The pile of broken down boxes outside of the office was slowly growing. The walls of the office were lined with bookcases loaded with large, boring-looking books. The woman unpacking them didn't look like she belonged to the books. She was wearing worn jeans and a dark tank-top. There was a black leather jacket hanging on the back of the office chair. The nameplate on the door read:
"I'll confess," comes the headmistress' voice from the hallway, "I'd laid even odds on whether you'd move in first, or seek out the local motorcycle club."
"I suppose the Dengie One-Hundred are a bit tame, though."
"My bike's still held up with the damn customs people. I have to go back to London to put the fear of God into them again once I get my paperwork together," she said, turning. "The moment the word 'lawyer' escaped my lips, they got stubborn." She dropped the book in her hand on the desk and moved to shake Sam's hand.
"If worse comes to absolute worse, I'll buy another one while I work things out. It won't be the same as my baby, but it beats driving a car." She moved back and fished through a briefcase, pulling out a folder and offered it to Sam. "Here you go, documentation of my acceptance by the Law Society as a solicitor advocate. I love their terms. They make it sound so dignified."
"I'm so looking forward to that," she said with a laugh. "I swear, it doesn't matter which side of the ocean you're on, as refined and sophisticated as they try to make it, the legal process has more in common with a good bar fight than most lawyers want to admit."
"Settling in is going okay. Anything I need to be aware of that's about to blow up on us? I got access to some of the ongoing files, but a plane wasn't a really good place to do an in-depth review of them."
"Likely the most odd legal situation would have to be Mister Stanton, who is currently beset by a records-eating nanovirus, and as a result has had to be classified by the patent office instead."
"And if you don't even blink at that, I'll know your tenure at X-Corporation was eventful."
"We've just got the grand prize of these sorts of things, being as we regularly take in stateless individuals, sentient darkforce liquids, and emergent AI."
"I have some experience dealing with stateless individuals. And I once sat on the same side of the table as Jennifer Walters, so I think I've got the stones to handle the rest. The defendants in that particular case settled so fast, we almost didn't have time to draw up the initial complaint paperwork." She gave a toothy grin.
"Of course. Even I didn't argue with her. I feel sorry for the drunk idiot who slapped her butt. He wasn't conscious for the rest of the fight." She made a face at the rest of the boxes, "So can a newly arrived Yank treat the headmistress to a round at the pub?"