Work Text:
What’s in the Box?
“Riley, be a good boy and grab that box for me, would you?”
“Copy that.” Riley went to pick up the freshly delivered box wedged in her office doorway. It was enormous.
He pulled a face. His legs wobbled under him like a newborn calf’s. “Where should I put this?” He rasped out.
“Put it underneath my desk. Riley, are you alright? Your face is red.”
“I'm fine. Totally fine,” he insisted, staggering towards the desk. The box slipped from his fingers, smacking the floor with a whap!
“Please be careful with that!” Maggie admonished.
“Sorry. What's in it anyway? I’ve lifted subterresitals twice my size who weighed less.” He rubbed his left shoulder blade. He clearly needed to hit the gym harder than usual this week. He couldn’t let himself go soft, not in his line of work.
“This and that. Bits and pieces, really."
Riley shoved the box under the desk with a hard kick. He perched lightly on the arm of a chair. “Bits and pieces? It didn’t feel like bits and pieces. Are you working on a new project?”
Maggie stacked a small tower of textbooks. “Nothing so exciting. Nor illegal, so let’s end this interrogation, shall we?”
“I honestly wasn’t trying to interrogate you. The idea that you are doing something nefarious never even crossed my mind." He smiled. "But fine, keep me guessing.”
“Put it out of your mind, Riley. It’s inconsequential. We have more important things to discuss.”
“What kind of things? The semester curriculum? Predatory demons? The state of affairs in Denmark?”
“Aren’t we feeling cheeky today, Agent Finn?”
“What can I say? You bring it out in me.”
She gave him a reproachful look, but he thought he glimpsed a brief dot of color tinge her cheeks. Was it possible? The illustrious Professor Maggie Walsh, the so-called “Evil Bitch Monster of Death”, was susceptible to flattery? He would have to file that little nugget away for later.
Maggie pinned him with a stern look. “Riley."
"Sorry. I'm listening."
She knotted her hands behind her back, circling the room the way she did in her lectures. "You already know I am not well-liked at this university. To be fair, I have never gone out of my way to socialize. I don't 'yuck it up' with my students or 'schmooze' at the dean's interminably dry dinner parties. I am not interested in 'hob-knobbing' or rubbing elbows. I have a no-nonsense approach to my job. I am here to work, not to play games."
She sighed. "My students fear me and my colleagues shun me. People choose to believe there is an ulterior motive in everything I do. That said, my reputation doesn’t particularly concern me. However, I feel duty-bound to warn you that, as my new T.A., you will be the target of questions and suspicion by virtue of our association. You will receive more attention than you could ever want.”
She picked up a sheaf of papers and reshuffled them. “Being my assistant affords you a certain amount of power and visibility on campus,” she continued. “I am telling you all of this now so you prepare yourself.”
“I appreciate the warning, but I am sure I can handle it.”
Maggie pressed on. “You can expect a stream of starry-eyed coeds to follow you around campus and show up at your door at all hours with contrived requests of some type or another. Anything from wanting to borrow some coffee beans to needing you to interpret a Freudian dream. That kind of attention can be overwhelming, even addicting. But I want you to promise me that you won’t let these vapid schoolgirls distract you from what matters most. Your studies and the mission.”
“I am two hundred percent committed to my education and to the mission. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“Riley, I’ve seen it happen before. We’ve lost too many good agents to runaway hormones. You’re the best we’ve ever had in the organization, and I want you to be the exception to the rule. Don’t let those insipid little creatures turn your head.”
He grinned. “They can’t. You already turned my head.”
“Highly inappropriate, Agent Finn.” Her tone was reproving, but her lips twitched as if she were biting down on a smile. So, Maggie Walsh could be flattered. Would wonders never cease?
“Now, take a walk, Riley. Work off some of that irreverent energy. Don’t return until you’re back to your normal self.”
“Maybe this is my normal self.”
Maggie jabbed a finger at the door.
“Alright. I’m going. I have to hit the bookstore anyway. I will try not to get mauled by a roving pack of over-zealous freshmen girls while I'm there.”
Maggie’s glower told him she wanted to kick his ass. Or lob the sinfully ugly statue on her bookshelf at his head.
He swallowed down a laugh. “Sorry. Really. I think I got too much sun yesterday running scrimmages with Forrest and Graham.”
He offered her a simple wave and left.
Next stop, campus bookstore.