fandomtownies | Trooper Station; Monday [07/23].

Rosa was still having trouble getting slime out of her hair, though it still wasn't as clinging and persistent as the simmering irritation inside of her over not only being unaware that there was sketchy stuff going on in the tunnels, but also that she couldn't properly bitch at Kincaid about it and hadn't bitched about it hardly at all except to the Nine-Nine when she went back home because she hated this place.

But she was back, resolving that if Major Meathead waltzed back in because of more slime people in the tunnels, then she'd go ahead and let him do whatever he wanted, because who even cared anymore? Obviously not her boss, so screw it. Besides, she was stuck at her desk anyway, not necessarily because the phones were ringing off the hook, but because Santiago had finally sent her some stuff that she felt might help her if she wanted to get a permanent transfer back home.

"Just a little paperwork, that's all," she said.

Santiago had a very, very skewed perspective of what constituted 'a little' paperwork, especially for someone who thought signing her own name on something was 'too much' paperwork.

If it got her off this island for good, though, she figured it would be worth it to just suck it up and get it done.

[[open station is open!]]

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Clearly. Rosa liked Doctor Buzzkill about as much as she liked anyone (which was to say, hardly at all), but she knew enough, especially from her own medical experience, to know that the woman was at least competent. And passionate. Meanwhile, the only thing Seivarden seemed competent in was shooting things and having a stick up her butt.

Though that did remind her...no, no, she'd take care of that later. Right now, she just shook her head.

"Are you sure it's not just a summer cold?"

Or sweet, sweet karma?

"It's not a cold," Seivarden insisted. "Every time I drink tea I get sick. If I don't drink tea I'm fine. Well..." she made a gesture with her hand, "as fine as you can be without tea."

That had to be pointed out to the uncivilized tea hater.

And here was Rosa, who had been sitting there thinking there was no way she could ever get out of her crappy mood, somehow managing to find a smile.

Oh, this had to be karma.

She didn't even believe in karma.

"Maybe you're allergic."

There was something disturbing to Rosa smiling.

"Allergic to tea? Are you insane? I'm here to tell you there might, might, be someone poisoning the tea on the island, and you're not even going to consider it? Not even file a fucking report or what it is you spend your days doing?"

She hadn't forgotten Rosa's collection of weapons though.

"When you're not shooting fish."

Rosa had to snort a little at the last comment, then held up her hands almost as in surrender to Seivarden's obvious paranoia. "Alright, alright," she said, pushing back her chair and standing to go to the file cabinet to find the right paperwork...whatever that might even be, "I'll file your stupid report. Just don't rule out an allergy. Bodies do weird shit when we get older; one of my sisters went until she was thirty before she developed an allergy to chocolate." She snorted another laugh. "You do not want to know how we found out about that."

She frowned a moment at the ridiculous labels on some of these files. "You want an investigation, too?"

The whole thing was ridiculous, sure, but it would give her something to do. And possibly laugh at with the troopers and the multitude of poison suspects she could dig up.

Seivarden wasn't even going to consider an allergy. No Radchaai got allergic to tea, at least she'd never heard of it.

"I just wanted to report it," she said, sounding tired. "In case someone else shows up an report the same thing, I can't see that an investigation would be necessary."

"What kind of dummy," asked Rosa, unrelenting, "thinks someone's poisoning her, goes through the trouble of reporting it, and doesn't want it investigated? Aren't you always complaining that I don't do anything around here? This sort of thing is literally what my job is."

Even if Seivarden didn't want her to investigate...Rosa had decided she was going to do it, anyway. She couldn't just sit around while there was a nefarious tea poisoner loose on the island, now, could she? What kind of cop would she be then?

Seriously, though, if it wasn't just paranoia or karma, then there really was some psycho poisoning tea, and that wasn't cool. And if not? The whole thing would be hilarious.

"This should work," she said, extracting a form from the cabinet and affixing it to a clipboard. She walked over to Seivarden to hand it over to her, standing much too close, but the unnecessary proximity was probably not nearly as discomforting as the sweetness of her smile, the one that didn't even come close to touching her steady, unwavering eye contact. "You wanna fill this out yourself? Or have a trooper take your statement?"

Seivarden was about to say something in return to Rosa's comment, but she was tired and her head hurt and then Rosa was right in front of her, uncomfortable close, with that disturbing smile and Seivarden just looked back, mouth opening slightly as she tried to focus on what to say.

Oh, yeah. Rosa was enjoying this way too much. She scoffed, shaking her head, turning away to pass the clipboard to the nearest trooper.

"Larry," she said (it was not Larry), "you've got nice handwriting." Probably because she always made him write the statements. "Help her out, will you?"

She cocked her head in the direction that not-Larry waved his arm, to get Seivarden to follow him over to a desk.

Seivarden reached past Rosa to try and grab the clipboard before this Larry got it.

"I'll do this myself."

And of course Rosa was going to keep her grip on the clipboard at least a moment longer once Seivarden reached for it, making her fight for it. Just a little, just briefly. She was a sadist, sure, but not a monster.

"You can have a seat over there," she said, quirking her chin toward a chair once she relinquished the clipboard. "Try to make it legible. Just let me know when you're done."

Seivarden made a frustrated noise as she tugged at the clipboard. As she turned away to walk over to the chair, she muttered quietly:

"Aatr's tits, what's your problem?"

"Problem?" Rosa quirked an eyebrow, stalking back to her desk, dropping into her chair, throwing her feet up on the desk and smirking. She shook her head a little. "No problem. This is the best mood I've been in for weeks."

"So that's what's the problem," she snorted, looking at the form and began filling it in.

That smirk was disturbing. "Have you ended up in the pond again?" Seivarden asked, in an attempt to make it disappear.

A solid effort, really, but it would take more than that to bring Rosa down from this one, especially when that only reminded her of something else.

"Oh, hey," she ignored the question and jerked her chin up, "you planning on being at the bar again tomorrow?"

"Possibly, why?"

Seivarden looked up. She wasn't really feeling well enough to go drinking, but that wouldn't stop her.

"Would you miss me? I'm sure there are other people to punch."

Trooper Station; Monday [07/23].

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