Jun. 30th, 2005

*grumble*

Jun. 30th, 2005 01:50 pm
bloodsong1: (Default)
Blargh. Half a day and I'm already bored. Not from lack of work, per se, but because my trainer fled to take a break (didn't say if it was lunch or not) and she didn't leave me anything else to do. The five envelopes took me all of five minutes to process and ship. *sob* I'd start going through her files if I knew what I was doing, but it's only my second day here. Grawr!

So, in light of this and the fact that I couldn't sleep half of last night and got it all worked out in my head, I present the next segment of Hellsing. Gods, I need a title.


Michael put away his thermometer and smiled at his patients. "Well, your fevers have broken. I say you're nearly fully recovered. Of course, you will both need to take it easy for the next week. Half days, Sir Integral. You too, Walter." The knight and butler nodded gravely. Rowan, standing nearby, bounced and clapped her hands.

"Wonderful! This is one of the fastest recoveries I've seen."

"That is in large part from your care, Rowan." Integral said, cracking a faint smile. Walter nodded.

"Indeed. Thank you very much, Miss Rowan."

"Oh, you're both very welcome. Now, who do I send the bill to? Michael or you?" She asked Integral. Integral glanced at Michael, who rolled his eyes.

"Send it to Michael. He is in charge of that paperwork." Integral said with a mean smirk. Michael sighed heavily, Walter and Rowan laughed.

"Right, then." Rowan closed up her black bag. "I have left a list of infusions and foods known to improve immune response with your housekeeper. She said it wouldn't be a problem integrating them into your diet."

"Thank you." Rowan nodded at Integral, then walked over to Walter, sitting on his bed. Even in striped pajamas, he radiated dignity. Rowan bowed, fist over heart.

"It has been an honor working with the staff here, Walter. You have them well-trained."

"Thank you, Miss Rowan." Walter bowed back. "I was hoping you would join me for tea next week. Our herb garden has not been doing well and I would like your advice."

"I'd be happy to, Walter. Would Thursday work? Say, around 5?"

"Perfectly." Walter captured her free hand and kissed it. "Thank you, Miss Rowan." Rowan blushed and slowly backed away. Walter let her go, a smug grin on his face. Integral frowned at them both. Once she composed herself, Rowan turned and bowed to Integral.

"I hope to see you again, Sir Hellsing, under better circumstances."

"I am sure it will be arranged." The women shook hands. Rowan nodded to Michael and quit the room. She was quite pleased with herself. Four days instead of seven! That was a new record. Rowan skipped down the stairs, jumping the last three steps to land with a resounding "Thud" on both feet.

"Midnight. Leave your window open." The voice purred darkly in her head. Rowan's eyes widened, then narrowed. She turned slowly, carefully scanning the foyer. Nothing. No shadows, no red eyes, no curls of mist.

"What the hell! My job is done and now you start bugging me?" She growled aloud. A nearby maid looked at her and sidled out of the room. Low, satisfied chuckles filled the room, rapidly gaining volume. Rowan's fists clenched. "That does it. I'm reporting you to Sir Hellsing. I'll be damned if..."

She whipped around and stepped into a room. Rowan pulled up short, frowning. It was a sitting room, a lady's sitting room. Pale green and yellow color scheme, a cozy conversation grouping around a low coffee table, large window and a white desk with a typewriter. Rowan slowly put down her bag and walked over to the desk. The typewriter was ancient, black with fat, round silver keys and the thin strips of metal to strike the paper. The kind that went "clack clack click clack CHING". A paper was already fed into the roller. Rowan leaned over the chair. Two words were printed; "Hello Mina". Rowan staggered back, nearly tripping over her bag.

"No! No!" She closed her eyes, digging her nails into her scalp. "This isn't real. It's not real." The chuckling returned, louder then ever. "Get OUT!" Rowan screamed.

"Midnight." The voice demanded, rolling over her. "Leave your window open."

"GET OUT OF MY MIND!!" Rowan shrieked.
bloodsong1: (Default)
GRRRRR. I hate this keyboard. And Skipper complains about MAC boards! I hereby declare Dell generics to be JUNK!

Now, as I was saying before I accidentally deleted three paragraphs...

Workflow stalled out again due to co-worker breaking. She's finally taking her lunch. I feel useless. The list she left me of things to do, one is complete, another is stalled because I have a question and have NO idea whom to ask, and the third is waiting on notary, which I should nip over and mark ASAP so the chicky in question doesn't sit on it for the rest of the day. Or snag it and give it to the other notary whom I know will be back from a soda run here shortly. But will that really give me enough to do for the next 40some minutes? Really?

I'm beginning to think I'm too fast. Sound familiar, Janny? But I'm here until six because that's easiest for transport home. I don't want to be wasting overtime by doing nothing, but is it any better now? Maybe when I'm better trained, I'll be able to keep myself busy. I hope so.

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