Saint Patrick ☘ (shamrocked_) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2012-10-08 13:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | saint patrick, wrath |
WHO: Patrick and Wrath
WHAT: Jobs (I love these two together)
WHEN: Monday Morning
WHERE: Patrick's office
WARNINGS: Wrath!
Patrick was typing rapidly on his computer when he heard the knock at the door. He checked the clock before looking up to see Wrath peering in through his door frame, closing the door behind her. "You're early!" Patrick said cheerfully. "Good morning, Wrath!" She stepped inside, looking more like a frightened little girl than a sin who could easily punch through basically everyone in the building if she wanted to.
"Hey," Wrath said, wrapping her arms around herself. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt and she waved her hands around, "didn't dress up."
Patrick, who only dressed up at work when he had meetings, indicated his own jeans. "You're fine. Before we start, I brought you breakfast." He reached into his bag which was beside him and pulled out a McDonald's bag. He would have gotten something nicer, but he had noticed Wrath seemed to enjoy it more if it was shit.
Her eyes widened as he put the bag on the desk. "You...got that for me?"
"Well, yes!" Patrick explained as if it was obvious. "You said all you had was popcorn so I figured you must be hungry-"
"But I was so fucking mean to you yesterday!" Wrath interrupted. She did not understand these saints. "I called you fucking useless."
Patrick nodded and he fought to keep his answer civil. "I know you did, but just because you said it, it doesn't make it true. And I hate it when people are hungry. Deep-seated issues." Remnants from captivity where he was severely underfed for six years. He couldn't stand watching anyone go through that even for a day.
Wrath watched him warily as she took the bag and opened it. "Holy shit, ten fucking hashbrowns!"
"I remembered you wrote somewhere that they were your favourite-" Patrick stopped talking when he noticed Wrath was staring at him with an expression he had never seen on her face before. And then she burst into tears right there in the middle of his office. "Oh, Jesus-"
Patrick leapt out of his desk chair so fast that it rolled away from him and twirled forlornly in the corner. He went to her side and stood awkwardly, afraid to touch her in case she ripped his hair out. "Wrath...don't cry! I don't know what to do here-"
She sniffed and then hugged the bag to her chest probably more out of insecurity than just really loving McDonald's. "I don't fucking understand you!" she wailed at him.
"It's okay, I don't either!" Patrick said quickly. "I just...I-I didn't want you to be uncomfortable- I got you coffee too. Decaf, which I am now pleased about."
Wrath laughed once and then she wiped at her tears. "You saints, man. My own fucking siblings didn't bring me delicious fucking hashbrowns. I don't know what they fucking put in them but they're like crack, seriously." She sniffed again and then she went to sit down at the smaller desk which was facing Patrick's. "Lust gave me so much shit for coming here and you showed me more ...kindness," she shuddered as if kindness was detestable, "in two fucking minutes-"
"Heh. I'm an asshole like that," Patrick said with a nod. "Should...I sit back down now?"
"Probably. I'm not giving you a shitting hug if that was what you were expecting."
Patrick shook his head and he went back to his chair. "No, I'll take all the verbal ones instead," he said, a touch of whimsy in his voice. "I didn't mean to confuse you."
Wrath pulled out one of the hashbrowns and she ate it whole, closing her eyes a little as she savoured it. When she had swallowed she shrugged. "'sfine." She might talk about her internal conflict and the divine side of her versus the dark side to George, but she wasn't talking to Patrick about it. "Just didn't think I fucking deserve it is all."
"It's not about deserving, it's about crack potatoes."
Wrath snorted and she ate another one. "Right. So what am I doing here. I am not helping you convert babies or some shit, am I?"
Patrick laughed and he shook his head. "No! No, I work with Irish immigrants. A lot of people are moving here again these days because Ireland is in crisis. They move here and then have terrible trouble with visas and getting a job. We try to connect them with jobs and find them homes wile providing lawyers to deal with the legal side of things. And basically I need spreadsheets of our clients who have cases, the ones who have housing issues, the ones who need services...I have all the information but it's a mess. Does that makes sense? Can...you use Excel?"
"Yes I can use fucking Excel and if I don't know something I certainly know how to fucking use Google," Wrath said dryly. "I'm not an idiot. So basically all I have to do is sort shit, because I can do that, no problem. I don't have to like...answer your phone."
"Please...please don't-" Patrick said worriedly. "If I'm not here, let it ring. And that's all. Maybe eventually write up correspondence. I would do it but I don't have time because I end up going to a lot of the meetings and being a pushy advocate. You can choose your own hours if you want. And if you're here over lunch we can go get something together."
"So I just sit here in front of a computer and I don't have to fucking talk to anyone and you'll bring me junk food?"
"Basically, yes," Patrick nodded.
"Holy fucking shit. Do I have to talk to you a lot?"
Patrick snorted again and he laughed while shaking his head. "Not if you don't want to."
"Fucking brilliant." And Wrath twirled in her chair while chewing happily on her hashbrowns.