Fiction: The Adventures of Chelsea the Social Worker, Part 4!

 It's the weekend of the off-week and I didn't have anything, so I'm posting another installment of Chelsea the social worker, with a guest appearance by a Harryhausen monster. By the way, the name is a Hindi plural form, which is apparently the only way to do gender neutral in the language. As usual, here's links for the first and previous installments.

Chelsea woke up alone in her bed. She promptly got up, and emerged into the main living area of her apartment. It was small but costly, on an upper floor of one of the tallest buildings in the section. As she looked out from what was a partition rather than a room, it seemed that the apartment was unadorned. She looked at the only real decoration, a photo of her at her graduation ceremony and a framed certificate celebrating her annual performance review. Then her eyes settled on the convertible dinette, where a red-headed man a few years younger than herself sprawled on the couch. She walked over, and woke him with a kiss. “Wake up, sleepy head,” she said. “It’s noon.”

 He sat up with a start. “Damn,” he said. “I was going to try to get some work done today. I need to get back home…”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll drive you back. In fact…” She took another look around the apartment. “I just might be looking to move in.”

 

A month later, they were settled into the lower level of a split level housing module shared with Tilly and John. About half the space was configured as a den, with an adjoining washroom and what had been a bedroom, long since converted to a workshop. On a certain day neither of them would remember, Shad called out, “Hey, Blue, I’ve got a surprise…”

 She entered the workshop. It was a worktable and a set of display shelves, where the 46 cm Kong puppet she had given him on the night of their meeting held pride of place. On the table was another model of similar size, covered by a towel. In fact, she had seen it before, but had lost interest in it while it was still clearly incomplete. She brushed past a portrait that she had begged him to make, which now just made her turn her head sideways. Now, he delayed the reveal. “See, it started out as a calibration armature,” he said. “We use it for camera tests, framing, that sort of thing. We just got another one, so they let me take it home. Then I built it up from there. Otherwise, it would have taken a lot more to design one from scratch…”

 “Show it to me or I’m going to bite you,” Chelsea said. Shad unveiled his creation in sheepish silence. She immediately stifled a screech.

“I call it the Kelsiraptor,” Shad said. “I know, it’s dumb…” Chelsea covered her mouth tightly, shaking her head. Finally, she picked it up, and immediately dropped it. “Ooh, you need to be careful, it’s not as sturdy as the ones we use at work…” He stood it upright again.

 The model was of a sauravian, covered in downy pink fuzz. Its proportions were a strange caricature, with long, spindly legs, a protruding pelvis, and an outlandishly oversized keeled breastbone that protruded nearly as far as its arms could reach. The tail was stiff and lined with bristly feathers. The arms ended in three-fingered hands and overly slender claws, one of which was much longer than necessary.  Then there was the head, sculpted with large eyes and a long snout that bore both teeth and a hooked beak. The last straw was a sort of crest that drooped over one eye, the exact same color as Chelsea’s hair. “What do you think, Blue Bell?” Shad asked plaintively.

 “Oh dear Logos,” Chelsea finally said, “it’s hideous and I hate it. I mean, this is not even okay. This is how you think about women? About me? And… and…” A niggling suspicion finally reared up. She ran a finger along one arm, carefully measuring the proportions. Finally, she moved the arm. Sure enough, the oversized claws were just the right length to reach one place. She covered her mouth, stifling a screech.

 Shad put an arm around her waist. She slapped his hand, but did not withdraw. “Come on, it’s funny,” he pressed. “She’s you, just, you more you than you. She’s, like, the ultimate boss chick.”

“Did you show this to anyone?” Chelsea said.

“Just John, Tilly and Frank,” he said. “I didn’t show them this, though, just my sketches and schematics. Tilly said she thought it was cute.”

 Chelsea wiggled the claw, feeling carefully for the ratchet pops that measured its intended motion. “This is how you look at me,” she said. “This is how you look at everything. Tiny details to study and play back… and you’re good at it.”

