Fourth rule of Fight Club ...
“Do you see what I see?” The Secretary of the Interior asked the Secretary of the Exterior.
“A bunch of people who don’t want to be at this shindig trying to drown their tedium in the open bar? Yeah, I see what you see.”
“There.” Holding him by the top of the head, the Secretary of the Interior swiveled the other Secretary’s head first in one direction.
“My gods! It’s Laura and the President with their heads together going over some paperwork. Alert the media!”
And then in another direction. “And there.”
The Secretary of the Exterior shrugged. “A shmuck.”
“That isn’t just any shmuck.” The Secretary of the Interior again turned the other man’s gaze to Laura.
With a grin, the Secretary of the Exterior finally caught on. “Laura left her date unattended. Want to go frak with him?”
“There really needs to be a sign like at the airport - Do not leave your baggage unattended.”
Casually moving to stand near, but not next to Laura’s date, the Secretary of the Interior commented. “Laura looks fabulous.”
The Secretary of the Exterior nodded. “The plastic surgeon did an incredible job.”
“Plastic surgeons. A job that size takes the team approach.”
Taking the bait, Laura’s date approached them. “Sorry I couldn’t help but overhear you two. So she’s had some work done you say?”
Playing it cool, the Secretary of the Interior and the Secretary of the Exterior exchanged a glance, but said nothing in response.
Laura’s date made a guess. “It’s her breasts, isn’t it? They’re fake, aren’t they? I knew they were too perfect to be real.”
“No, those are real. The doctors prescribed a hormone to make them grow bigger.”
“Really? They can do that? So what did she have done?”
“She had her chin shaved.” The Secretary of the Exterior answered.
“You mean waxed? I hadn’t noticed anything there, but I guess that’s the whole point of having it waxed.” Laura’s date shrugged. “Lots of women have a little hair problem there.”
“No, I meant shaved.”
“She had the bone shaved to be smaller. To look less masculine.” The Secretary of the Interior explained.
“She had her chin bone shaved?” Laura’s date sounded incredulous.
The Secretary of the Interior nodded. “The old chin was just huge.”
“Enormous!”
“Gargantuan!”
“Not at all feminine.” The other Secretary countered.
Not quite sounding like he really believed it, Laura's date threw out the old axiom. “Well … it's what a person looks like on the inside that really matters.”
“So true.” The Secretary of the Exterior agreed.
Helpfully, the Secretary of the Interior added, “And Laura says that all her life she’s felt as if there was this beautiful woman trapped inside of her trying to get out.”
The Secretary of the Interior nodded. “And that’s not half of the work she’s had done. Everybody at the office, we’re all very supportive of her and the changes that she is going through.”
“Completely supportive.” His fellow Secretary agreed.
“I just don’t think any of us could actually date her.”
“Yeah,” the other agreed. “The after picture is nice - very nice - but the before picture …” he mock shuttered.
Laura’s date’s eyes darted to where she stood talking to the President as he whispered. “How bad are we talking here?”
“Pretty bad. Not that it matters - like you said, it’s the person inside that counts.”
“Right! Right.” Laura's date agreed. “Still … “ Laura's date pressed. “ … Cosmetic surgery is all well and fine, but what if we were ever to have children? I know you never know exactly what's in the cards for the future, but just how bad are we talking here?”
The two Secretaries exchanged a look before the Secretary of the Interior counseled him. “I'm pretty sure that children aren't in the cards. The fixtures are mostly in place, but I don’t think the plumbing actually works - if you know what I mean.”
A second later, while by his confused look Laura's date was still trying to process what was just said, the Secretary of the Exterior asked. “So have you two … you know … done the deed yet?”
“What?”
“Have you two ...” The Secretary of the Exterior bent the fingers of one hand into a circle and passed a finger of the other hand through it.
Laura’s date didn’t look like he quite believed what he has just been asked. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
The Secretary of the Interior continued right over him. “I bet she gives great head.”
“She must.” The Secretary of the Exterior agreed. “She has to give the perfect blow job.”
Laura’s date looked back and forth between them while they went on and on.
“She must know exactly what to do to drive a man absolutely crazy.”
“I bet she knows every spot to hit.”
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” Laura’s date asked outraged.
The Secretary of the Exterior shrugged. “It’s a perfectly legitimate question.”
“Yeah, we were just wondering if she was better at it than average. You would think she would be since she used to have the equipment herself.”
“What are you talking about? What equipment?”
“You know …”
Both Secretaries looked down pointedly, but not at the floor.
Finally making the connection, Laura’s date sputtered. “Wait. She had a …” His mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t get the word out. “She used to be …”
Watching Laura’s date’s face turn shades of red, it was hard to contain their glee.
“Oh shit! You didn’t know?” The Secretary of the Interior feigned surprise.
