Caroline's Internship

by Katherine Kim

  She saw Ollie the ogre peek out and smile at her from another door, and blinked again. The ten foot tall ogre was wearing reading glasses and a lab coat and smiling broadly, and if she didn’t see the puckered scar on his chin she would never have known it was the same mountain of rage that plowed straight through a wall to completely destroy a half dozen archers making a last stand from the kitchen during the raid.

  Darien lounged in his desk chair and grinned so wide she was half afraid his head would fall off. She grinned back, feeling a bit less awkward. The bloodbond from back then had long since worn off, but they were still close. Darien had kept in touch after the kidnapping and raid, and they’d become pretty good friends. Even her parents liked him. Point steered her that way.

  “Okay, okay, simmer down. You all have things to be doing, I’m sure. D, you take Caroline around, show her where everything is. I emailed you her training schedule this morning, so make sure she knows where she needs to be, and when.” Point turned back to Caroline. “He’ll take you down to personnel to get your paperwork finished up. I know you did most of it already, but there’s always some damn thing. Your desk is here next to D, and I.T. should be by after lunch to get your computer set up. Till then, just get that paperwork done and make sure you know where everything is, or at least who to ask about whatever you’re looking for.”

  “Okay. Got it.” Caroline nodded and glanced at Darien who was still grinning.

  “Hey there, Sunshine. You ready for the tour?” Darien asked.

  Point made a face at him and simply muttered “Behave.” As he walked towards what Caroline assumed was his office.

  “Um, yeah,” she answered.

  “You don’t have to look so spooked,” Darien said, standing and stretching towards the ceiling. “Nobody here bites without express permission.” He winked at her. Winked!

  “Jackass,” Caroline muttered, and he just laughed.

  “Come on, We’ll stop in the lab first. Ollie’s been holed up in there for two days. You’ll be a great excuse to peel him away from his microscope for a minute.” Darien ambled off towards the door the ogre had poked his head out of a few minutes earlier, and Caroline had no choice but to follow.

  The large laboratory was about what she expected, except that everything was made to accommodate the giant body of Ollie himself. Long tables, half of which were extra tall, with various pieces of equipment that she couldn’t begin to identify positioned strategically. A rolling cart with various tools on the shiny metal top was pulled up next to a human-sized man while he held a light over a machine for a tiny woman with extremely long fingers who was prodding a tool inside.

  “Caroline! I’m so happy you chose to take Point’s offer!” Ollie’s grin rivaled Darien’s a few minutes ago. “I was extremely impressed with your ability to keep this idiot alive. You deserve a medal, in my opinion.”

  “Um, thanks?”

  “Hey!” Darien objected loudly. “I was doing okay, thanks. Not that she wasn’t badass or anything, but—”

  “You were either bleeding out and dying, or you lied to the powers that be. Which is it?” Ollie smirked.

  Darien grunted and frowned, and Ollie laughed.

  “You’ll keep this guy in line for us, won’t you?” Ollie’s eyes sparkled.

  “I suppose. If it’s really necessary.” Caroline grinned back, feeling much less anxious than she had an hour ago. This was all going to be okay.

  They left the lab a few minutes later, and Darien showed her the meeting rooms ,and the archive, and Human Resources where two very tired looking people sat on a sofa in the corner, drinking coffee and chatting.

  “Hey D. What’re you back this way for?” one of them asked. She was about Caroline’s height, but her fingers were long and slim, like the woman in the lab, and her ears were even more pointed than an elf’s.

  “I’m showing Caroline around. It’s her first day,” Darien answered. “This is Caroline Peters, our new intern. Caroline, this is Stevie Goodleaf,” the woman stood up and came over to shake hands. “And that is Nelson Wood” The elf on the sofa nodded and saluted with his coffee cup.

  “Pleasure to meet you! We don’t get a lot of actual humans around here. Mind if we pick your brain some?” Stevie asked.

