A Rock and A Hard Place
(I lost the original source for the dialogue prompt “Get out of my office” so have a snippet of Lindsay Pilot being herself and Evvy being Done With Her Shit (TM) ) Officer Evanesca Rochelin of the AEGIS did an obvious double take when she saw me installed at her desk with my feet up, sipping coffee at the crack of dawn. Her progression from surprise to incredulousness to irritation was almost worth the sleepless night.
“Pilot,” she said with an absolute flatness of tone, “What do you think you’re doing? And why is there a big dirty rock on my desk?”
The rock in question, nearly the size of my skull, was technically made of cement and busy shedding flecks of dried mud on Evvy’s case files, just like my shoes. I spared it a glance, since it was going to be the most appreciative part of my audience, then took another sip of awful station coffee from Evvy’s mug.
“You know the company I suspected of embezzling the money out of city funds by cutting corners building bridges?” I asked, not taking my feet off her desk.
“I don’t keep track of your hare-brained hunches.” Evvy looked like she was debating whether it was worth it to shove my feet off her desk and dump me out of her chair.
“Well, you said you couldn’t justify opening a case on this one unless I brought you some concrete evidence,” I replied, swallowing a grin.
Evvy, clearly undercaffinated, just frowned at me, so I pointed at the chunk of cement. “Behold! Your concrete evidence.”
There was a beat, and then the corner of Evvy’s mouth trembled. “Pilot,” she said sternly, “Get out of my office. Now.”
I dropped my feet to the ground and tipped her an ironic salute on my way out, then stuck my head back through the door on impulse. “Let me know if you need any more help,” I told her “I’m sure that it’s going to be a heavy case load, and you’ll have to move quickly to cement your case…”
I ducked the pencil that she threw at me and left, heading determinedly in the direction of home and a thorough bath.













