Hard Worker (Wynter)

Thump thump thump. Three books, one ontop of the other in a neat stack. Peyton let out a heavy sigh as she heaved the thick books into her short and skinny arms. It reminded her of her days as a lowly librarian, spending her days stacking and stamping books. Asking, "Do you need help finding something? Do you have everything you need?" In the most polite tone as possible. And all that forced social interaction with total strangers... ugh. That job did not do wonders for her social anxiety. If anything, it made it worse. Ah, but nowadays she was stacking books for only one person. Her supervisor and basically her boss, Wynter Geist. She was his research aid, although at times she got the vibe that he didn't enjoy her help. It's not like he would voice his complaints aloud. Wynter was a very quiet man from what Peyton could tell.

What was Peyton doing wrong though? She worked hard, and did all that she could. Whenever he needed something, who got it for him? Her. Hell, at least a little appreciation or thanks would be nice. Peyton never complained about it though. Peyton could only hope it was something that she could easily fix to get him to like her. She absolutely hated working in an environment where she KNEW people didn't like her. But even so.. if she felt out of place then she'd just have to deal with it. For her daughter's sake.

Peyton readjusted her grip on the heavy books and walked back into the room Wynter was in. She slowly approached his desk, and set down the books gently. So gentle that they wouldn't make a noise or shake his desk. "U-uh, sir.. I brought the books like you asked," she said in a soft voice, not wanting to startle him because he seemed so wrapped up in his work.

With each turn of a page, the young man would look back and forth between the book and stack of papers in front of him, jotting a note down. The outer rims of his eyes were darkened, having not slept in two days now. He had one goal here, and one alone. He would pass the State Alchemist exam with flying colors. What he was studying seemed so simple, something that no one would need think about on a regular basis. Glass. You could see through it, into it, your reflection upon it. It could cut, scrape, and be molded into shapes of an artist's choosing. Yet there were uses for it out there that hadn't been thought of, there had to be. Ways of crafting it, turning it into a weapon. So much to learn from so simple a substance.

Turning another page, he didn't even notice his assistant as she walked in until she had placed the books beside him. Stopping his work only momentarily, he staid there, frozen for but a second, before looking to the woman and nodding. Without looking at the paper, his hand moved to the next line on the page and scribbled another note point down. With a blink, he looked back to the books, then to her once more. Over the past few days he'd notice a change about her. Possibly an attempt to earn his favor? He shivered and averted his gaze, continuing to read. While reading, Wynter placed his pencil down and tapped a finger on a note before sliding it to her.

"Take a break for lunch, you've earned it."

Peyton glanced down at the note and gently shook her head. She wasn't hungry. Over the past few months, her appetite had just been deteriorating. Usually she skipped lunch anyways, and just used the time to check on her daughter or get grocery shopping done. Honestly, Peyton didn't really care about her health all that much anymore. The most she did was make sure she wasn't sick and had enough breast milk to give to Anja. That was it.

"Hm... I'll just stay here and work," she mumbled, running a hand through her hair with a worn out sigh. "... I-I think you're the one who needs uh, a break.. a nap would probably do you some good..." She noticed that he'd been working nonstop for the past two days now, and he just looked exhausted. Her boss was smart, but boy was he also stupid. Studying so hard when you're tired wasn't helpful at all. Honestly it made your work worse. If he wanted to become a state alchemist, his work would need to be up to snuff and ship shape. Since her father had been a state alchemist, she always tried her best to give Wynter little hints on things he could do to improve his chances on getting accepted. Did he ever listen? No. Because her boss was TOO DAMN STUBBORN.

"U-uh..." Peyton was about to comment on his writing, but stopped herself. She didn't want to seem like a prick, and he probably hated her enough already. "N-nevermind.." Peyton turned on her heel and headed for the door, leg clunking softly. Clunking was not a good sound. That meant something was loose on her automail. Probably a screw or a bolt. She stopped walked for a moment and glanced down at her leg. She hadn't told her co-workers about her leg, or anything about herself really. She just wanted her old self to disappear...

