First day's always the worst

Jun 8th, 2011 11:04 AM

Beatrix got the report-in time for 9am sharp to SAC Johnson the day before, after being rotated off her last shift in the FBI's Homicide Division. The message was clipped, curt, like the underling passing it on didn't have time to answer questions. He'd hung up before she'd had time to say goodbye.

The building's almost depressingly innocuous when she reports to it, a three-story, squat looking HQ with a logo that looks like it needs a damn good polish over the door. There's a receptionist sat behind a low desk behind the automatic doors and the metal detector.

She's drinking coffee and talking on the phone to someone called 'Shaunee'.

**Cayce** · Jun 8th, 2011 01:57 PM

Special Agent Beatrix Fletcher walked through the sliding, automatic doors at exactly 8:45, breaking her stride only for a second when she saw the metal detector looming in front of her. She knew that the machine's alarm would go off immediately as she walked through it, its invisible sensors doubtlessly picking up the signature of her concealed carry. She was wary of how the receptionist would react but a pair of sunglasses hid the uncertainty in her eyes as she shamelessly approached. Beatrix was, after all, licensed to carry at all times, and this was no exception.

"Hello,"the Agent says, a modicum of politeness in her voice. "Would you let Special Agent Johnson that his 9 o'clock is here. Thank you." It was clear that she wasn't really asking.

Jun 8th, 2011 02:02 PM

A security officer moved over to Beatrix immediately as the alarm went off, his expression looking severe. His hand's on the butt of his gun, but he hasn't drawn yet. Maybe he was expecting you. It's probably the ID badge that all Agents wear that helps.

"You armed, ma'am?" he said, in a tone that immediately communicated that he was Goddamn tired of people just walking through the detectors without bothering to show themselves. "Hand it over and step back through the detector, please."

**Cayce** · Jun 8th, 2011 02:11 PM

Beatrix sighed internally before turning to face the security guard. It was true that she was the one at fault here but she wasn't going to show that, not yet. "Yes, I am armed. I also have car keys, this little metal clip attached to my name tag, and a badge. Where's the bowl to put all of my metal objects in?" she asked, slowly opening her jacket to remove her issued firearm, badge, id tag, and car keys, just as promised. "Also, What's your policy on firearms for agents? Just so I know for the future."

Jun 8th, 2011 02:22 PM

"Policy is, we don't just stomp through the metal detectors," the guard said boredly, counting Beatrix's stuff into a small plastic dish at his desk next to the detector. "Walk through again, please."

**Cayce** · Jun 8th, 2011 02:29 PM

One corner of her mouth pulled tight, almost in a smirk, and she walked back through the detector, slowly. Next she turned back to the guard.

"I apologize, sir, but I didn't see anyone posted by the detector as I came in. I assumed the receptionist would be the one to talk to. May I retrieve my things now?"

Jun 8th, 2011 02:42 PM

"Yeah, they're all yours," the guard rolled his eyes, handing her stuff back over. He stepped away, muttering something about the fucking new guys crowding the place.

The receptionist is still gossiping on the phone. It's like she didn't notice all of this at all.

**Cayce** · Jun 9th, 2011 12:17 AM

Beatrix did sigh, finally, once she had her items back. So this was where she had been sent to: DHS Geosciences, the laughably credible agency with door guards, gossiping receptionists, and almost no reason to actually exist. This was Siberia, the wasteland of her career. Only a miracle could get her out it but for her there was no religion and god had been murdered long ago; Nietzsche would have been proud. The sudden wave of hopeless which rolled over the Agent caused to her blink rapidly and she stood there, staring into space for a moment before striding towards the desk once more, her eyes unreadable behind the dark glasses.

"Excuse me," she began again, voice hollow, "would you inform Special Agent Johnson that his 9 o'clock is here. Thank you."

Jun 10th, 2011 02:27 PM

The receptionist languidly hung up the phone and looked at Beatrix with an assessing gaze. She pressed an intercom, touching her headset as she did.

"SAC Johnson? Yes, your 9 o'clock appointment is here, sir," she pauses for a moment. "Of course, sir." She removes her finger from the headset and looks up at Beatrix.

"Go to the elevator at the end of the corridor and ride it up to the top floor. SAC Johnson's office is the second on the left. Welcome to the Department of Homeland Security, Geosciences Division," she rattles off. It sounds so practiced and repetitive, it's almost tempting to check if she's plugged into her desk.

**Cayce** · Jun 11th, 2011 04:44 PM

"Thank you," Beatrix said, turning abruptly on her heel and marching into the elevator, her steps precise and quick. She punched the button for the top floor and leaned against the wall, waiting for the metal carriage to begin its ascent. Once the doors closed she put away her sunglasses and studied her murky reflection in the metal walls, fixing her resolve once more. She wasn't going to step down from this challenge and she sure as hell wasn't going to give the Bureau a bad name. Sure, there had been a rocky start but that's all it was, a start; it was the results that mattered.

Once the doors clanged open Beatrix strode confidently to the second office on the left and knocked three times.

First day's always the worst

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