The New Girl

A new face walked in today. It just so happened that Luka and Julianne were over by our station, the four of us were double-checking some facts concerning the longterm effects of buckshot lodged in the heart.

I noticed her first. Small, dark curly hair, glasses, great bone structure. A face that had that wonderful combination of cute and stern. The other three were flipping through folders while I stopped and gazed at her. Really, really cute.

"Peter," Luka's voice cut through my reverie, "Do you have the "Gun's n' Ammo" report on you?"

"Yeah, sorry, I think so," I hastily fumbled around the clutter on my desk. Luka, ever observant, noticed what I had been doing. He tilted his head down, slightly.

"Who is she?" he asked after a pause, clearly as taken as I was, if not more.

"I don't know," I answered slowly, "but there is something familiar about her, I just can't put my finger on it."

Julianne and Jordan were deep in discussion, heads bent together, so Luka and I watched the new girl for a bit, neither of us saying anything.

She was looking around her cubicle, a small furrow between her eyes. Her gaze then traveled along the walls, and up to the ceiling, where she stopped, and a small shudder went through her body. She continued her survey, her eyes passing right over and slightly above us, it seemed that she was not looking at any of the people, she was covering the workspace, inch by inch. She did not look happy at all.

Then it hit me. I grabbed Luka's arm.

"I know who she is, OH MY GOD, oh my god!!!!"