Finally (A Storm and Silence Fanfiction) ✔️

1. My Very Unusual Day

Lots of days in the office went like this one, but I usually spent them being tired out before the day was over. Today, however, was different.

I was, as always, barraged by an endless stream of notes demanding various files, but instead of grudgingly fetching them and 'wasting precious time and ink ' writing notes back to Mr. Ambrose about my many, many paper cuts, I dutifully did my job. I gave him every file at top-notch speed, didn't try to peek into the ever-present, flower-scented pink envelopes when shoving his correspondence under the door, and did all of it with a gods-damned smile. I managed to do such a good job, even Mr. Grumpy-Pants Ambrose had a kind - well, kind for him - word for me: "Adequate."

Well, actually, our conversation went something like this:

At the end of the day, I was going about my business, stuffing my hair back into its top hat and packing up my few possessions. Then, I was called into my dear old boss's office.

"Mr. Linton," he said, sitting as stiffly as a starched shirt - if a starched shirt could talk, of course.

"Mr. Ambrose, sir."

We were like that for a minute, face to face, because I stood and he sat on the only chair in the room (of course he would only have one seat, anything more was a waste of money to him.)

"Your work today was a-" He began.

I, making an assumption based on all the months I had worked for him, during which he had never once said anything remotely kind to me, assumed he was going to say "awful." Maybe even "atrocious" or "abysmal," if he was planning on wasting precious air and syllables. "You can stick your criticism where the sun doesn't shine, Sir!"

"Mr. Linton, why are you wasting my time by interrupting me? I was going to tell you that your work was adequate!" He had not bothered to raise his voice or stand up, but I felt very, very ashamed.

Oh. Dear. Oh, dear me. I stared down at the hard stone floor, suddenly finding it very fascinating, and wondered if my hair escaping my top hat was the reason for the burning itch at the back of my neck.

Mr. Ambrose scowled at me, finally standing up. "Dismissed, Linton."

I stormed out like he was the one who had done something wrong. And he had. Really. He couldn't even form a full sentence when dismissing me? Or call me his favourite form of address, "Mr. Linton?" Although, maybe him calling me "Linton" was better... it was certainly a step closer to "Miss Linton".

I pondered this on the walk home, and upon arriving I changed into my clothes in the shed, emerging just in time to be set upon by what appeared to be either a pack of wolves or street urchins. Upon further examination, it appeared that my friends were here, and that they were very displeased.

"Where have you been all day? Haven't you forgotten that the demonstration is tomorrow?" Patsy demanded, twirling her parasol in a very unladylike manner. One could almost have called it... brutish.

I gulped. "Was it really? You know me, always so forgetful! Say, Flora, is that a new hat?"

Flora, the wonderful, wonderful Flora, smiled, patting her hat, and said "Yes, it - ow! Patsy! Whatever did you do that for?"

"She was distracting you!" Patsy retracted her parasol from where it had jabbed Flora in the side. "Now, tell us where you've been all day."