  Caroline gazed around the room with a sense of reverence. It was all lighted mirrors with chairs facing them, and several rolling cases of what looked like makeup tools. There was a shelf of wigs along one wall, and two rolling clothing racks that had zipped-up covers over them. There was a smell of powder and coffee and laundry soap in the air.

  “You guys made Point look amazing when he came to the hospital! If I hadn’t already seen what he really looks like I’d never have known he wasn’t just a huge guy! You’re amazing!” Caroline felt a little starstruck.

  Nelson smiled and murmured “Thank you.”

  Stevie grinned. “Wow. You’ve got him gushing! I can tell that D’s got more for you to do, but you come on by and have a coffee with us sometime. There’s usually room on our couch when we’re not neck-deep in an operation.”

  “Thanks, I will,” Caroline smiled back and let Darien lead her away again. “Man, everyone’s been really nice. I expected tough federal agents to be more… I don’t know. Grumpy and overworked?”

  Darien laughed and they turned to go up the stairs to the next floor. “We are that, too, a lot. But everyone’s excited that you’re here. I’m pretty tough, to be honest. I have faster reflexes than humans and elves, and I’m overall stronger, faster, and harder to hurt than a lot of other beings, and then I’m a trained agent. Those elves still knocked me out and damn near killed me. Then you, an untrained teenager came in and not only managed to get through the ordeal with just a few scrapes and bruises, but you saved my life, took down several of our captors on your own, and confronted an angry elven mage. That’s not exactly unimpressive.” They reached the top of the stairs and he turned to look her right in the eye.

  Caroline blinked at him. “I… I guess I never really thought about it like that.”

  “Well, you should. We’re all pretty excited to have such a badass human around here.” He grinned at her again. “And I’m not going to lie. There’s some folks who are jealous of me for getting to be your unofficial partner.” A shadow flickered through his eyes and Caroline wondered if he minded having to start from the beginning with training her.

  “Well if you say so.” Caroline shrugged, and followed Darien down towards the gym that took up half the floor.

  3

  The rest of the week flew by and by Friday Caroline was ready for a break. After her first day which did turn out to be largely paperwork and meeting people, she’d taken Darien’s advice and worn nice jeans and shirts she could move in. She also went out and bought some workout gear for her morning gym sessions with an excessively chipper elf everyone called Peaches, who had a massive scar down his face from his hairline, over his eye, and across both lips which rippled oddly when he smiled. Which was pretty much all the time.

  Hand to hand combat had never been so cheerful, she guessed. Not that they were to the combat part of the training yet, but it was on the slate for later on. Peaches wanted to get her used to moving and working that hard first, which was a good idea since gym had never been her favorite class, and was even less so after the events that had led her here. Caroline wondered which was more cruel back then: the terrorists who’d kidnapped her and Darien or the mean girls at her high school. Now she knew it was the chipper elven slavedriver in charge of her treadmill time.

  “You’re good for today, Caroline. Make sure you don’t just sit around all weekend, okay? I know you’re probably tired from everything this week, but don’t let it keep you inside!” Peaches handed her a water bottle. “It’s supposed to be gorgeous out this weekend. Go out! Hit one of the state parks nearby! Oh, have you ever gone rock climbing? Do you want to? You should come out with me sometime, I know some great places!”

  Caroline laughe
d. “I went to a climbing gym once, a long time ago, for a friend’s birthday party. It was fun. Not this weekend, though, let me catch my breath, okay?”

  Peaches laughed, too, the sound musical and full of joy. Caroline still didn’t know how he got the scar that was so at odds with his personality. She was sort of afraid to ask him. If the question or the memory upset him she’d never forgive herself.

  “No sweat, we’ve got all summer,” Peaches said. He grinned again. “Once you’re in better shape I’ll drag you out there. Maybe this weekend just find a nice, easy hike to do.”

  “How about the hike to a hot tub somewhere? Everything hurts!” she exaggerated a whine and pouted before turning to the locker room to shower and change.

  Peaches laughed in her wake, and called after her. “As long as it’s after more than five feet of moving, I’ll take it!”

