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[Flashback - Pre-curse Storybrooke] All In A Day's Work ~ William & Mariana.
By the age of thirty, most people had figured out their stance on children – One, plenty, wouldn’t touch them with a bargepole – But William de Laci remained undecided. On one hand, he was definitely the settling-down sort, eager to maintain a strict sensibility and predictability to the progress of his life; on the other, his attempt at relationships always seemed to turn sour, always some complaint at the amount of time he spent in the office, or unjustified disappointment as she discovered that, behind the pretty face, he wasn’t the rough-tough-save-the-world sort she had been hoping for, but a considerate, conservative bank manager, the least exciting specimen known to mankind.
Will believed in the job; he trusted in the job. While his small apartment was made smaller when he left in the dark and returned home in the dark, cluttered with books and files and folders filled with notes, he enjoyed the certainty of the job, the routine of the job. The closest he got to SAS hero was strategy and planning and method. But he’d worked his way to the top of the God-damned job, even in a town this size, and he was damned if he would be thrown off-course by one measly, surprise school visit.
Craig Kinley, who usually dealt with the finances of Storybrooke’s joint schools, had grovelled in sick that morning, leaving Will to pick up the pieces. He couldn’t say that he was utterly delighted to be left in the firing line, but his expression was the picture of professional ambiguity as he arrived on the school site, signed in awkwardly with a staring receptionist and clipped an ugly, laminated visitor’s badge to the breast pocket of his jacket.
6A, he’d been instructed – Room 6A, with a vague wave off down one long-lost corridor and a giggly smile – Which made fuck all difference to his sense of direction. Kids were one things, but schools themselves were quite another. It took him ten minutes to find the bloody room. A gold ‘6A’ glinted off a royal blue door, half-open to reveal the classroom within. Will knocked thrice, poking his head around the door to address the young woman in her deserted habitat. Must be breaktime. “Miss May, I presume…? William de Laci, from the accountancy. I’m afraid Craig couldn’t make it today.”
Today I shot a commercial in a pet store that obviously hadn’t been cleaned in a while. It stunk so horribly that I got nauseous. My boss used to work in a funeral home and he compared the smell to a “decomp.” It was horrid. Then this afternoon, I shot a Crimestoppers re-enactment at the corner of the most dangerous street in Greenville. (Nelson St.) It was strangely cool. I guess it helped that I was surrounded by police officers while I shot the footage. Then I stopped by the coffee shop and they knew exactly what I wanted. I guess I order the same thing a lot.
Working on some research about the cultural/political debate over women serving in combat in the US....
Being subjected to the unfounded assertions of career chauvinist Kingsley Browne, who thinks that he doesn’t have to found the arguments in his academic work on anything other than his own sexism.
Also: if anyone who follows me is themselves a female service-member or veteran of any branch of the armed forces and would be up for speaking me with about their opinions and/or experiences, please get in touch. I’d love to hear from you.