1965-05-18 - The Newest Paralegal
Summary: After finding Jen's business card, Rosemarie follows up and begins her new journey as a paralegal for the green giantess's law firm.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
rosemarie jennifer-walters 

"Miss Walters?" Jen glances up from her heavy work-desk, blinking as she refocuses on the entrance to her office. Her secretary, Margaret, glances at the notepad in her hands, reading it again before speaking. "A miss Rosemarie Falcroft is here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment," Margaret says. Her lips thin— she has strong feelings about appointments. "But she did call head," she adds. Dressed in clothing so severe it could pass for a nun's habit, she looks like the admission pained her a little.

"Rosemarie! Of course, bring her in," Jen says, looking pleased. She puts her pen (an expensive Mont Blanc) into the little cradle for it and rises, smoothing out her pinstriped jacket and skirt. It's a daring sort of fashion, but when you're already big and green, why not dress stylishly as well? It looks like someone playing off a mob lawyer's attire, but she makes it work.

She gets to the door just as Margaret curtly beckons Rosemarie over from the waiting area, and flashes a warm smile at Rose. "It's so nice to see you!" she tells the other woman. "What brings you to the fifteen hundred block?"

In the presence of the formidable Margaret, the brunette librarian is almost a showcasing in polite, strained manners. Dressed in a loosely-fitting jumper of pale lavender and lace-patterned ankle-length skirt, she appears to have arrived from the end of her shift at the library. At her shoulder, her courier bag, with a little bubble proving contents to be a lunch she half-finished. Her smile to Jen is abjectly thankful in a wordless way and she looks up at the green giantess as she replies,

"Th-Thanks for seeing me, J-Jen. I-I-I…w-well," and she takes a centering breath as if to try to ward off the stuttering. "Rememb-b-ber the b-business card y-you g-gave me? And the offer? I thought I'd c-c-come and t-talk to you about it."

"Of course, of course! C'mon in!" Jen slips an arm around Rosemarie's shoulders encouragingly (and to shield her from Margaret) and escorts her into the office, pushing the door mostly shut behind her. "Please, take a seat," Jen offers, waving at the two chairs facing her desk. It's a nicely appointed office— a little conference table in the corner, big windows. Her desk is absolutely monstrous, scaled with the green giantess, and the two chairs in front of it are deliberately a little higher-balanced so people can sit on an eye level with her.

"Want something to drink? Coffee, water?" Jen inquires, pausing near the little settee adjacent to her desk.

The plush give of the guest chair is to be admired as she sits and Rosemarie looks up from testing the relative 'cushiness' of the arm-pads with her fingers. Ooh, squishy.

"C-Coffee sounds g-g-great," she replies, flashing a small but true grin that plumps her freckled cheeks in passing. Her expression pales a touch uncertain and she drops her doe-eyes to her skirt as she brushes at it, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles. "I'm n-not sure if I w-w-was remembering c-correctly, but was it a…paralegal position?" Her brown eyes lift to Jen once again.

"Coffee it is," Jen says. She pours a cup for Rosemarie and brings it over to the other woman, setting cream and sugar on a little service at the edge of the desk in easy reach of the slender librarian. She gets another cup in turn, for herself, and ladles heaping amounts of sugar and cream into it with a happy disregard for caloric intake.

She rests her hips against the desk near Rosemarie and crosses one long leg over the other at the ankle. "It is a paralegal position," Jen confirms, nodding. She sips her coffee and brushes a little strand of green back from where it's teased out of her neat bun. "Basically a legal secretary. There's a ton of research that has to be done for every new case. Not just state laws and codes— judicial precedents, case rulings, that sort of thing. It's a lot of legwork and it can be really tedious, but no lawyer can do what we do without a good research team backing us up. Nothing's more embarassing than your opponent finding some case precedent you overlooked."

Enough cream goes into the cup of coffee to lighten it by several shades. Rosemarie too stirs in at least two spoonfuls of the sugar and stirs even as she listens to precisely what the position entails.