  Caroline was feeling fresh after her shower, though still ready to take a nap. She sat at her desk and reached for the mouse just in time to hear Point call across the office.

  “Greg, D, Caroline! Come on into my office, please!”

  “Uh oh,” Darien raised his eyebrows at her. “What’d we do?”

  “All three of us? Nothing, I think.” Greg shrugged as he walked past their desks to head toward the Chief’s office.

  It was just like in the movies— practically a fishbowl on one side of the busy office space, all windows and venetian blinds. Caroline wondered again if whoever designed this office was a fan of old cop dramas.

  They all filed in and Caroline shut the door behind her before taking a seat on the sofa to one side.

  “Thanks. I’m sending you three to deal with a stolen artifact.” Point didn’t waste any time getting right to it. Turns out that’s where his name came from. Well, nickname, Caroline thought to herself. What his real name was, was anyone’s guess. Nobody ever called him anything but Point.

  “Stolen artifact? What’s the catch? Why’s this fall under our jurisdiction?” Darien asked.

  “The FBI call us in after ghosts showed up again?” Greg leaned back in his chair, tossing a squishy toy puppy towards the ceiling and catching it. “That was hilarious!”

  Point rolled his eyes, but answered. “Actually, those guys don’t know they’re off the case yet, so far as I know. One of the docents called it in to us. She recognized it as an enchanted item a few years ago, but the curator was one of those know-it-all idiots who won’t listen to anyone they deem beneath them.” Point practically growled the last bit, and Caroline heard the genuine irritation in his voice. She didn’t like arrogance either, and this guy sounded like he’d be loads of fun to work with. “Anyway. She called us to let us know that the FBI would need help at the very least. She could tell that the thing was enchanted, and recognized the name of the original owner as a mage, but doesn’t know much beyond that. She’s only a quarter nymph, so she’s sensitive to magic but doesn’t have any really herself.” He slid a thin file folder across the desk and Darien snatched it up.

  Greg leaned over Darien’s shoulder to peer at the contents with him, and then looked over to Caroline and grinned. “Come on, we don’t bite. Usually.”

  Darien didn’t even look, just reached over and smacked Greg’s arm.

  “Oh, um. Okay.” Caroline stood and walked over to peer over Darien’s other shoulder. “And Darien already made that joke.”

  “Everyone always makes that joke,” Darien tossed her an amused glance. “Then they get mad that I beat them to it.”

  The paper they were looking at seemed to be a printout of a museum website page. There was a photo of a musical instrument that looked a lot like the flutes played by snake charmers in old cartoons. It was long and narrow for maybe two feet, with a bulbous part about a third of the way down, and a flare at the end. It was, according to the paper, made of wood and brass, with citrine and quartz adornments. There were puff-cheeked clouds blowing gusts of wind at each other and birds sailing merrily around in the resulting breezes etched all over the surface of the instrument.

  “It’s certainly pretty,” she said. “I’ve never heard of a shawm before.”

  “Apparently they were more common in the renaissance. This one was made, or at least adapted, in around 1756 by a wind mage who dabbled in trading,” Point said. He scrubbed a hand over his face and groaned. “Phineas Morgan, apparently, made a habit of enchanting random shit. It seems that we have, somewhere in an evidence locker, one of his more whimsical items. It’s a chair that makes farting noises when someone sits down in it.”

  Greg barked out a laugh, and Caroline felt her eyebrows rise.

  “I didn’t know that mages were into practical jokes. I thought they were all stuffy old—” Caroline’s eyes widened as she cut herself off and Greg laughed harder.

  “Stuffy old farts?” he gasped.

  “Um, yes,” she said. Point and Darien shook their heads, but they were both grinning.

  “Well, some are. But some are just practical jokers. Or arrogant, egotistical lunatics.” Everyone in the room sobered as they remembered the ex-chief who was still working his way through the justice system while in prison. Nobody was worried that his lawyer would get him out, but it would take a while before the final sentence was handed down.