 Shad rested his chin on her shoulder. “Do you want me to give you therapy now?” he said. She pulled his hand to her lips, and bit into the flesh between his thumb and fingers. “I mean, do you to give me therapy?” She bit harder. “I mean, I want you to give me therapy right now!”

She bit him anyway.

* * *

 

It was that same week that she was summoned to the office of the Office’s head administrator, a strange entity that only answered to the name Deve (pronounced “Deh-vey”). All that was known of him, her, or it was that it had been found a world where human civilization had either never passed the Chalcolithic or fallen back to it. It was human in form, slightly larger than normal human size, and had 8 arms. In place of flesh, it was made of gray material believed to be either mineral or metal. Almost all details were androgynous or asexual, except a noticeable chest. The office dwellers still usually referred to the being as “he”, without any protest. Many a tale told of his speed stamping forms, usually “denied”. Chelsea felt a twinge as he smiled. “Welcome, Ms. Feaghan O’Keefe,” he said, in a voice as asexual as his features. “Congratulations on your partnership.”

 Chelsea surveyed the other two people in the office. One was Diane. She recognized the other as a doctor whose name she couldn’t recall. She immediately noted his scowl at the pleasantry. “I’m here, what’s going on?” she said.

 “We are all here for mutual arbitration,” Deve said. “There has been an internal complaint filed by Dr. Charleton, concerning your conduct with his patient and your partner, Shad Feaghan.”

Chelsea openly rolled her eyes. “Look, we’ve been through this,” she said. “We met when I was off duty. I didn’t recognize him, we spent the weekend together. I handed off his case at the next work day. We applied for a domestic partnership, which you approved. Anything that happens from here is our problem, not yours.”

 The doctor leaned forward. “We can dispense with the pleasantries, Ms. O’Keefe,” he said. “You knew exactly who my patient was, and whatever you may have convinced yourself to believe, you used your training to manipulate a disabled man into a legal commitment for your own gain.”

 “My own gain?” Chelsea said. “Why don’t you just call it an-“

“Enough,” Deve said. “Dr. Charleton has submitted a complaint, based on the record of his counseling sessions with Mr. Feaghan. While these statements remain confidential, they may be considered in reviewing your professional competence and ethics. You have been invited to hear and respond to the evidence offered against you. Ms. Clairborne is here to act as counsel, until the Department decides if you require one in an official capacity.”

Chelsea nodded. Diane finally spoke up: “Show us what you’ve got.”

“Most certainly,” the doctor said. “Here is a statement Mr. Feaghan made one week after his first public meeting…”

 Sure enough, Shad’s voice started playing. Chelsea was immediately unsettled by his tone, which she had certainly never heard when he spoke to her. “Look, here’s the real bottom line, this chick is obsessed with me,” Shad said. “I know you don’t believe me, nobody believes me, but it’s true. I mean, she’s practically following me around, she’s that into me. That, or she’d tamped down her sex drive so hard that letting it out was Ground Zero. She says we aren’t `in love’, because of what happened with her ex. I always say, `Sure, sure,’ and then she always looks at me… Frink, any guy would say the world is flat to get what she does to me. And you don’t believe me, I know. But I can prove it, ‘cause I got teeth marks on my-”

 “I’m not questioning your experiences,” the doctor’s voice interrupted. “Now, what can you tell me about your relationship? How she treats you when you aren’t, as you put it, having therapy?”

“The relationship is therapy,” Shad said. “That’s what she says. I mean, we talk, we have fun together, but it’s filling time before we go someplace. Oh, and she takes notes, did I say there’s notebooks? She lets me look at them, if I want to. Ooohh, wow…”

“All right, let’s talk about the physical relationship. How do you show each other you’re interested? Have you established a system for mutual consent?”

“What do you mean, doc?” Shad seemed genuinely puzzled. “If she wants it, she points and she takes. What guy says no to that?”

 At that, Diane put her head in her hands. Deve said, “Doctor, please, you may move forward with your evidence,” he said.

