desk," Cammie returned, looking over the next piece of paper, "I can keep track of shit pretty well if that's what you're asking."

“Excellent,” David grinned, a little cheekily but not uncharacteristically so. “Which would mean that you should be fantastic at sorting shit out. And you’ll be a quick study to manual filing and labelling.”

"Yeah, but what happens to the phone if I'm not here to answer it?" Cammie returned. She did do filing, sometimes. It was one of the worst tasks ever, even understanding that it had to be done on occasion, "And computers label crap."

“Don’t worry. I’ll do a personal delivery to the front desk, just for you,” David reassured her blithely. “You’ll just need to digitalise some of the backlogged paperwork.”

"Awww, you're so kind," Cammie said, "Well, some work is better than nothing."