  “Yeah. Everyone’s just people, I guess,” Caroline shrugged. “So what does this do?”

  “It’s in there, somewhere, but I’ll tell you anyway,” Point said. “We’re not sure, but we think that’s a horn he enchanted to help his ships keep on schedule, or ahead of it. He created a few objects that could call up a wind to fill the sails of his ships, and that horn seems like a perfect candidate for that purpose.”

  “That seems logical,” Darien nodded. “This theft. Was the shawm the only thing taken?”

  “That’s in there, too, but no. A few other things were taken from nearby cases, but the docent who called it in thinks it’s likely that the horn was the goal, and the other things were a smokescreen. They weren’t especially valuable pieces. The horn itself isn’t wildly valuable, intrinsically. It was part of an exhibit on the history of trade by sail since it was purchased as part of the estate of a retired sea captain and had clearly gone to sea with him,” Point waved his hand in front of his face and shrugged. “I don’t really understand it all very much. You should ask Serena about it when you get there. I’m sure she’s a fount of knowledge, what with being a docent in a museum and all.”

  “So we’re heading down then?” Greg leaned forward, eager as a puppy.

  “Yep. All three of you,” Point grinned at them each in turn. “Try not to destroy anything expensive or get kidnapped, hmm?”

  “It was ony one time!” Greg protested, loudly. “How was I supposed to know that table was an antique? And who leaves irreplaceable ceramics out on a flimsy table like that anyway?”

  “It was a historic home, Greg.” Darien grinned, and Caroline got the feeling that this was a long running argument. “Everything there was irreplaceable. Including the table.”

  Greg threw his hands up and grunted.

  “Um, you want me to go too?” Caroline asked quietly. “Are you sure? I mean, aren’t there rules against this? Won’t I just be in the way?”

  Point leaned back in his chair. “There are some rules, sure. But mostly we here in the FPAA make our own rules. The Director is fairly relaxed about these things due to the nature of our job. Magic tends to cause some difficult to categorize problems, and if we tried to make regs for each possibility, we’d never be able to move from our desks,” Point said. “I’ve got some leeway here, and I think I’ve been pretty clear that I want you here permanently, not just for an internship. So consider this the first case of your long and illustrious career.” He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming in the sunshine streaming in the street-side windows.

  “Uh…”

  Greg’s hand landing on her shoulder startled her and she jumped.

  “Give it up, Caroline. Arguing with him will only give you a h
eadache,” he said. “We’ve got a case to review and some overnight bags to pack.” He headed for the door.

  “Yeah. Save your patience for putting up with that guy for the next however long this case takes,” Darien said as he stood up, file in hand.

  “Actually, you three are going to be working together for the foreseeable future,” Point said with another shark-like grin. “Assuming you don’t murder the two of them halfway through this case. I need someone to rein in that one,” he pointed to Greg. “And keep this one from getting too into his own head.” He pointed to Darien.

  “I’m not sure what you expect me to do, but I’ll give it a try, I guess,” Caroline said. Point winked at her and she followed Greg out to their desks.

  “So what do we do first?” she asked as she sat down. Greg pulled his chair over to their desks and propped his feet up on Darien’s desktop. D shoved the boots off as he sat down himself and Greg almost fell flat on his face.

  “No feet on my desk, Greg. First we go over what we know about the artifact and the people involved, and try to get the name of the FBI agents assigned to the case. Then we pack up and roll down there and see what we can do.”

  “I hope they’re not going to be territorial jerks this time,” Greg groaned. “Last case I took like this I spent half my time squabbling with them, and the other half actually working on the case.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out,” Darien said. “Now let’s see what we’ve got.”

  4

  “We’ll be there for the weekend, but unless we need to follow up, I think we can work the rest of this from the office,” Darien said. He was driving, which was good since Caroline was watching Greg snore in the back seat like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His head was thrown back on the top of the seat, his blonde hair almost glowing in the sunshine pouring in the windows and his whole, huge body looking almost looking boneless in his relaxation.