The redhead blushed a little at the compliment, her own smile widening. It wasn’t often she was greeted so warmly like this, especially by other Rockets.

“Well, most of them have an attitude problem. Mostly because I’m being ‘too nice.’” She made quotation marks with her hands. “But hey, I learn to live with it. So… Have you been with Rocket long?”

Jax adjusted his gloves slightly, loosening them up as he spoke.  “There is no such thing as being too nice. Well, not that I think. What is the saying; “Kill your enemies with kindness”?” he muses, smiling again. “Being nice should come to all naturally, though it seems that some forget that rule of life. And now I’m babbling, I apologize.”

"Seven? That's an awfully long time to be in Rocket. Although I've been here for around nine years... Since I was eighteen years old."

Her tone fell a little flat at recalling the memory, but she quickly banished it as she remembered something important.

Linda blinked in surprise as she snapped out of her stare, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed. Nevertheless, she did the polite thing and shook his hand.

Agent Buson had seen the medical wing so many times that it felt like a second home. That might have explained why he was taking up a whole corner of the triage area.

He was sitting squarely in a chair like any regular person might, but his legs were splayed, rendering the chairs on either side of him ‘occupied’. As if that wasn’t enough, he also had one foot resting on a chair opposite him. The other was planted on the floor, but he was rapidly bouncing his leg. A small motion, but enough to irritate the nurse on reception, who would shoot him a warning glance now and again.

His left hand was acting as a makeshift ‘pillow’ between his head and the wall behind him, occasionally scratching the back of his neck. He was using his phone with his right, trying to respond to a message, but the tissue paper that he’d wound thick and tight from fingers to wrist was restricting his movement. Blood had started to soak through, especially around his knuckles; since he’d washed his hand before wrapping it up, it must have been his own blood this time.

His phone rang, the opening riff of a classic rock song breaking through the quiet. Startled, the nurse at reception dropped his pen and glared at Buson, but his annoyance went unnoticed.

With a deep breath, she prepared herself to enter into the waiting area, armed with pen and clipboard to tick off the patient's name. She had to feign confidence. Not confidence in her job, but in dealing with someone who could very much get her into trouble if things went awry. Opening the doors, she called out his name.

"Agent Buson?"

That must have been him, the guy on his phone with the blond hair. A very handsome man at that, even if he did have a bloodied bandage on his hand. He was almost spot on to the type of person she'd imagined: a bodybuilder type, dyed hair (that couldn't be natural, especially as her own hair was dyed a brighter red than her normal), very masculine... The flirtatious type. She waited until she caught his attention, then smiled politely.

At best, that had to be a partial truth. 

Elisabetta stopped to look at the young woman, dark eyes lingering on her face, but the nodded and said nothing. As if she’d bought it.

“Won’t you pour us some tea, darling?”

Linda focused on the dark eyes that felt like they were bearing into her soul, not daring to move an inch. She expected more questions, but instead the Rocket boss appeared to have brushed it off.

"Tea? Oh, of course!"

Then came the tricky part. Did Elizabetta prefer her tea prepared according to Kantonian custom or otherwise? If she got this wrong, this could be a crucial part in making or breaking their relationship.

Going with her gut instinct, she prepared it the foreign way to Kantonian and Johtonian tradition, feeling that she was a woman who favoured different tastes.

“You don’t have to be so nervous! I’m not going to bite you, dear.”

Elisabetta laughed lightly, but Linda’s reaction was quickly noted down- along with every other impression.

"Why am I here? Well, it's rather a long story... But I owe a huge debt to Rocket. For saving my sister and for giving me the medical knowledge and training."

What did she want? Stability, security and to not be made to commit any crimes was what she wanted to say. But obviously, she didn't. She could lie...

"I want Rocket to give me all the expertise it has to make me a better nurse. I want to be able to thrive here, to be a part of its success."

Well, it was a half truth at best.

“Actually, I’ve called you here to talk about you. Let’s call it a human resources meeting.”

Weirdly familiar- was she planning something? Or merely plotting to lull her into gullibility? It was difficult to tell, to be sure. Elisabetta offered no clues.

The woman gestured regally to the seat on the other side of her desk.

To talk about her?

"Right. Of course!"

So many questions gathered in Linda's mind, but she dared not ask any. Instead she sat in the chair that her boss gestured to, hands in her lap as she sat upright and rigid.

Sean groaned at the very thought, stretching and shuddering. Why did the Grunts get all the sucky beta-version uniforms? It just wasn’t fair.

Still. The adults both seemed to be enthused over the malasadas… and the mix came with a recipe.

“Okay, so they included the yeast, and a mix of like, flour and sugar and stuff. We need… six eggs. And butter, and… evaporated milk? Where am I supposed to get that?”

She sighed as she answered Butch's question. When Sean asked about the milk, a thought popped into her head.

"I know a place which sells it very close to here! That is, if you would be alright with me rushing over to collect it. I'm a fast runner."

It was true, too. All those days working out weren't wasted.

I think they will bark at nothing now.

Super woman

Sean’s grin widened when Butch walked in, proudly displaying the sweets. One packet of cookies went flying through the air, heading for the man as he walked in the door.

“Cookies! Catch!”

He, himself, opened up a bag of roasted nuts to snack on.

“There’s stuff in here to make malasadas, too. We can do that for lunch?”

"Hi Butch! You're right; haven't seen you in a while."

She smiled gently at him and then turned back to Sean, her attention being swayed at the mention of malasadas.

"Oh, malasadas! I've never tried one before! Always wanted to but never had the chance before."

By the time Linda actually showed up at the Grunt’s room, Sean was waiting with excitement. His box lay open in the middle of the room, and all around it various snacks: teas, cookies, candy, even the mix necessary to make his own malasadas! 

The bright voice of the redhead couldn't have been mistaken for anyone else. Linda was quick to join Sean after greeting him and stare at the box curiously, wondering just how they managed to cram so much into one crate.

"What goodies have you got for us then?"