Angel of Bloody Teeth

Chapter 1: Several Empty Mugs of Tea and a Melting Woman

"Congratulations, Miss James." Elias's grueling smile shone at Sasha from the other side of an oak colored desk. It had papers stacked in neat piles on top of it, an unnecessary name plate at the front, and a magazine holder full of files at the side. The man's hands sat on the surface, clasped expectantly.

"I got the job?" Sasha couldn't help but break into a grin. As much as Elias put her on edge, she'd been positively chasing this position for years. There was no way to deny that she was fluttering with delight. Her head spun, almost, and her stomach twisted itself into a nervous knot.

Elias nodded curtly."You are now the head Archivist of the Magnus Institute." He offered. "I applaud you."

Sasha giggled wildly."Thank you!" She said lightly. "I-" She cut herself off for another breathy laugh. "Thanks!"

"You're quite welcome." The blond returned, the smile still pasted onto his face. "That's all I needed to tell you. I'll have Rosie send some paperwork over to your office later, it's mostly financial ordeals. Nothing too grating, unless you have a hard time signing your name."

She giggled again."Oh, I don't know. Public school never taught me cursive, I had to learn it myself." She teased. Her increasingly good mood pushed the usual boundaries she had with her boss, just a bit.

Elias offered a forced sort of chuckle that marked the end of the conversation."That'll be all, then." He said coolly. "Have a pleasant afternoon."

Sasha's smile dipped a small bit, but she nodded regardless."Same to you," She said, standing up out of the 'guest chair' in Bouchard's office. "Be seeing you, then." She added, practically bouncing for the door. She threw it open and squealed in the hallway, unable to care if Elias could still hear her or not. She wasn't face to face with him, and that was enough for her to throw all notions of professionalism out the window. She stamped her feet against the ground and crouched over excitedly.

"I take it someone's happy." Tim's voice rang into her ears. She shot back upright and scuttled up for a hug.

"I got the job!!" She exclaimed. "I got!! The! Job!!"

"You got the job!" Tim repeated, matching the woman's energy. "That's amazing! It also means that I owe Martin five pounds, but-"

Sasha scowled playfully."You bet on it?"

"We were more betting on whether or the boss is a sexist weasel, but yeah, money was an object to be had." He ruffled her hair. "What's more important is that he's not!"

"You realize that I'm technically your boss now, too?" Sasha tossed. "No more betting in my archives!"

"Awwww, you're no fun!" He groaned.

"Quite right!" She laughed. "I'm the Archivist." --"I'm the Archivist, Tim, I can't just...take whenever off." Sasha groaned, rubbing at her eyes again and placing the hot rag back over them.

"You're not going to stay the Archivist for long in this condition!" Tim argued. He leaned against her desk, which had found itself in a progressively messier state since a week ago. Teacups, some still half full, sat in a small pile on one corner so as not to stain the statements that were piling up. There were vaguely defined piles of 'done,' 'in progress,' and 'to do,' but even 'pile' was a generous word for the way they sprawled over the surface. Sasha gasped slightly and pulled her hands over her mouth.Tim reached out for the small wastebin that sat next to her, but she held her finger up.