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32

[Locked to Wardens]

Sometimes I think this job would be a Hell of a lot more bearable if it weren't for the people.

[Private to Major West]

The Wardens are starting up a system of monthly progress reports. I can't say I've ever done anything like this before, but it's worth a try. Either way it's probably best we go over it together.

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Anybody in particular?

Let's start with Ralphie and work our way down.

Progress reports?

...very well.

I'll bring it by.

You do that.

[It is not long before Morgan arrives with her journal and some sheets of loose paper closed between the pages. She looks perplexed as she knocks on the door.]

[West opens the door, looking down at the papers in Morgan's hands]

Hello.

Hi.

[She looks down at her hands a moment.]

May I come in?

Oh. [He steps away from the doorway and nods] Of course. Come in.

[She steps in and opens her journal to look at the paper she brought, frowning at the questions.]

...Not to cast anchor too quickly for anything, but I've never done anything like this before. Please bear with me.

[He idly motions a hand towards the couch, as he takes a seat himself on a chair]

It's fine.

[If Morgan were more savvy to modern references she would perhaps realize right now the irony of her being the one of the two of them taking the couch. She sits, eyes moving over the list of questions again, and she bites her lip. Already she has things written next to most of them. On a few questions she hesitated, either leaving them blank or scratching out her original answers. It's these she supposes she wants to address.]

I'm not at all certain, but I think most of these are things that I should answer alone, but I'm stopped on a few. This is something that will be read and commented upon by other Wardens. I guess it's so we'll be more accountable. But I want you to know what I'm writing, and there are some questions I should not answer until I've conferred with you.

[His expression darkens] So you'll be airing my progress to them? [He looks away, glaring at an artsy photograph on the wall. Hmph. Gift from an ex. That always makes it easier to glare it] It's not their business.

[Morgan winces.]

I thought you would want this. You clearly don't think I'm doing a good job -- I thought...well, I thought this might be a way to catch my mistakes before I make them, or in time to correct them at least.

[She explains herself but she clearly doesn't have a lot of fight in her right now; she thought she'd be doing the wrong thing by avoiding the report altogether.]

I thought I might be doing you a disservice if I ignored it or went ahead with it without talking to you first.

[Now he looks at her, a bit perplexed]

I didn't say I had a problem with the report. I don't like the idea of you sharing it. That's all.

Well who do you think would end up reviewing it if it wasn't shared? The Admiral marks our progress on his own and he's not the sort to critique. [She frowns.] I told you I've never done this before. I'm open to suggestions.

[He shrugs a little] Let's just get this started.

[She nods and glowers at the paper. She hates these number ratings.] I've done my best to be honest about this. Anyplace here where I've had to rate something as less than satisfactory, those things have been mostly my doing, and I've said so. All issues with communication, all setbacks -- they're things to work on, but I feel like before this report existed we sort of addressed a lot those things ourselves.

[Stopping on 'How much do you believe your Inmate trusts you?' she frowns and moves on to another question she's had trouble with.]

The report also suggests setting a goal for each month. Something we can both accomplish together.

[He relaxes in his chair a little] I don't suppose a goal of you keeping your nose out of my friends' business [Yup, he and Charlie are friends again] would be much of a goal, would it?

[Alright, so that's a bit catty. He looks down at his hands, clasping them together] I don't know.

[She doesn't respond to the first statement. Either she doesn't know how to or she lacks the desire to even argue or even ask what he meant. She frowns at his final answer; it's clear she's not happy with her own contribution.]

I don't know either.

[Was it this hard before? she wonders]

Great. Why don't we set a goal of me not killing anybody for a month and call it a day.

I'd like to get to the point where I can talk to you again.

[To be honest, he wants that, too, but there's still too much residual hurt and anger over being more or less ignored when he needed her (save for the occasional "Are you okay?"), because Rube, Charlie Prince and her own dreams were more important, more appealing to her. Why should he trust her based on her word?]

Then write that down.

[She nods, but she scribbles the note in her journal rather than on the paper itself.]

I'll figure something out.

[Her eye stops on the trust question, and she scribbles down an almost resolute 4, then stands.]

Thank you, Major.

...that's it?

[What a waste of his time. He stands and motions to the door] You can show yourself out.

[Then he goes back to his own bedroom]

I just don't want to--

[Her voice has died out completely before she even realizes she was only murmuring, and she grimaces when he leaves the room.]

Damnit.

[She picks her way to the door and lets herself out.]

True, but without people, what would be left?

Just one Inmate to work with and no distractions.

But that would cut out the social benefits, Fraulein.

I hear that about a lot of jobs.

Yeah?

Yeah. Most jobs, in fact. Except for the ones that don't involve dealing with anyone.

Oh, people are fine. Normal, everyday, people are fine. Hostile people aren't that fine. People that are willing to blow your brains out are awful. The Inmates seem to fall into the last two categories...some wardens, also.

I couldn't agree with you more.

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