Fandom Island and Town

The whole thing was entirely fascinating, really.

Angua sat at her desk, leaning back in her chair with her arms folded in front of her. She was listening, with rather impressive patience, to the ministrations of two tiny rodents that stood on the paperwork. She couldn't understand a single thin they were trying to say to her, but she gathered the general idea of it. The squirrel was absolutely livid because the chipmunk had stolen her nut. The chipmunk insisted that the squirrel had threatened her based on her position with the radio station, and it wasn't her nut at all.

Frankly, Angua felt they were both off their nut entirely.

"Listen," she finally said, holding out a hand to stop the bickering before leaning forward on her folded arms on the desk. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but the nut probably came from a tree in either the park or the preserve, which are public lands. Those nuts are anyone's nuts. Anyone can just go out there and grab them, and if you leave your nuts where someone else can grab them, then it's your own fault for not protecting them better. It's really a little bit ridiculous to get all caught up on a single nut, when there are thousands out there, most of them probably better than the nut in question here. Besdies, there are people out there in the world who get by just fine without any nuts at all."

They turned their beady rodent eyes toward Angua a bit dubiously, then looked at each other and sighed. They shrugged, conceded to her the point, and scurried off, leaving Angua to wonder if she seriously just said what she thought she did.

Considering the fact that Ralph looked like he was trying not to titter as he handed her the form to file the claim, yeah, she probably did.

[[ open station is open! ]]

Angua did, sometimes, have an apologetic streak, and she was feeling fairly bad about how she acted last week. In light of a waning moon, it was easy to sit back and wonder how she could act that way. So she'd left a nice can of polish for his uniform in Ralph's locker as a way to make up for all the growling and snapping and threatening to do very painful things to certain sensitive body parts.

And while Gibbs didn't handle her paperwork and therefor she had no real reason to try to make it up, she felt bad enough to leave just a small bag of really nice coffee for him.

Of course, one could argue that you might leave a good impression by not getting into people's lockers at all, but that just wasn't how a Watchman did things.

Angua settled behind her desk, looked her in box over, and got to work.


[[ open station is open. I almost just wrote 'openation' ]]

What Angua was doing at the station on a Saturday morning was a very good question; if anyone knew the answer, she'd appreciate it greatly if they'd share it. Because she certainly didn't know.

She did know that she was feeling a little restless and a little bored, and maybe some part of her brain had the ridiculous notion that if she came in for just a few hours in the morning, she could make enough of a dent in her paperwork that, on Monday, it wouldn't seem like such a heavy load. A very small part of her brain. One most likely delusional.

Especially since when she came in, it was not to her desk that she went first, but to the coffee maker.

It did seem rather quieter here on a Saturday morning, she'd give it that.


[[ expecting, natch, a particular encounter, but station is SOOOOOO so so very open. So much. And, if Angua's met you and you're different, but you don't mind her being able to still tell who you are by scent, please let me know! ]]