Squeaking an apology, Bellamy swung around on his heel. He looked up, but the woman he’d bumped into was so intently focused on Edie that she didn’t even notice him. Her shimmering bronze wingspan blocked Bellamy from the exit, and she was geared up in armor like she’d just gotten back from an assignment. She had a double-headed axe strapped to her back, the golden edge closest to Bellamy gleaming dangerously.

Bellamy gave her a minute to keep staring at Edie with her big amber eyes before he cleared his throat. “’Scuse me, Vally-Bally.” He heard Franklin make a perturbed noise behind him, and he fought down a mischievous grin.

“Sorry to interrupt, Edie,” chuckled the valkyrie, still ignoring Bellamy. “I thought you were done for the day.”

“Oh, no, you’re good, Vere!” Edie’s voice pitched half an octave higher than normal. “I shouldn’t be long.”

Edie’s unfamiliar valkyrie friend was over six feet tall, so heavily muscled that her breasts were more like pecs, with a prominent Cupid’s bow in her lips and a dusting of freckles on her flushed cheeks. She pushed an errant ginger curl behind her ear and turned her attention promptly to Franklin. “Happy you’ve found your way to Edie, though, she’s the best in the whole depart—” Vere dropped her voice and glanced over her shoulder. “I mean… she’s really good.” She extended a hand to Franklin, which meant that she was basically running Bellamy over.

“Hello!” he finally cried. “I’m here too.” He waved a hand. He was a perfectly reasonable five-foot-six, but admittedly working around the valkyries made him feel like a mouse among giant sycamores.

“Oh!” The valkyrie Edie greeted as Vere finally looked down at him, eyes widening. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see ya there. You’re so wispy. You’re… one of the interns?”

Bellamy frowned. “I’m the only counseling intern,” he said, not keeping the indignation from his tone. It was just like a valkyrie to be unaware of anyone outside their own little clique.

“Captain Guinevere Stromgaard.” The valkyrie flashed him a blinding smile, picked up his hand, and shook it vigorously, tossing Bellamy around like a dog would a chew toy. Bellamy hoped she was purposely ignoring his displeasure, because if she honestly missed it, she was really putting credence to the “bird-brain” insult some folks threw around at the valkyries. Obviously never to their finely-sculpted faces and chiseled muscles. “But call me Vere, please. Or Nev, I don’t know.” She seemed caught up in her rambling, still wrenching Bellamy around. “Just absolutely not my given name, please!”

“Great.” Bellamy yanked himself free of her fake nice grip. “You’re kinda crowding my client, so—”

Edie stepped in with grace, a hand on Bellamy’s arm. She reached for Vere’s large bicep. “Bell, thanks for getting Franklin started here. Vere’s timing is perfect, actually, because she can help me determine Franklin’s risk level and get them set up with the rest of their day.”

Vere bit her lip with a swift nod. “I’d be honored.” She stepped back into the hallway, her wings spreading gloriously as she unbuckled her breastplate and slid it off her shoulders, which Bellamy understood she wasn’t supposed to do until she got to her armory. Something about the maintenance of their formidable stature or other such vanity. “Let me go put my gear away, and I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Bellamy’s expression was flat and sardonic as he turned back to Franklin. But the client’s expression was slack with awe. Bellamy smiled wearily. “First time seeing a real valkyrie?”

“She was huge!” Franklin blurted, their dark-brown cheeks taking on a mahogany hue. “Holy shit, how does she even fit through the doors? The way she shook you around, Mr. Hirsch—” (Bellamy made a sour face). “And her big booming voice—”

Edie gave a good-natured laugh. “It’s funny seeing Vere all in her grown-up glory now. I’ve known her since we were twelve, you know? That’s, like, all I see when I look at her.” She shrugged, smiling, and Bellamy was dying to hear more about this. For as much as Edie was his in-office gossip and his work wife, she hadn’t mentioned Vere. Bellamy wasn’t sure if the secrecy was an oversight, protectiveness, or embarrassment. He was dy-ing. “We’re almost done, but I have some forms for you to sign, okay, Franklin?”

“Yeah, okay,” Franklin gathered their wits by shaking out their scarred hands. They met Bellamy’s turquoise gaze. “Thanks for sticking around, Mr. Hirsch. Your support has really…” They paused, searching for words, pushing back their hoodie from their hair so their short locs bounced free. “I dunno, I didn’t think I could feel this—hopeful.”

Edie beamed over Franklin’s shoulder, blowing Bellamy a little kiss with her heavily ringed fingers.

Bellamy felt like floating as he nodded vigorously, resisting the urge to throw his arms around Franklin. Seeing a client move so dramatically over the course of a few hours was a heady elixir.

He left the Referrals department still grinning as he went to his little office to gather his things. He had been put in what amounted to a supply closet, windowless, with a college-style desk he’d done his best to cozy up with colorful office decor and a pink mouse pad. The perks of being the only counseling intern, apparently.

His supervisor was down in her own office, of course, and he saw her no more than their single hour of supervision necessitated. Well—that was unfair. She had popped her head into his groups once or twice. Threw everything off. Made people feel jumpy about talking, with anyone being able to open the door. He politely asked her to stop doing that without warning him ahead of time, and now he only saw her once a week for supervision.

He’d considered telling his faculty advisor about his conditions, but he knew what he’d hear: “VADR is a valuable sponsor of Thricevale University, I’m sure the accommodations you’ve been given is comparable to our other internship sites”. It was the same spiel he’d been given any other time he’d protested his lack of supervision or clinical support at VADR. He was basically gagged at this point.

Fortunately for VADR, he was a highly competent practitioner, and didn’t need anyone to hold his hand for him to provide good services. Maybe it was the fact of having two mental health practitioners for parents, but Bellamy liked to think he was a quick learner, too.

Bending over his desk chair toward his laptop, Bellamy jotted down some notes in his secure folder so he didn’t forget what to write in his documentation tomorrow. But he got to come in at 10, meaning his night was his own. He shut down the VADR-issued laptop, then whipped out his phone from his desk drawer while pulling his jacket from the hook on the back of his door.

His phone knew his short-hand valkyrie pejorative, that was how often he typed it. That was… embarrassing. If he were less proud, he would process about that in his practicum consultation. How his six months at VADR had essentially ruined his trust in valkyries as public servants. He felt like every valkyrie in this place only served their egos. The rest of them, like himself and Edie, were on their own keeping the place afloat.

His phone started vibrating with the steady insistence of a phone call. He glowered at Edie’s name before he popped in his earbuds, pressed answer, and dropped his phone into his jacket pocket.

“Ugh, what? If you’re calling to make me not mad at you anymore, dream on. I’m on my own now—”

“No!” Edie interrupted his whining rant. “No, well, first of all, you have a billion friends, so I don’t wanna hear it. Secondly, I’ll have my friend keep a look-out for you. You’ll like him.”

“No,” he began emphatically, “no, no, no—” He was walking by Edie’s open door to get outside again, so he loudly called into the Referrals department, “absolutely not, Edie Thorn!”

Edie laughed into the phone. He could hear his voice faintly in his own ear as he hollered, but he hurried on to prevent her from slowing down his departure.

“His name’s Orion. I told him to look out for you.”

“A blind, nonconsensual date, Edie? This is worse than if you just ghosted me,” Bellamy grumbled, whipping his striped scarf around his neck another time as the bitter cold assaulted him. There was a soft, too-pretty snow falling, making the steps down from VADR slick and forcing him to shuffle his nice loafers to avoid wiping out. It was probably time to suck it up and start wearing his boots on his commute.

“Maybe, unless you two hit it off,” sang Edie before she hung up.