"Research I'm g-good at," she says with no real pride, but instead a quiet honesty. "Y-y-you saw w-what I can f-find. It seems awfully imp-p-portant though, and I have n-no legal…history." She holds her coffee cup closer to her body now.

"No one does," Jen says, shrugging. "That part of it just comes with time and practice, like any other skill. You start seeing the ways that various topics interact with one another. And you start remembering cases you researched in the past. Sometihng on, say, property law might apply to a contractual dispute. Or a criminal proceeding might relate to a ruling on land use. It all ties together. Biggest thing is being able to read a card catalogue, taking good notes, and work quickly if it calls for it. It's not easy work, you'll need to be ready to pull all nighters and do rush jobs on research if something comes up in a case we didn't anticipate." She flashes a grin at Rosemarie. "Personally, /I/ think it's a lot of fun, but it's definitely not 'easy'. There's a lot of pressure to get it right the first time, and consequences for being sloppy or lazy. Not a lot of people can hack it."

Rosemarie nods and her eyes are downcast as she sips at her coffee. Mmm, enough sugar to take away most of the bite, but not all of it — and this particular blend is something different, with notes from beans she likely hasn't ever tasted.

"I'm n-n-not sure about staying up l-l-late. I w-w-wouldn't be quitting m-my other job, at the l-library. I d-do work mornings sometimes. I'm n-n-not d-doing it for the m-money either," she adds more quietly still, as if it's a sin to even suggest she'd be doing as such. "I…thought it w-was interesting. And y-you're very n-nice. A f-f-friend."

"I'm not a slavedriver," Jen laughs, patting Rosemarie's shoulder for gentle reassurance. "I'm talking, worst-case scenario here. It doesn't come up often. Mostly it's just research and note-taking, which I'm pretty sure you'd be great at."

She sips more of her coffee, holding it negligently in one hand with her elbow resting on her hip. "How about we just start with a couple days a week?" she suggests. "You can come in, do some low-priority work. That's where I need really deep study, rather than trying to shotgun it and see what sticks. And if you find you like the work, we can talk about where things might go down the road."

She offers a sweet smile to Rosemarie. "You've been a friend to me as well— it'd be fun to work together, but I'm the kind of crazy that works hard and plays hard. So my version of fun miiiight not mesh with yours," she says, her tone lighthearted and teasing at Rosemarie just a touch, to break the ice.

The brunette cross her ankles almost beneath the chair as she bites at one corner of her lip, at first too shy to laugh. The little curve of lips, though, that betrays her.

"I s-saw h-how you p-p-play, yes. I'll h-have to g-get m-more dresses, I think. Unless y-you d-don't fraternize w-w-with staff?"

"Why /else/ would I have staff?" Jen asks, wrinkling her nose. She laughs herself, dismissing her rhetorical question. "I'm kidding. You don't make it long in the legal field unless you can blow off steam with your co-workers once in a while. It helps to see each other as humans, instead of just competition or subordinates. It's too much of an emotional rollercoaster otherwise. Lawyers don't have long shelf lives," she explains. "I see obits in the Harvard Law Review every month of people kicking off. The guys get the gloomies and jump off the roof, or they have heart attacks at their desks. The women mostly turn in their JD for a Mrs. Degree when they want to have kids. I'm kind of a rarity, in that I don't want to get married, /or/ have kids," she explains, wryly. "Which simplifes things a bit."

Rosemarie smiles up at the green giantess. "I'm n-n-not m-married or have k-kids, so this m-m-makes us peas in a pod." She then freezes up and goes wide-eyed and then quails a little, flushing red across her cheeks and ears. "I d-d-didn't mean that ab-b-b-bout your skin, I p-p-p-promise," she rat-a-tat-tats out before putting a hand over her mouth to stifle an embarrassed giggle. "Oh….dear me." The whisper disappears into her coffee as she sips at it. Risking a look up at Jen, she continues almost sotto-voce, "I w-w-would like t-t-to try a few d-days a w-week then, if y-y-you d-don't mind. W-W-Would I need to wear suits? Skirts? Formal?"

