Work Text:
Director Stratt’s voice comes loudly over the aircraft carrier’s intercom system.
“Dr. Grace, please come see me in my office. I repeat, Dr. Grace: please come see me in my office.”
At the sound of his name, Ryland looks up from his lab bench and at Carl, who stands close by watching him work.
“What’d you do this time?” Carl asks. Grace scoffs.
“Who says I did anything? Maybe she just wants the tea,” he replies. Carl laughs.
“One: you definitely did something that warrants getting called to the principal’s office. Two: I don't think you're using that term correctly.”
Carl turns to leave the lab with Grace hot on his heels.
“Maybe you don't actually know what it means,” Grace says. Carl laughs again.
“Sure.”
The two men enter Stratt’s office and she's already sitting behind her desk. Her hands are folded on the dark oak top and her back is as straight as a ruler. She looks serious, as usual, but Grace can tell that her jaw is tenser than usual. She nods to the two chairs in front of her desk and the two men sit.
“Dr. Grace, I hope you know why I called you here,” Stratt starts. Grace shrugs.
“Could be anything, really,” he answers. Stratt rolls her eyes and looks to Carl. He shrugs too.
“I hate to say it, but I agree with Grace,” Carl says. Stratt gets visibly more frustrated and types something into her computer.
“Grace, we have had this conversation before. You're not to engage with trolls on the internet.”
“Busted,” Carl says. It's Grace’s turn to roll his eyes.
“They're wrong and dumb and need someone to tell them to shut up,” he says. Stratt clears her throat.
“Do they also need you to tell them,” she reads off her computer: “that you are ‘quitting Project Hail Mary and hope that when the ice age starts [their] bitchass is the first to freeze to death’?”
“Damn,” Carl mutters.
“I stand by it,” Grace says with a nod.
“Do you stand by this tweet as well, posted just the next day: ‘Little shits on here will be like ooooh go do your taxes Bitch don't you have potty training to do leave the tweeting to adults who can read.’?”
Carl is fully laughing now; his shoulders shake and he tries to cough to cover it up. Stratt shoots him a look.
“Yes,” Grace replies.
“Okay. If I can't stop you, can you at least change your profile’s bio to something else? You really should never have put ‘opinions my own and also my employer’s.’” Stratt stands to shoo the men out of her office.
“I make no promises. And may I remind you that my pompous zeal is what convinced you to hire me in the first place?” Grace says as he exits behind Carl.
“No you may not. Now get back to work,” Stratt replies and shuts her office door.
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