"A b-break would be n-n-nice..." He stuttered out under his breath, nodding once more and pausing his writing. Looking to her, he realized he mustn't have been loud enough, because Peyton was already walking away from him. Then came the clunk. The young alchemist gave a quick look around the room, trying to find where the sound of metal had come from. Then he realized his assistant had stopped.

"Your leg," He paused, eyes closed. Sometimes his speech problem even got on his nerves, even if he kept from talking at most times. Opening them, he gave a short hum to register the level of his voice in his ears. "Y-Your leg's a prosthetic?" Wynter stood after asking, stretching momentarily before sluggishly walking over to the woman, his slouch bringing them at eye level.

"Do you need to see... to see a..." He closed his eyes once more, grasping for the word he was looking for, but it never came. Instead, he opted for the simpler, "...someone to work on it?"

Looking down at her leg, but quickly back up to her, Wynter backed up a step. It wasn't to do with her at all, he just didn't feel comfortable within reach of others. He hadn't felt comfortable around anyone but his mother since he began therapy for his trauma. Even the doctors he went to see seemed so... threatening. Other humans could hurt him. They could prove disloyal. They could break, yell, curse, and kill. Shaking those thoughts from his head, he gave a small smile.

"I... could pay for them. Th-The repairs I mean."

Peyton tensed up as she heard Wynter acknowledge the fact that her leg had made the sound. She didn't like talking about it. Hopefully he wouldn't interrogate her about it too badly, as many people normally did. Peyton hated when that happened. Because then she'd have to recall it all. All the pain, all the misery. The images of fire, screams, death, and pain would flicker through her head over and over again until eventually she needed to step out of the room to calm herself down.

Instead of hearing that, she watched as Wynter walked over to her slowly and stuttered out a question of whether or not she needed to see a mechanic. Peyton felt bad for the poor man who had to deal with a speech impediment. His was similar to that of her late sister's, so Peyton was able to be patient with him about it easily. She was used to it. She almost wanted to recommend him to a specialist to help him with it, but decided not to for fear of offending him.

And suddenly, a surprise came. A smile crossed his features, which was quite rare really. Peyton never saw him smile. It almost warmed her heart a little when he kindly offered to pay for repairs. But no, she didn't want to be dependent on anyone. She couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't depend on anyone for safety, security, assurance, and love. The last time she did, it ended with heartbreak and her being a single mother. Peyton could do things on her own..."No.. my mechanic is in Rush Valley... s-so I just need a screwdriver really.. something is just loose.. it happens a lot. A-all I need is to just tighten the screw..." she muttered and nervously tugged on the end of the shirt.

"A screwdriver?" Wynter turned from her, fumbling among the stacks of papers on the desk closest to them before finding a small toolbox that had had the misfortune of having papers topple over it. Popping up the metal clasp with a single finger, he shuffled around inside before pulling two out and walking back over. Prodding her hand up slightly with his own, he placed them in her palm and curled her fingers around the tools for her before turning around and slowly walking away.

"I w-wasn't sure w-w-whether you needed a Philips or f-flat bladed..." Reaching under a desk while he spoke, he returned from underneath with a pillow and blanket. "Th-thank you for reminding me... t-t-to sleep I mean." He gave another small smile before crawling back under the desk, draping the blanket over him, and put the pillow behind his head. Reaching up onto the surface, he ripped a sticky note from a stack and placed it at the edge of the desk before curling up and closing his eyes, noiselessly.

"Wake up in four hours."

Peyton looked down at the screwdriver in her hand, then looked at her boss who was now sleeping under his desk. Dear god, sometimes it was surprising that they were the same age. He may be taller, but he certainly acted immature. Sleeping under his desk for crying out loud. Didn't he have the sense to just go home and get a good night's rest??

Peyton shook her head and went over to the door, flipping out the lights on her way out. Four hours time passed. In that time, Peyton had: picked up Anja, made dinner, ate, cleaned, fixed her automail, took a nap, and had driven back to work. Nobody was at work during this hour of the evening except her boss really, so she would just have to wake him up. Peyton planned on staying there with him in case he need anything. She brought Anja with her this time.

