"Your ten o'clock appointment is here, Mr McCoy" Peter said with a sickly smile. Henry P. McCoy looked up with a tight smile, not baring his fangs to the boy in the doorway. He ran a clawed hand back through his hair with a tired sigh, taking off his half moon glasses as he laid the document he was working on down. Sometimes it was so much easier back at the lab,

"I'm not supposed to have any appointments before twelve o'clock, Peter" He said, pinching the bridge of his nose,

"Yes, I know, Mr McCoy" The mans face screwed up a little in distaste, "it's the candidate for the secretarial opening" He said, spitting it out as if it tasted bad,

"Stars and garters! Of course!" Hank resisted the urge to let his head become re-acquainted with the desk, "I knew I'd forgotten something" He looked over at the clock, half past one? "How long has she been here?"

"Since half past nine" Peter said, a malicious little glint barely hidden in the corner of his eye. Henry felt the fur on his neck rise in agitation,

"And you didn't tell me because?"

"I didn't think it was wise to disturb you, sir, after all, you looked so deep into your work" Came the perfectly straight faced reply. Hank resisted the urge to growl,

"Send her in then" He muttered, rooting around for the right papers and a pen and notepad. He looked up as someone cleared their throat, standing up so quickly his chair teetered for a moment. A young woman dressed in a smart blue skirt suit smiled nervously, fiddling with the strap of her bag, "Good afternoon, Miss…er-"

"Caley. Isabelle Caley" She smiled politely,

"Please, sit down. I'm terribly sorry about the wait"

"It's quite alright, sir, I realise you're a very busy man" Hank didn't miss the way her eyes flicked over the mess of his desk and he couldn't help but become terribly aware of his lack of organisation,

"Er, I believe you have some paperwork for me to read over?" He asked,

"Oh, yes" She fiddled around with a bag before pulling out a wedge of paper. She leant over the desk, giving him a good view down her blouse before she sat back. Hank couldn't help blushing, Oh God she smelled good he shook his head, trying to clear himself of the thoughts racing through his mind as he stared down at the paperwork on his desk,

"Well, Miss Caley… He murmured, scanning over the rather impressive CV, "You seem a little over qualified to take the job, may I ask why you want the position?" He murmured, trying his best to focus. The young woman before him frowned a little, the skin around her eyes tightening as she looked down at her folded hands a moment before looking back up at him. He could see no fear or revulsion in her clear blue gaze,

"It sounds silly and sentimental Mr McCoy but my Mother always said that the best employers in the world are often those who started right at the bottom. I've done janitorial work, sir, I've been to college to get my qualifications, I've even had frostbite in the tips of my fingers from collecting cabbages by hand in the middle of winter as well as being applauded when I collected my diploma certificate" She paused a moment, "I want to be a good employer eventually. I would rather work myself up than start higher up and not know if I'm taking advantage of someone or not" She smiled a little, "Besides, I enjoy secretarial work" He sat back, frowning a little as he thought. Yes, she was perfect for the job…but why was he trying to find reasons not to give it to her? Was it because she was too good or was it for some other reason? He shook his head, aware that she had been watching him hopefully for the past few minutes,

"Very well, Miss Caley, you start on Thursday. I'll have Peter fill you in on all the details" He rose to his feet, watching the joy spread over her face as she reached out to him – she reached out to him, his brain nudged him – to clasp his hand warmly, shaking it,

"Thank you, Mr McCoy, thank you so very much" She beamed and he couldn't help smiling in reply, she seemed like such a joyous little creature,

"You're very welcome, Miss, see you Thursday" She paused in the doorway, sending him a beaming grin over her shoulder before closing it softly behind herself. Isabelle Caley he turned the name over in his mind, wondering what the odd feeling was in the pit of his stomach as he flicked his glasses open before perching them on his nose, well, whatever it was, it looked like he'd have to get used to it.