Mill "into the wild" Bagnold (faircop) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-11-06 16:38:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-11] november, millicent bagnold (née macfusty) |
Who: the marvellous Minister Millicent (and her robot assistants)
When: Wednesday afternoon
Where: Mill's office
What: Pursuant to earlier visits, Mill arranges for Pepper to join her staff
Rating: PG-13 (a bit of language)
Status: Narrative
Twice a day Millicent had all four of her assistants in the office at the same time. It was necessary, morning and afternoon, for actually keeping her eye on just what they were doing and how they were doing it. She'd be damned if she was doing it any more often than that, though, because they were (still) just plain aggravating.
"One last item to be actioned on today's list," Mill said, as Assistant #1 (always the annoying little swot) flipped over to tomorrow's list on his daily planner. Just for that, she'd have picked him to solve this business, but she already had him processing and summarising the Magical Creatures budget proposals this afternoon, and if he actually managed that she'd probably have to actually compliment him. And/or learn his name.
"You," she said instead to #4, who sat up a little straighter. "I want Octavius Pepper added to my staff. Liaise with HR as to the necessary paperwork and see it done."
Assistant #4's quill scritched across parchment in his incomprehensible shorthand. "Position?" he asked, just as #2 chimed in with, "Pepper? Ma'am, are you sure this is a good idea?"
"Yes," Mill said without turning. "Assistant. Specialised purview of the prosecution of You-Know-Who and his associated forces."
"Ma'am." It was #3 this time, who Millicent had always suspected of being a closet Witch Weekly reader. "I must agree with Thompson. I heard he'd been fired--" So a hall-gossiper as well, it seemed. "--and this is hardly going to look good in the light of previous reports."
"Special Assistant?" #4 asked, lifting an eyebrow.
"No," Mill said, very quickly. She smiled faintly, and looked across at #2. "I have four assistants already, three of whom are male. I do hope no one's going to suggest I'm sleeping with all of you. The media are welcome to say whatever they like about the addition of one more, as long as while they do so I can get on with doing my fucking job." She turned back to #4. "But I don't know that we need to set ourselves on fire in the process. Just assistant. No special."
"I don't know," #1 said (and Millicent swore internally and wondered if they practiced this tag-team approach in their off hours), "that HR will be at all pleased with the provision to the Minister's office of more than four assistants. That has been the standard."
"Well then," Mill said, with her sweetest smile, "the four of you can liaise about who wants to leave."
There was a moment of silence.
"Or," Mill continued, "you can back your associate up in recommending to the department the necessity in our present dire circumstances of applying additional skilled manpower to the very real problems that need addressing." She leaned against her desk, weight on her knuckles. "Is there anything else?"
Apparently there wasn't.
Millicent nodded to #1 and his ever-ready notes. "Tomorrow's list. Start."