She came into the dark room and turned on one set of the lights. Wynter was still fast asleep. She glanced at the clock and sighed. A few more minutes wouldn't hurt him, and Anja needed to be fed anyways. Peyton walked over to one of the chairs and sat down, propping Anja up in her arms all the while. Anja cooed softly as her mother unbuttoned her shirt and began feeding her from her breast. The baby suckled greedily and Peyton just settled into a comfortable position and kept Anja's head and body supported.

The door opening and closing didn't bother the young man in the slightest, neither did the lights coming on. No, his sleep wasn't interrupted until he heard the footsteps approaching. Turning slightly under the desk, he peered down to his wristwatch and smiled. Few more minutes than four hours, but he wasn't one to nitpick about minutes. Not when it came to sleep anyway.

Slowly pulling himself from under the desk, he gave a small cough before standing up and stretching. He stopped mid-stretch, however, as he noticed the baby sucking at Peyton's chest. Stepping back, he mumbled slightly as he backed into the desk and placed a hand behind him, fumbling around for support. Firstly, this wasn't the sort of place he'd want a child. The military was hardening on the mind, on the soul, but that wasn't the main problem. It couldn't have been either way, hardly anyone else would be here at this time.

No, the main problem was that he had another person he could be forced into interaction with. Another face to look at. Adults were easier to deal with as well, most children, even babies, craved attention. He worried at the possibilities of what could happen if he didn't give this one the attention it would most likely want. Would the babe cry? Would it fuss? This couldn't end well, at least Wynter couldn't see it happening. He hadn't even begun to notice anything of the breast hanging out from Peyton's shirt.

"W-Well..." The soldier gave a gulp before picking the book he'd previously been studying from up and pressing it rather close to his face before turning back around. "Wh-Who might th-that be? Your d-daughter?"

Peyton had been gazing down at Anja's sweet little face before hearing fumbling around. She quickly snapped her head up and looked over at the source of the noise. Wynter was up... and her boobs were hanging out. Peyton's face immediately flushed, and she froze. Right there, in front of her. Her boss could clearly see her damn tits hanging OUT OF HER SHIRT. A hand went up and quickly grabbed one edge of her shirt, pulling it over her breast to conceal it once more. She was muttering thousands of apologies under her breath. Anja seemed to find no problem with the situation. She just kept sucking and enjoying her meal.

"A-ah, y-yes t-this is A-anja.." she breathed out, her face still as red as a tomato. "I-I'm so so sorry, I-I just didn't h-have anyone to watch her s-so I had to bring her with me a-and..." Peyton kept on muttering apologies and excuses. She felt so humiliated. Not many knew of her predicament of being a single mother, which often ended up with awkward work situations sometimes. Most of the time she had to break down and explain, which was embarrassing enough in itself.

"H-h-how was your sleep...?" She asked, trying to get rid of the awkwardness and change the subject. Anja had just then decided she was done, so she detached her mouth from the breast and just chilled out in her mother's arms. Peyton fumbled to quickly button up her shirt again before shifting Anja upright and her belly against her mother's chest. Peyton slowly began patting Anja's back and sighed, waiting for the small burp to come out.

Wynter hadn't even taken the time to notice her embarrassment, having already turned away, quickly reading down the page. Heading back over to the desk he'd slept under, he pulled the sticky note from its edge and crumpled it in his hand. Tossing it into the bin, he straightened his arm, pulling a vial from the inner threading of his jacket. Laying it down on the table, he sighed.

"I-I don't mind if you bring her in." He lied, turning back around. Walking back over, he avoided eye contact while picking up a marker. Uncapping it with his teeth, he drew two different transmutation circles onto his hands.

"H-h-how was your sleep...?" She asked as he turned back around. He didn't respond until after recapping the marker and placing it in his pocket.

"It was... okay." Giving another sigh, he walked back over to the table. Picking the vial he'd put down back up, he opened it slowly before spilling its contents onto the table. In seconds an even pile of sand laid before him, and a glint sparkled in his grey eyes. This would be the day his research bore fruit.

First, clapping and placing his left hand on the pile, he slowly lifted it, sparks of alchemical energy pouring outward and around the sand. Once the residue of smoke cleared, a clean-trimmed cube of glass could be seen. A goofy smile spread across his face, but he knew this wouldn't be where this experiment ended. If he was spot on with his studies, the reverse should be possible.