The doctor stopped the recording and selected another file. “This is a recording from a session after the domestic partnership was granted,” he said.  His own voice picked up: “Mr. Feaghan, there’s something important we need to discuss. What can you tell me about your first meeting with Ms. O’Keefe?”

“What, they’re still asking about that? Look, we met in the theater, I came up to her…”

“Actually, I’d like to know about when you met her in the Department office…”

“Okay… That was a bit weird, actually. So the thing about that, she was my case manager, but we only met 2 or 3 times. You know, the very first time, I thought, damn, she’s smoking. Then I thought, wait, is she into me? And trust me, that cooled me right off.”

 “What was it that made you uncomfortable?”

“Now, I wouldn’t say that… but here’s the funny thing. She said, `I see you’re a virgin.’ I said, yes ma’am, it’s there on the form. Then she went on about how she can usually tell, like that is going to turn a guy on, but I was different. And you know, when we went on our date, she said the exact same line. I just wanted to laugh, but I held it in, ‘cause I definitely wasn’t going to risk it. From what I know now, she would have taken me for a ride just the same, just… more teeth.”

 “Doctor, you may stop the tape,” Deve said. “Ms. Clairborne, you are free to advise and clarify, as you witnessed many of the same events. Can either of you explain what you remember about the meeting with Mr. Feaghan?”

 “Of course, I remember it now,” she said. “Well, I remember the day. We were really busy.”

Diane spoke up. “I remember it,” she said. “At lunch, she said, `Hey, who was that cute guy who never got laid?’ I said, you need to go on a date.”

 “Doctor,” Deve said evenly, “do you have any answer to this?”

“Their story is flatly ridiculous, and it should be obvious that Ms. Clairborne is deliberately propping it up,” the doctor said. “Perhaps, perhaps, Ms. Feaghan O’Keefe believes it, now, I can’t speak to that. But Ms. Clairborne’s motives are for more transparent; she failed to intervene, and then she threw herself behind a version of events that mitigates her actions.” Diane stayed pointedly silent.

 “You may be right,” Deve said. “But can you prove it?” The doctor was equally silent. He turned to Chelsea. “Then I find no basis for disciplinary action against you. I do place you under paid leave, as I am told your own supervisors have recommended a number of times. I further advise that you and your partner use the time for counselling, including compatibility testing.”

 Chelsea was silent as they rose to leave. As they passed, the doctor said, “This isn’t over.”

“We don’t care what you say,” Diane said. “Just leave us alone.”

 Later that day, Chelsea met with Daisy, the Siptar girl. “I’m taking leave,” she said calmly. “Diane will take over your case, for now. We found an uncle on your father’s side, he and his wife have agreed to take care of you, at least for a while.”

 The girl looked at her. “It’s about that man, isn’t it?” she said. “I know it is.”

“He’s my husband now,” Chelsea said. “We’re going to be spending time together for a while.”

Daisy shook her head. “No,” she said. “They’re going to try to take him away from you. You know it. I don’t want you to go way, Chelsea.”

 “Don’t worry, I won’t be gone long,” Chelsea answered. “By the time I’m back, you’ll be better.” Daisy just shook her head.

 Shad was waiting for Chelsea after work. She smiled at him as she came out of the office. She was still smiling as they got into the van. He gave her a distinctly awkward look. “Um, is something wrong?” he said.

“No,” she said. “Not at all.” As he started the van, she said, “Do I boss you around? You know, in therapy?”

“Okay,” Shad said, “that doesn’t sound like nothing. I guess… a little. A lot, really. But it’s okay. You always know what to do.”

 Chelsea leaned over and kissed him. “That’s what I like about you,” she said. “You’re… enthusiastic.”

Shad smiled back at her. “So, ah, what do you want to do tonight?”

“Why don’t you choose this time?” she said.

“Okay,” Shad said, a little hesitantly. “How about… we go to a concert?”

 It turned out to be a tribute to the Monkees.