Fic: The Summer Intern (cont.)

[jeriendhal]

It was nearly sunset by the time Nan left the First One's home, lowered down carefully by his tail with the admonishment to find a ladder by 0900 tomorrow. She tromped back to the dormitory, stopping by the general store to grab some self-heating Redi-Meals! so she could eat in her room rather than the cafe. After completing the laundry, folding the First One's clothes, cleaning the muck off his honored pots and pans and then sweeping the corners where the vacuuming bot couldn't reach, she was ready to chuck the damned internship and head back home her parent's apartment on Vulpine Prime.

She stomped up the stairs, slapping her keycard to open her dorm room, then stepped inside to tromp down on the tail of a wazagan kneeling on a small rug on the floor.

“Subhana rabbiyal ad-YEOUCH!” the wazagan cried out, standing up so suddenly that she nearly pulled Nan off her feet as she yanked her tail free. She was about average height for her species, a mammalian with the appearance of a wingless anthropomorphic dragon, with dark blue hair and light blue skin, and purple tufts in her large ears. She was dressed in green surgical scrubs, probably just coming off her shift at the hospital judging from their wrinkled appearance.

“Oh, by the Holy Den Mother, I am so sorry!” Nan said, dropping her bag of Redi- Meals! on the floor.

The poor wazagan grabbed the tip of her and massaged it carefully. “That's all right, you didn't hurt me. I was just a little squished that's all.” She let go of her tail and held out her hand. “I'm Nez. You must be my new roommate.”

Nan took it and they shook. “Yes. I'm Nan, the new Freeman Scholar intern. At least I think I am.”

“Hu?”

“It's complicated.” She left out a meal for herself, stuffing the rest in the room's small fridge, as Nez rolled up the little carpet and stuck it in her wardrobe. “I'm sorry again about stepping on you. What were you doing down there anyway?”

“Sunset prayers,” Nez replied. She waved at the meal, smiling. “Put that away with the rest. You look like you could use a real dinner. There's a little restaurant that most of the hospital staff go to. I can take you there.”

“Oh please, I don't want to be any trouble right now.”

“Don't worry about it.” She waved for Nan to turn around for a moment and pulled on a pair of blue jeans and a knitted turtleneck with a little heart embroidered on it. “Come on. Nothing helps a bad mood like a good meal.”

Nez dragged Nan back outside into the evening air, where the night singer insects called to each other in the trees. The restaurant turned out to be another treehouse structure, with wide windows to let in the evening breeze, not to mention a proper stairwell for non-ferin to use. It was also run exclusively by ferin, with the menu was was written in both Standard and the specialized ferin pictogram language that was one of the real successes in making them an independent sentient species. At least in Vulpine culture.

A hearty vegetable stew chased down with thick coffee and creamer did wonders for Nan's mood. While they ate, Nez took up the burden of conversation, filling her in about the young wazagan female's job as internist at the hospital, earning her degree in xenomedicine.

“The hospital is where most of the research is done in ferin biology too,” she said. “The ferin have an aversion to invasive medical testing, as you can imagine. But the hospital gives us a pretty good idea about baseline ferin health and what procedures need to be followed when they turn ill.”

“Ranger Walklong mentioned something like that when she was giving me the tour. Of course she failed to mention one or two other things, like the fact that the First One is a self-centered ass.”

Nez cleared her throat carefully, ears twitching towards the mostly ferin patrons of the restaurant. “Not too loud, please.”

“Sorry.” Nan rubbed her temples with her paw. “It's been a long day. I've playing housemaid to his Most Bionic all afternoon.”

“Housemaid?”

“Yah.” Nan took a long sip of her coffee. “I'm here to try and learn, to try and help the ferin, not to wash a historical figure's dishes.”

“Well, maybe he'll get you started on real work tomorrow,” Nez said sympathetically. “I know I did more than my fair share of laundry when I first got here.”

“I guess you're right. Tomorrow has to be better.” Nan sighed. “Assuming I can find a ladder.”

TBC

Comments

[drakemagi.livejournal.com]

That poor, poor vixen.

[jeriendhal.livejournal.com]

Hey, at least she had a nice dinner. :)

[mjkj.livejournal.com]

Great :)

Yeah, nothing better than a nice meal :) - and a new friend of course...

mjkj

[mjkj.livejournal.com]

Now just to find a ladder :P

[chaypeta.livejournal.com]

Glad to see Nan has found a friend she can commiserate with. Will Nez be extrapolating on why she got into ferin medicine? The foundations of this story is nicelt set out now. Can't wait to see what crisis you're going to come up with... besides Nan plotting to hang her new boss off the balcony.

[jeriendhal.livejournal.com]

I might do a bit more with Nez if it comes up. The actual crisis will be along after a bit more character stuff