"W-would you like to see...?" Wynter asked, not turning around. "I th-think it will work this time."

Peyton watched her boss silently as he drew circles on his hand and pulled out a small vial full of hand out of his jacket. "T-thanks.." she mumbled in reply to him as he talked while he worked. "I-I appreciate it.. things have been um, t-tough for the past few months now. Her sitter can't always be there.." While Peyton loved quality time with her girl, her sitter's absence was interfering with her work a lot. It might be time to find a new one, for all the trouble the current one had caused her.

She stared down at the sand he had spread on the table. He was going to turn it into glass, no doubt. Peyton didn't feel the need to put Anja somewhere else. Anja was a pleasant and quiet child, and didn't seem to mind alchemy whenever her mother did it at home. Anja would only stare for a moment, and go back to playing. It was a common everyday thing for the child that she'd grown accustomed to. "Ah, yes, I'd love to..." she replied to his offer to watch his alchemy. Her boss worked hard, day and night, just to see things through. She wasn't going to deny him of an audience. Peyton was here to do anything he'd ask, after all. She moved closer to the table and watched, smiling a little as she heard a small burp come from Anja.

The burp gave Wynter a bit of a startle, but he quickly calmed down. Slowing his breathing, he looked over to the two of them, nodded, and clapped. Bringing his right hand down onto the cube, he could only hope it wouldn't backfire like before. The last attempt had left him with splinters of glass inside his palm and a day of having them pulled out by a nurse.

His mouth spread back into the grin from before, however, as the glass began to break down slowly before them. It was working, the cube was becoming sand again! As the process was completed, Wynter jumped slightly, giggling. Running back over to the desk Selina had been sitting at, he pulled the marker back from his pocket, flung the cap off, and wrote "SUCCESS" in huge black letters at the bottom of the top paper on the stack.

"Now we know it... c-can be done." He turned back to her, giving a quick nod. "Th-thank you. Thank you for your h-help."

Peyton's eyes widened a little as she saw the transmutation succesfull reversed, bring the sand back into it's original state. Finally.. all that work had come into fruition. Peyton couldn't help but pull on a smile along with her boss as he wrote "SUCCESS" on the board. "Congratulations, Mr. Geist.." Peyton gave him a small nod. To be funny, she grabbed the infant's hands and made her clap. Anja gave a toothless smile and laughed a little as she clapped. "Haha, yaay Anja~ Mr. Geist did it~" Peyton poked her baby's belly to get a few more laughs.

Peyton was surprised when she heard a word of thanks out of the man. She looked over at him, tilted her head curiously, and smiled softly. "Glad to be of help.. I only wish you the best in the future." Peyton propped Anja into one arm, keeping her supported on her hip, and held out her small hand to shake his hand. "I-I know that you uh, don't exactly like me or want my help... b-but I'm glad you gave me a chance."

Giving a small smile at the antics with the baby, Wynter shook his head and sat down. Rearranging the papers quickly, he patted them down and grabbed for the stapler. Clamping it down on the corner of the pages, requiring a bit of force due to the stack's size, he plopped the papers down. Now they'd just need a stamp of approval, and then... Then he would present all of this to his commanding officers. He was one step closer to receiving the title of State Alchemist.

Wynter looked back to his assistant from his stupor brought on by success and dreams, only to shake his head quickly at her words. Standing back up and shaking her hand, he gave yet another shake of his head. He was surprised to hear such a thing come from her. When had he given her the impression that he disliked her?

"P-Peyton, I... I am n-n-nothing but grateful for your assisss-tance." Taking his hand back, he averted his widened gaze from her again, clearing his throat before continuing. "I d-don't know where you got th-the idea that... that I didn't want your h-help."

Peyton raised an eyebrow for a moment and looked her superior in the eye, something she rarely did with anyone. He had always acted like he only tolerated her, not wanting her assistance at all. Actually, when she was first assigned to this position he seemed to be very against it. Not like he said anything direct, but it seemed like he didn't want her help.

