well, you gotta start somewhere

Valentine Brody - Val to you - had been born at just past six in the morning and had been getting up early ever since. This served him well in high school, when he had to catch an early bus, and in college, when he was on the swim team and would train before class. And it served him well now, making it possible for him to get up at what his roommate thought was a ridiculous hour, and either go to the Y to swim or go to work early.

Val worked because he had to. He sometimes went in early to get things done and earn some subtle brownie points. And he swam because it was the best form of meditation he'd ever tried.

(He'd studied comparative religion in college and had gotten interested in Buddhism. He'd be the first to tell you he wasn't a very good Buddhist, but he'd also be the first to tell you that he wanted to be better.)

Monday mornings, because they were Mondays, he got up at 5:30, had half a bagel with peanutbutter, and went to the Y. He swam for half an hour - freestyle, butterfly, breaststroke, backstroke, freestyle - took a shower, put on a suit and tie and his one nice pair of shoes, pulled his hair back, and went to Caswell Velez Malcolm and Simonson, the law firm where he worked as a law clerk.

Val had been aiming for law school since he was a junior in high school, but he was taking some time between that and college to get some experience and pay down at least some of his school loans. (And, almost as an afterthought, to make sure it was what he really wanted to do.) He'd started at the law firm as an admin, stuck it out for almost a year, and managed to move into a clerkship, which was more where he wanted to be. Now he was doing a lot of research and occasionally running errands for the lawyers, and if he didn't love his job, well, the pay was good and he was getting experience and it was what he wanted to do, wasn't it? And he was raised to work hard and to put in the hours to get where he needed to be.

This Monday was no different from any other Monday, except maybe for the fact that he was the only person in the Y pool. A good swim, a quick shower, the other half of his bagel on the way to work, a hello to Maggie, the receptionist, a pile of stuff on his desk leftover from last week, some email he could ignore.

And Aidan McInerney, one of the legal secretaries, who was probably Val's best friend at work and (not coincidentally) the coworker on whom he had the biggest crush.

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(it's not even long enough to bother cutting *sigh*)

(no subject)

Caswell Velez Malcolm and Simonson took up a couple of floors in a highrise downtown. In the atrium of the lobby of the building was a small cafe that served coffee and pastry and bagels in the morning, and coffee and pastry and sandwiches in the afternoon. There was also, inexplicably, a flower shop and a tailor. Past the atrium was the security desk and the banks of elevators, and every morning Val would get a coffee from the cafe and wave hello to the security guys on his way to the elevator. He knew he'd had a late day if the morning security guys had been replaced by the evening security guys by the time he went home.

( Monday mornings, the elevators were always full of grumpy, tired people in suits )

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total words: 1245