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31 October 2006 @ 10:22 am
 
Date: Day One
Time: 8:04 A.M.
Place: Shinra HQ, Junon
Characters: Tseng, Xander, Livonya, and Abigail.
Status: Open to the aforementioned.
Rating: PG

He was late. Damn it, he'd had to drop Olivia off at school, and he'd hit traffic on his way into the office. Maybe four minutes wasn't a lot to some people, but when it came down to the first day on a new job, it could be the difference between getting a keycard and getting the boot.

Hell if he was getting the boot. He needed this job.

He muttered under his breath and jammed his visitor's card into place, waiting what seemed torturously long seconds before the doors slid open and let him enter. He was alone, of course, because the other people would no doubt be there already wondering where the last new recruit was. He punched in the floor number, leaned against the wall, and waited.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he needed the kind of income being a Turk would bring him. He couldn't think of any other job that would boast this kind of starting salary, and with a little girl depending on him for every little thing, he had to be able to pay insurance and medical bills and the cost of school supplies and... and everything.

A dull ache began to spread in the center of his chest, and he rubbed the heel of his hand down on it, hard. Things had been easier when Vicky had been alive but now she wasn't. He didn't have time to grieve.

Grateful when the doors slid open to reveal a carefully polished reception area, he stepped into the room and thought, no going back.

"It's about time someone showed up."

Raising his eyebrows at the mostly annoyed tones, he turned his head slowly and centered his gaze on a brunette wearing a scowl that could rival his own. She seemed unimpressed by him, but crooked her finger nonetheless. Belatedly, he wondered if he had punched in the wrong floor.

"Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to sit down and wait for the rest of the party?"

Amused despite himself, Xander slipped his hands into his pockets and sauntered over to where she gestured. The chair was ugly and looked uncomfortable.

Opting to lean against the wall instead, he commented, "You're one hell of a welcome party."

The woman's lips quirked and she offered her hand. "Abby Maynard. I'm your new secretary."

He eyed her palm for a moment before sighing and dragging one hand free, making more of a production than necessary. She rolled her eyes even as the elevator doors slid open, and they both turned to see who was next.

Helpfully, Abby called out, "You're late."