Laura’s date stammered. “I … I let another guy …”
Handing his glass to the Secretary of the Exterior, Laura's date made his way across the room towards Laura. Despite his having already been cleared by security to attend the event, given his brisk pace and the fact that Laura was standing together with the President, he managed to attract the attention of the President's protection detail.
“Think he'll throw a drink in her face and it will drip down and make her dress all see through?” The Secretary of the Exterior asked.
“That's what I was hoping for, but ...” The Secretary of the Interior watched his colleague take a sip from Laura's date's glass.
From the place he was stopped a short distance away from her, her date pointed to Laura.
With her back to his approach, Laura's attention was still on the papers she was working on with the President. Noticing the small commotion, with an irritated looking eye roll Richard gave the nod to let Laura's date through.
Approaching and gripping Laura by the shoulder with one hand, her date whipped her around to be facing him. The fist of his other hand connected with the side of her face.
“He hit her?!” The Secretary of the Interior exclaimed as two of the President’s security detail took the man down before he could land another blow.
“What the frak kind of asshole hits a girl?” The Secretary of the Exterior asked watching the President help Laura back onto her feet.
As they watched the President fawn all over Laura, the Secretary of the Interior admitted, “I didn’t think he would hit her!” Shrugging off his tuxedo coat, the Secretary of the Interior warned. “He is so frakking dead.”
“Right behind you.” The Secretary of the Exterior agreed putting his coat over a nearby chair.
Nearing, they could hear Laura interrogate her date while gingerly touching her cheek, “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Laura’s date twisted trying to get free from the agent holding his hands behind his back. “I can’t believe I let another guy suck my cock tonight!”
Laura looked - understandably - utterly baffled. “You let a guy suck your cock tonight and you’re hitting me?”
“Yeah we might want to hurry up and get over there to shut down the inquiry part of this evening and just get to the sentencing bit.”
“Seriously.” The Secretary of the Interior agreed.
************
Shifting the vases around to make room on Laura’s desk for their boxed lunches, Richard shook his head.
“He’s still sending flowers? It’s been over a week. The guy doesn’t give up, does he?”
The phone buzzed. Through the intercom, he could hear Laura’s secretary. She sounded more exasperated than usual. “He’s on line one again. Can I just tell him to stop calling?”
Richard watched Laura tap her pen against her hand as she thought about it for a minute.
“Absolutely not! Tell him I’m still not taking his calls, but all the flowers he keeps sending are softening my stance. Suggest he send more, but go bigger with the arrangements.”
Richard paused midway through unpacking his sandwich and her salad. “You’re not actually considering taking him back? Laura, the man hit you!”
Laura looked at him like he was an idiot. “Of course I’m not taking him back, Richard!”
It took only seconds for him to figure out what it was that she was playing at. “You’re just letting him waste his cubits by sending you what by now has to be thousands of cubits worth of flowers which you are regifting to all the secretaries in the building.”
“Mmm.”
Richard sighed.
Resting her chin on her hand, she smirked. “We have to be talking tens of thousands of cubits by now. He sends them every hour on the hour. To my home, to the Hall of Education, and to my office here. I’ve run out of people I know to regift them to. I’ve started having the florist redirect them to local hospitals and retirement homes.”
“How long were you two seeing each other?”
“A little over a month.” Laura answered while eyeing his sandwich versus the salad she had requested.
A little over a month didn’t sound like much, but with the way that Laura could find fault with a man successfully getting through a first date was like running a gauntlet. Any relationship making it past a week needed to be measured in dog years to properly be appreciated.
Resolving to stop asking her what she wanted him to bring her for lunch, Richard handed over his sandwich. “I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but have you thought about giving him a second chance?”
She looked at him horrified. “Richard, you were there. You saw what happened. The man hit me!”
“Only because of what Frik and Frak said.”
“I don’t care why he did it! The point is he did it!”
Gods this went against everything he had ever said to a battered woman during all of his years as a prosecutor. “Is it possible that this was a one time thing?”
“Mr. President, is that your new stance on domestic violence? The first hit is free?”
Ignoring the jab, he asked. “Did he ever show any signs of being violent with you before?”
“What do you want me to say here, Richard? It’s okay he’s not a girlfriend beating misogynist. He’s only a homophobe? Or whatever the precise term is for someone who doesn’t like transgender people?”
“Are you sure he’s even a homophobe?”
In answer she turned her face to show him the not quite faded bruise.
“Laura, there’s a difference between being tolerant of homosexuals and not wanting to have a guy suck on your cock.”
“I fail to see the distinction.”
He knew that she was being deliberately obstinate. “It’s not that he hit you - you’re pissed that he believed even for a second that you could possibly be a man.”
She pointed a purloined fry at him. “It’s a legitimate grievance, Richard!”
“Yes, yes, it is.” Richard admitted with a sigh.