"For shame!" Jen clucks her tongue— but she's laughing all the same. "It's okay, hon. I've got thick skin, literally /and/ proverbially. I wouldn't make it long as a lawyer or a woman in this town if I couldn't take it on the chin once in a while. Hang around, though, you'll see I give as good as I get."

"I absolute do not mind you working a few days a week," Jen confirms. "Business attire is preferred. You'll need at least one outfit appropriate for court, though. Trousers and a jacket, or a knee-length skirt and a subdued blouse. Navy's a good color when in doubt," she offers. "Rest of the work day, just don't show up with the latest fashions from Vogue. We're here to work, not impress each other with our fashion sense— and there are a couple of guys who are a little, uh…" she drops her voice, "over-forward, so dressing sensibly helps discourage them a bit. Or a swift bust to the chops. How's your right hook?"

Realizing that she's not blown her shot at this new potential gig of hers, Rosemarie sits up a littl taller in her chair. She tilts her head to one side, almost avian in mannerism, and her brown eyes gain the slightest light of cautious happiness. She nods to the suggestions as to attire and then laughs once, almost wryly.

"The…Otherness w-w-wouldn't l-let them g-get close," she says even as she reaches back to scratch behind an ear. Pinfeathers do tickle so, but they hide well enough beneath the darker waves of her hair, pulled into a half-tail today. "I can p-p-punch hard enough, I think. Either that or sc-c-care them badly. M-Most p-people don't handle the f-feathers well." She shrugs lean shoulders beneath the folds of the loose jumpers. "W-When should I c-c-come in? The f-first day?"

"Well, now you know a good metahuman defense attorney, so— whatever you gotta do," Jen laughs. "Anyway. Let's say Monday after next?" she says, glancing at her calendar. "Gives you time to shop a little, get some clothes and shoes. There are a couple of books on research you might want to pick up— I'm sure the law section at the library has them," she tells Rosemarie. "Basic primers on vocabulary, index systems, that kinda thing. I'm sure you'll pick it all up in no time flat though."

The brunette nods and leans forwards. She places her coffee cup on the desk before asking, "D-Do you h-have any suggestions? N-Names of b-b-books?" She rotates at the waist to open the flap of her courier purse. After some rustlng and rooting about, she reveals a small spiraled notebook and a pen already slipped by the clip onto the tightly-circled wiring. With a quaintness bordering on funning just the slightest, she turns to a clean page and sets the pen tip to the paper, looking up at Jen most expectantly. The dimple in the corner of one side of her mouth probably gives her hesitant attempt at tease away.

Jen rattles off three book titles for Rosemarie, and waits patiently for her note taking to finish. "Don't worry, there won't be a test on them or anything. It's just to help make things a bit more familiar. There are a few other paralegals in the common pool— nice ladies, they're all smart and work hard— they'll help you navigate around while you're getting your feet under you," she promises Rosemarie. "There's nothing so urgent that it can't wait until you've double-checked it."

"Okay?" she inquires with a smile. Rising, she collects the dishware and puts it on the coffee table. "I need to get back to the grind. Monday after next— 8 AM sharp," Jen tells Rosemarie. She offers a gentle handshake once Rosemarie is on her feet. "Welcome to the firm!"

The writing is neat and quick, a quirk known to those about the library. There's a bit of shorthand, but nothing that can't be deciphered by most of the populace. Rosemarie clicks the pen away and hangs it on the notebook's spiral. The courier purse's flap makes a muffled snap as she fastens it shut, the titles of the books stashed away.

Pushing off on the arms of the chair, she takes the green giantess's hands with a genuine sparkle in her cinnamon-brown eyes. "Thank y-y-you, Jen. I'll b-be here at 8am, on the dot. I'm excited t-to meet the others t-too. D-Don't w-w-worry, I'll get those b-books and read through them." A faint blush touches her cheeks. "Thanks again!

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