"A-ah.. well then I-I guess it was wrong for me to uuh, misjudge your character then. I apologize..." she almost felt bad now for being so quick to judge her boss, and she knew he was a very sensitive young man. Though, he never showed it. Even so, she'd need to make it up to him somehow. An idea popped into her head. She could make him dinner at her place. She knew he hated public places and just didn't like being around people, so something quiet and simple might be something he'd like.

"S-say uh," Peyton muttered, getting her confidence and courage up to ask. "A-as a celebration of your success, how about I make you dinner at my place." She smiled a little, but could feel a blush creeping onto her face. She wasn't good at inviting people to things, especially not inviting men into her home. Doing this made her realize how truly bad she was at communicating with people. With Marcus it had been easy, and he mostly picked what they would do himself. Now, being the one to have to initiate the invitation to such things, she found it extremely difficult. Oh god, she was going to die single.

"S-so what do you say...?"

"A-ah.. well then I-I guess it was wrong for me to uuh, misjudge your character then. I apologize..."

Sitting back down, he let out a small sigh as he placed his face in his hands. Hopefully those thoughts never arose again. She may have been quick to judge him on such things, but how quiet he usually was probably didn't help. His mother always told him that he needed to learn to be more open with others... Maybe now was the time to try. Maybe.

As if she'd read his mind, his assistant's next question came. She was inviting him over for dinner now? It was a special occasion, but could he? Simply being enlisted as a soldier meant he didn't need to be on hand 24/7, but all he could think of in his mind was all the ways such a scenario could turn out wrong. He knew Peyton had a child, but what of her husband? Was she a single parent, or would there be yet another person for him to interact with? He knew so little about her, which was his fault for the most part.

At first he began to shake his head, but quickly bit his tongue thinking it over momentarily. If he was going to show Peyton that he truly harbored no feelings of hate for her or her position as his aid, this would have to happen. If he said no now, it would only confirm slightly to her that the last words he spoke were lies.

"I... I'd l-love to. I have no p-plans for tonight, so... Yes." Wynter gave another smile, nodding and standing back up. "I sh-should apologize f-for leaving you th-thinking that I d-d-disliked you."

Peyton's face brightened a little when she heard him accept her invitation. How rare. The one that never left the lab and kept to himself was actually accepting an invitation to dinner at her home. It would almost make one guffaw out of surprise and amusement. But Peyton wouldn't. She was just glad he said yes. Guess all that extra food she had made wouldn't go to waste. She just hoped he was really hungry, because there was a lot.

"Um, g-great. Uuh, h-here I'll help you clean up here a-and then we can go. W-want me to drive you there or...?" Peyton honestly didn't know if he drove or walked, so if he drove he might end up just having to follow her on the road by car. With a small, but happy, sigh, Peyton began picking up all the books that were scattered about and sliding them onto their respective shelves. Anja made "oh" and "ah" sounds as she watched and grabbed at her mother's hair.

After cleaning up the mess at hand, and packing everything away, Peyton dug into her pocket for her keys. Feeling the cool metal in her hands as she reached in, she wrapped her fingers around it and pulled them out. Anja whined a little and grabbed at them. Peyton chuckled softly and handed them off to Anja to play with for the moment. "S-shall we go..?"

"Y-yes, I..." He blushed slightly, embarrassed himself now, helping her with the papers. "I d-don't have a v-vehicle, so it w-w-would be appreciated."

Picking up his now complete thesis, he rolled it up and placed it within the pocket of his jacket. Placing a bookmark within one of the books before Peyton could snatch it up, he then made his way around the desk and towards the door. Zipping his jacket up, he looked back slightly before heading on out.

"I'll... m-meet you outside." Heading off, he made his way to the check-in station and punched his time card, also making sure to jot down the four hour break he had taken, noting that it was for sleep as well. He'd been asked several times about the 'insane' amount of times he had down on his card, but after some shaky explanation and a review of the security cameras, everything checked out fine. Wynter considered it strange at first that they would be so reluctant to believe him, but soon after he learned that most of the militants actually went home more than once a week. Maybe, he thought even now, he was the one that was strange.

Very strange.