Aelki rejected or signed off on proposals pending their explanation to Ambassador O'Ranges. He would never hear about the rejected proposals. They were the ones that, like candy in the back of the legendary van, were too good to be true and very obviously dangerous.
She was not exactly an administrative assistant. More like a human filter. In combination with adoptive mother, nursemaid, therapist, dietician, transit authority, private tutor… Either she had to sew herself a JOAT coat or change her official title to ‘Mum’.
Currently, both were looking like a valid option. Simultaneously.
And here came the migraine.
Aelki murmured a groan and checked the reject pile counter. Almost there. Five hundred rejected proposals, and she could go home. Home. Ha. She’d never had a home since she packed her towel and put on the pin to go hitchhiking. She still didn’t have an official home. Not yet. O'Ranges insisted that all the other 'fur-people’ got homes before he did.
Thus, her home was anywhere with O'Ranges. Just like his home was with her. Which meant that it was an extremely good thing that her Ambassadorial Staff wages thoroughly covered whatever accommodation she chose for the both of them.
Her pinch-Second Hitchhiker soul was satisfied with the mid-level suite with the obligatory garden. It was the cheapest set of rooms that allowed O'Ranges room to move. The bonus selling point was that all the plants in the suite were not toxic to humans or dogs. She’d run a covert check to be absolutely positive that they wouldn’t be toxic to O'Ranges, and when that green light occurred, she’d signed off on the contract.
Four hundred and ninety-nine rejects. This was not the time to turn unprofessional and go looking for something to reject. Rule Seventeen: Always act professionally - except during Silly Season. Therefore, she ploughed through proposals, flagging them according to her evaluation, until she found the metaphorical golden ticket.
Ugh. That one was almost so thoroughly candy-van that she couldn’t make it all the way through. Rejected so hard she had to sanitise her hands and wished she could sanitise her eyes. Time to go home.
The live entertainment on the tram was painful to listen to. Some beginner in the painful range of tone-deaf who accompanied themselves via percussion. Aelki was too polite to put on her headphones or move away, and even faced away from them so that the 'artist’ wouldn’t see her wince. She did manage to exchange a few pitiful looks with other citizens who were also similarly trapped.
Home again, home again. Slouchity slouch.
Only to find that O'Ranges had decided once again that clothing wasn’t really worth getting used to and was currently sitting on the floor, skyclad, with his game machine in his massive hands.
She must have winced out loud.
O'Ranges looked up from his game and his tail started wagging. “Hi miss! Hi miss!” His tongue began to lol out. “Hug times!” He threw his massively muscled arms wide.
She almost fell into his soft, warm, barbecue-scented fur. It was still slightly damp.
He’d taken a bath. All by himself. Just so he could smell nice for her when she came home. He wasn’t naked because he hated clothes. He was naked because he was still air-drying.
She fell asleep in his lap to the melodious beeping of his game.
Totally. Worth. Everything.
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