As much as it was totally, unachievably awesome, being level 10 also completely sucked. It meant a whole fuck of a lot of paperwork that would either be promptly shredded, or massively censored beyond recognition. Most unfortunately, Daisy learned early on that she still had to do it 'right', ie not continually write a list of her most coveted and imaginative curses buffered by the 'and's and 'circumstance's and 'to be directed to's that would be the only thing left of her documents after the single person in the universe that was also allowed to see them was done with them. It couldn't be Nick, because he never said anything; just handed a sealed envelope back to her containing a very firmly worded warning and her whimsical take on the infiltration of the modern chauvinists' version of a Magdalene Asylum to be reviewed and corrected as directed, ie with actual words.
The last thing Daisy needed while she was doing this already tedious and unnecessary part of her job was Alex having another of his fucking fits. Not far away, more comfortable with the whump of Alex's fists hitting the punching bag than the hum of the flourescent lights that permeated the rest of the facility, Daisy sat crosslegged on the cold gym floor with an exercise ball and a laptop that really should have been able to generate the reports itself by now. She figured Alex might be safe to be around at least when he was working out some of his aggression, but she didn't like that tone. "Haven't you figured out how to masturbate yet?" she bit without looking up, eyes narrowed to glare at her computer screen instead. She didn't realize she would have to be the one to hold some kid's hand through their visit with the puberty fairy.