The President's Secretary (Evil Morty X Reader)

Epsilon

"At your service, President {L/N}."
The black haired young woman curtsies at you almost jokingly. She looks back up at you with piercing green eyes, the outline of a smile coming from behind a surgical mask covering her nose and mouth. The mask clashes with her red turtleneck sweater, black leather jacket, distressed blue jeans and combat boots. You rest your elbows on your desk and look at her closely.
"So... you claim you're the one who fought off that sniper," you say, "the person with the extremely deep voice."
"Voice changer," Epsilon chuckles, "my speciality."
You smile at her. "Well, if you did fight off that sniper, you saved my life. Thank you. But why are you here?"
"I'm an interdimensional mercenary," she says, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her jeans, "and I think I can help you."
You stand up in surprise. "And why do you think I'd need a mercenary of all things!? I appreciate what you did for me, but this is absurd!" You exclaim. "Get her out of here."
Two guards come in and grab Epsilon's arms. She tries to resist, but she looks you dead in the eyes and cries out:
"I can help you stop Evil Morty!"
You freeze up. Even the two guards stop dead in their tracks.
"The Morty from your dimension, the old president," Epsilon pants, "I'm trying to stop him, too. Just give me a chance."

You sit at the head of the long dining hall table, Epsilon all the way on the other end. She looks at you, completely ignoring the food on her plate while you eat quietly.
"I feel like I have to yell so you can hear me," she exclaims, "this table's really long. Why can't I just sit next to you?"
"You haven't touched your food, Epsilon." You take a sip from your glass of whiskey.
"Sorry Mom, but with all due respect, I don't really eat in front of people."
"It's the mask, isn't it?"
"Yep."
You set your empty glass on the table. "Epsilon, let's discuss this preposition you mentioned."
Without hesitation, she picks up her chair and slides it across the floor, reaching the opposite end of the table and sitting down next to you.
"Okay, think of it like this:" Epsilon looks up at you, smiling from behind her mask, "you and I, we're playing the same sport. I'm on offense and and you're on defense. You can't play a good game with just offense or just defense, you need both. So... why don't we start a team? We combine our strengths to cancel out our weaknesses. If I can't play defense, you're there to back me up. If you can't play offense, I'll be there to help."
You have to admit, you're a bit shocked. You didn't expect to hear something so profound from Epsilon.
"And your mercenary work, is it independent?" You place your hand on the table.
"Yup, completely independent, so no third parties." Epsilon crosses her arms confidently. You smile and extend your hand to her.
"Well, I think I'd like to be your defense, Epsilon. I'll give you a chance. I hope you make a strong offense." You chuckle.
Epsilon is slightly taken aback, but she grins and firmly shakes your hand. "Thank you so much, Boss!"
"Boss? That won't be necessary. If we're going to be working together, you can just call me {Y/N}."
You and Epsilon chat for a while and share a few laughs.
"Oh, and I have to ask," you chuckle, "where did you get the name 'Evil Morty?' It's actually fantastic."
Epsilon thinks for a second. "Huh... I actually don't know! I just kinda started calling him that the more research I did on him."
"And how old are you?"
"Twenty seven. Been working as a mercenary since I was eleven."
"Damn!"
"What can I say? I love my job." Epsilon leans back in her chair, laughing. You get her a glass of whiskey while refilling your own.
"So how long will you be staying?" You take a sip. Epsilon looks over at you.
"Staying where?"
"Here. You can have your own room in the Capital for as long as you'd like." You smile.
"Well, I guess until we get rid of Evil Morty," Epsilon says, looking down into her glass, "Then I'll be out of your hair. Need me to pay rent or something?"
You scoff. "Rent? I hope you're joking."
"Sorry, I usually have to pay rent when I live with clients." She rubs the back of her neck. "Just kinda instinctual."
"It's fine." You chuckle. "So, you're a gun-for-hire, right? How much do I need to pay to hire you?"
Epsilon stands up. "Hey! There's no need. For you, I'll do it for free. I don't do this for just anyone."
"I appreciate it, Epsilon," you say, "I can tell we're going to get along just fine."