 Bathes in Maple Syrup | Dancing Lobster | Moy Pomidor | Seneca's Beard | That Is So Fetch!
Frankie didn't move for a long moment. His fingers stopped their rhythm against the desk. He let the silence stretch—not out of cruelty, but calculation. Let her words sink into the walls of the office. Let her feel, just for a moment, what it meant to say it aloud. A promotion to Hit Witch. She had come in here with fire in her lungs, and now she'd taken that fire and poured it neatly into a single, crystalline request.
"Hit Witch," he repeated, quieter than before. Not dismissive. Simply testing it.
He stood then—not sharply, but with a weight, a deliberateness that matched hers. He crossed over to the window, where sunlight was spilling generously across the valley. After giving one of the detectors nearby an idle twirl, he clasped his hands behind his back, speaking without turning to her.
"You're not wrong," he replied simply. "You've put in the work. You've gone above your assignments, handled high-pressure incidents better than some who've worn the badge for years. Your record speaks for itself. And as much as you may have felt overlooked, Gabrielle... you haven't gone unnoticed."
A pause followed. It was at this point the department head returned to his desk. Frankie reached inside a drawer and retrieved a letter template. "I had a feeling you'd come to me eventually," he admitted as he sat down and started filling in the empty lines. "Your promotion will be effective immediately. Unless you'd prefer to wait until the start of next week, of course."
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Last edited by Zoe; 04-05-2025 at 11:12 PM.
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