Page 33 of Susie's Orc

Yolanda, the HR rep we’re speaking with, shuffles through the papers in front of her.

“Well,” she says when she finally looks up from the stack. “You’re not in the same department, so that takes care of concerns about favoritism, or any issues with chain of command or managing subordinates.”

An image flashes through my mind of Jonah on his knees, waiting for me to tell him exactly what I want him to do to me, sunlight streaming in through the open window of my bedroom this past weekend.

Managing subordinates, indeed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jonah’s nostrils flare, and the hand he has on my knee tightens.

It’s only been a few weeks, but I’ve got it bad for my orc. And based on the absurd amount of time we’re already spending together—both in bed and out of it—it’s easy to guess he’s got it bad for me, too.

Still, it’s not the place or time for me to be thinking about that, and I snap my mind out of the gutter.

“No, none of that should be a problem,” I say.

“Unless I have to approve any of her atrociously inaccurate expense reports,” Jonah chimes in.

“Hey!” I protest. “I always include my receipts, don’t I?”

“Yes. Whether those receipts have anything to do with what ends up being entered into the report is another matter entirely.”

I’m about to retort and tell him just where he can enter that report, when Yolanda clears her throat. We both look at her sheepishly.

“We’ll see that another accountant is assigned to her reports,” she says in a flat monotone.

Beside me, I think I hear Jonah mutter something likethank god for thatunder his breath, and I elbow him in the ribs for good measure.

We get our papers signed and one last warning about the Bureau’s policy for public displays of affection before walking out of Yolanda’s office free and clear to date and keep our jobs at the Bureau.

It’s another Friday afternoon, and an entire weekend together stretches out in front of us. We’re having drinks after work with a few of our coworkers who could totally guess something was going on before we ever fessed up, then spending as much time as we can just being together. Simple, uncomplicated, perfect.

“Well,” Jonah says after we’ve both grabbed our stuff from our desks and head into the elevator. “That went better than I expected.”

“What did you expect?” I ask, pushing the button for the lobby. “Doom and gloom and our walking papers?”

He laughs, stepping toward me and backing me up against the far wall of the elevator. “I don’t know. Maybe a sterner warning. A reminder not to accost you in any supply closets.”

“Or ogle you in any accounts payable meetings,” I add, reaching up to loop my arms around his neck.

He kisses me, soft and slow, until the elevator doors ding and we step out into the lobby.

The sun is shining and the spring air smells sweet as I take Jonah’s hand and walk out the Bureau’s front door with my orc from Accounting.

Epilogue

Jonah - One Year Later

“Is that the last of it?”

Gemma sets down a heavy box of books in the middle of the condo Susie and I signed on late last week, then dramatically wipes the back of her hand over her brow. “Your stuff’s heavy as hell. What do you have in here, bricks?”

“Hey now, did I give you shit about that armoire you made me move for you and Kasey?”

“Yeah, you totally did.”

I grab a soda from the fridge and toss it to her. “I think your memory is going. I was nothing but happy to help you move.”

“Sure you were,” she says, rolling her eyes as she sinks down onto the sofa.

---