Chapter Text
“Aw, come on, man. That’s just not right.”
Unsuur looked up curiously from where he stood, reaping the benefits of being the first to have walked in the office: occupying the prime spot in front of the only working fan. The fan was old and overworked, but in the stagnant, muggy air, it was better than nothing. The year had been brutal so far; all blazing sun and no clouds in sight. The sun’s rays currently pierced through the dirty windows of the civil corps building, highlighting stray dust particles that danced and swirled in the artificial breeze.
It also highlighted the sour expression Justice currently wore.
He watched as two beads of sweat raced lazily down the other man’s forehead, who had foolishly not booked it straight for the fan, as he sifted through the small pile of packages sitting across from him on the other end of the desk. There were only three, but Justice did not seem to find what he was looking for, as the man slapped one off the desk petulantly with a curse.
“Fine work, sir. They’ll certainly think twice about acting up again after that.”
Justice scowled at him, and slapped another package off. “Don’t start with me, you’re fixin’ to be next.” For good measure he kicked the two boxes out of the way as he maneuvered around the desk and shooed Captain out of the only chair. Captain huffed but obliged. Even he had to respect the rank. The cat jumped onto the desk instead, apparently taking inspiration from Justice, as he reached brazenly over to the last package and pushed it off the ledge without even a moment's hesitation.They both watched it hit the floor with a sad, dusty thump. He understood. Such was life. Had to take control of the situations you could.
What he didn’t understand is why Justice reached over and snatched the fan, turning it around and pointing it at himself. That was a low blow. “Now tell me what you’re bribin’ the new builder with to get her to accept all your commissions. I’ve been waitin’ three damn weeks for some canvas and it’s still posted up on the board, untouched!”
“Sir?”
Bribery was a crime, Justice knew that. He was a member of the Civil Corp, didn’t that mean anything? Last he checked, that meant he couldn’t be a criminal. But he did suppose that Justice knew him best. Maybe he was bribing the builder, he had definitely noticed that his commissions had been getting accepted and completed much faster than when Mason was here. Not that he was surprised. He had seen Mason walk up to the board many times in the last few years, take a single glance at it, and leave without taking a single one. He wasn’t sure Mason had done a single commission he wasn’t forced to do in quite some time.
But just yesterday the new builder had flagged him down as he patrolled the tracks in front of the workshop.
“Hey!”
He looked up, rubbing his wrist absently, startled out of his wandering thoughts as he made the same loop around the town that he had been making for years. The builder stood inside her yard, leaning forward on the fence, waving a small bag at him as she called out to him.
“Hey! You’re Unsuur, right?”
He diverted from his route, and made his way to a more respectable conversational distance. Yelling wasn’t really his thing.
“Hello. Yes. Is that for me?”
The builder held out her offering, smiling. “Yeah, I, uh– I saw you posted a commission for some opals? I happened to have some laying around, so…”
“Thanks. I needed these for stuff.”
She continued to smile, her eyebrows knitting together faintly, as the silence between them dragged out for a few beats. He should probably explain.
He doesn’t.
“Oh. Um. Good.” She pauses, again, turning red the longer they stare at each other, “I think.”
“Come on, seriously! All of those packages are for you! And I know she just delivered some more stuff to you a couple days ago. What kind of arrangement do y’all have, and can I get in on it? My uniform needs repair, man, I need that canvas.”
He thinks about it for a minute, staring at the packages that litter the floor. The sheriff was right, he couldn’t deny it. All those packages were for him, with “Unsuur” written in hasty script across the tops. From the sizes and shapes of the packages, he could tell it was his own personal orders of canvas, a new mask for sandstorms, and the spinel he’d requested on a whim. He was excited for that last one. He just thought they were neat.
“If you must know, sir, the arrangement is that I put my requests on the board, she fills them, and then I pay her. It’s a pretty good arrangement,” He allows the pencil to hit him in the shoulder, launched by Justice, and leans down to scoop the packages off the floor. He had a couple hours off until his next patrol, he should probably take these home.
He leaves the pencil.
That was for taking the fan.
Justice just groans and settles back into the chair again, forlorn, absently picking at the flaking leather. “I swear. I should just have you sign your name on all the requests from now on. I’d have it all by the end of the day.”
Then he stops.
“Sheriff,” Unsuur begins, already knowing the next words out of his superior’s mouth.
“I should have you sign your name on all the requests from now on.” Justice grins, sitting up and snapping open random drawers until he finds a particularly sad looking piece of paper. Justice snaps his fingers in Unsuur’s direction impatiently, and he frowns.
He picks up the pencil and gives it to the other man. Dangit.
“Sheriff,” He tries, again, but it’s clear his protests are falling on deaf ears now. Justice is busy writing his list, and he doubts he’ll discourage the man’s idea now.
He doesn’t really think the builder is going out of her way to do his commissions first, right? He’s there early most mornings when he needs something, it’s part of his route, after all, and it’s something they have in common. The builder seems to be early to rise and eager to work. It would stand to reason she’d take his commissions; hard to take the ones that weren’t posted yet. Besides, he barely knew her. Their first meeting had been when she had given him those opals, guessing who he was off his uniform. Other than a quick “Hi, bye” as she rushed about her day, he didn’t have much interaction with her other than accepting his commissions.
“Here you go. This is what I need. Do me a favor and go post this up on the board on your next patrol. Don’t forget to sign your name!”
Unsuur takes the paper, only slightly put out, but he sighs when he sees what the other man has written down.
“I could just give you some of my canvas, sir. It’s not that big of a deal.” His eyes scan the paper, and he frowns. He isn’t sure the builder even has a garden, why is Justice asking for coffee beans? He could just buy them from Owen like everyone else.
“Nope,” Justice says, “This is the beauty of bein’ the sheriff and you bein’ the deputy in training . I just want to see if she’ll do it, and I’m forbiddin’ you from tellin’ her the truth. Now go on, get. Those purchases are goin’ to need some paperwork, and I’m just the man for the job.”
There is a pause when Unsuur just stares at him, unimpressed, “You’re not even going to pay for the commissions.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Nope. That’s a job for city hall, I don’t wear this uniform for fun.” Justice says, again, and then makes a shooing motion with his hands.
“Fine.”
He cradles his packages in one hand, paper held between his fingers, and the other hand propping open the door. “But you’re gonna do it by yourself. Come on, Captain, let’s go hunt down those mice in the Blue Saloon.”
Captain jumps down and trots through the door, forgoing his usual ‘shall i go or shall i stay?’ theatrics in the doorway, in solidarity with Unsuur. Even the deputy knew this was bullshit. Unsuur hadn’t been an errand boy in years.
Justice decides to ignore it when the door swings shut, and he hears something about “not in my contract” and “forming a union.”
He wasn’t worried. Captain couldn’t read or hold a pen.