Current mood:

crafty

Gratitude [for Bradley, vanquisher of clowns]
Alan is certain that, except in very specific instances (those concerning Denny), gratitude serves no purpose but to make him feel uncomfortable. Gratitude in itself always seems an inadequate reward for any act eliciting it and so Alan’s left with the restless feeling of needing to do something. As though he’s allowing some potential to go to waste.

“In its way, this is just as problematic as sitting there in court and…well, no point in dwelling. Not that I don’t appreciate his help—and therein lies the problem—but the idea of spending any period of time in Brad Chase’s debt…”

“I’m not listening,” his assistant informs him, voice as matter-of-fact as her intermittent tapping of keys. She had not been exaggerating when she informed him of her typing skills.

“And to think, all this time I could’ve been discussing your,”—Alan pauses to pluck a piece of lint from his sleeve—“outfit.”

“Now you have my attention,” she says, shoving her chair back from the desk. “So you know, when I threatened to write you up, I didn’t mean it literally. I already have the paperwork filled out. All it takes is a signature.”

Alan studies her for some brief period of time falling between “a moment” and “sexual harassment,” slight frown creasing his features. Finally, he says, “You’re thorough. I like that.” Before she can reply (but after she opens her mouth to do so, as it’s a rather nice expression) he continues, “I’ll be out of the office for an hour or two, Melissa, so please take the opportunity to bask in your freedom from the oppression of the male gaze.”

As she watches him set off toward Brad’s office, she mutters under her breath, “I knew there was something going on between the two of you.”

Alan raps smartly on the door to Brad’s office, unsure whether he wants to be interrupting anything or not, but pleased to have formulated a plan to dispense with the gratitude once and for all.