She took a sip of coffee, staring at the beige cinder-block walls, as clinical in their appearance as her reputation among her small circle of peers. Not that there weren’t plenty of bigger fish in the sea, but they tended to view people with her specialties as untouchables covered in the filth of the disgusting unnatural grime of the paranormal.

Not that they didn’t dump there work on her. “No sir,” she spoke into the phone. A landline of course. It shouldn’t need to be said, for this kind of work. Those little devices are convenient, but were full of vulnerabilities. Yes, they do make secure ones, but why risk it? Commercial personal phones naturally are a big no-no. Complete untrustworthy wiretaps people willingly carry on them at all times, then act surprised when their computer tries to sell them a doodad they mentioned in casual conversation with their friends.

She continued. “I just don’t have the budget and staffing to help you with that. May I remind you that we’re an archive,not the Farm. I’m sure even you have more people qualified for this job, Mrs. Secretary. I’ve got one new field agent recently and you don’t even know half the struggles I had to go through to finagle that through. Only reason I could even get away with that is because my organization is so unconventional. And that one is a load of trouble in her own way.” And she had been. The “procurement order” her new agent had written had gotten to one of her peers, causing all manner of ridicule and a few jokes about time machines and Stargates in the basement.

It wasn’t as if those were unheard of. There have been several documented cases of time slips, people ending up in times and places they had no business being in. It’s one of those things that sounds like a conspiracy theory but really seems quite obvious when you work in this business. Not that it wasn't arguably conspiracy theory fodder, as if any effort was put in place to hide it. It’s caused all sorts of confusion among archaeologists, who find modern technology at digs but usually dismiss it as sight contamination despite the objects being as old as the other objects found. “Dimensional portals” are another issue, but one the Secretary of the Interior she was talking with now was all too aware of.

She paused, listening to the “wak wak” of a mindless half-wit bureaucrat bitching at her from a cushy office in D.C. The noise reminded the head of the Secret Archives of watching those Charlie Brown cartoons when she was little, and the noise the adults made. Just mindless noise lacking any substance.

She put up with it a bit longer, before rudely interrupting. Being rude to members of the Cabinet is normally not advisable for career growth, but she had no chances of promotion anyways. She and her skills were too useful where she currently was at. “Look, I’m already tracking the incident you mentioned. Hell, it didn’t even happen in your jurisdiction! If anyone has jurisdiction on that it’d be the ATF, and DOJ already burned up enough favors getting me to lend the one free agent I currently have on their bullshit extremist militia OP that they’ve already over-saturated with people. Which, I might add, actually is something you should be paying attention too, since it’s in a National Forest.”

She took a deep breath, exhaling. It’d been a while since she snapped like that, but there was good reason to. A surprise issue had occurred, right as she had already tasked Amy with dealing with it. She always got people dumping the odd jobs on her. Higher-ups, the political ones who didn’t actually understand this field, just assumed “secret archives” and assumed it was some high-speed operation. Even when made familiar with the day to day grind of what was glorified librarian work, they still had images of Indiana Jones, retrieving arcane texts and artifacts. Yes that was part of their mission, albeit one that was perpetually underfunded. No, they weren’t some specialized supernatural response force. Her latest agent didn’t even have any official training outside of military experience. Most PMCs even had higher standards of training. Most now are incredibly picky.

“As you can see, I’m rather lacking in staff,” she continued. “Maybe if you you could help convince some people to authorize me a bit more leeway with my budget, I might be able to squeak out a bit of free time to help you with your issues with dimensional instability on the eastern seaboard. If I’m not mistaken I’m already helping you out just by sending my agent out to the forest near there. She should clean up that thing that’d been going after Forest Service workers. Another favor on top of that is worth at least the budget to increase my staffing a bit more. Even a part-timer would be enough.”

The “wak wak wak” of Madame Secretary continued. It was all so tiresome. But this was something that needed to happen. She knew it did, surer than she knew the woman on the other end of the phone was waffling about “procedures” and “good of the country” when at the end of the day all she was concerned about was her stock portfolio. They’re all the same. Disgusting creatures whose souls are stained blacker than her own. Finally, after minutes of doublespeak and not so veiled bitching, she agreed. She’ll doubtlessly try to wiggle out of it of course, but there are measures to prevent that.

“Thank you for doing business.” She politely answered. “Now, lets see...” her mind began to wander. Not the inward sort you’d expect from a kid daydreaming in school, but an outward searching wandering. As if her mind was roaming about, over mountains and rivers, under tunnels and caves, even peering beyond, into realms hidden from normal mundane view. It was a skill she had possessed since birth, but forged into an eminently useful tool for her current work.

“The one wanted by your compatriots at the DoJ is long gone and I doubt she’ll interact with here ever again. You can mark her as probably deceased,” She lied. It wasn’t her problem anyways and was still pissed at being given more work. Who knows, she might be right. The spooks really fucked up letting that one slip through their fingers, but maybe their concerns about mental instability were right. But a bit of craziness in this area is to be expected. “The later incident is related, but not likely to spiral out of control,” She lied again. “Just a bit of divination making things get wibbly-wobbly, then return back to normal.”

More squawking emanated from the receiver. She was visibly annoyed, but none of that could be heard in her voice. “Madame Secretary, you’re really blowing this out of proportion. Besides, don’t you have bigger issues on the west coast? I don’t think...” a red light appeared on her phone, caller ID showing another big name. Saved by the bell. Normally she’d do everything she could to avoid dealing with big, stuck-up names, but any port in a storm, as they say. “I have DNI calling. I’m sure you don’t want to get in the way of National Security issues just because things are getting a little weird on the east coast.” A platitude, things are always weird on the east coast. “The issue will be dealt with, and don’t forget, I need that extra funding. My agent sent to your forest doesn’t even have any weapons issued yet, you can’t expect me to help without the bare minimum of resources.” More wak wak noises. “Yup, talk to you later.” She hung up, then picked up the next call.

“Hello Ma’am?” She asked the slightly different voice? She sighed, as the voice droned on. Being called at this time of night by the Director of National Intelligence meant this was SUPER IMPORTANT in all capitals, but she was a busy woman in her own right and at this point felt separate from the normal hierarchy. She listened, ignoring the headache from the combined stimuli of politician and white noise machine placed outside her office door, to discourage eavesdropping. The headache grew even worse when it was made clear that yes, this actually was Super Important. Glancing at her empty coffee cup, she reached for a bottle of brandy, adding a decent dose before topping off the rest with coffee.

“What’s the time frame?” She asked. More information flowed through the speaker. They must have used their own “special” resources on this one. It was already an unusual case. And, technically, this one actually did fall under her jurisdiction, so she couldn’t easily wiggle out of it.

“At least we have a bit of a time buffer. I’ll need time to prepare things on my end. And I’ll need some stuff from you too.” She paused. “I’m gonna need some clearances fast-tracked first. I’ll have to fax you the details at a later date, since there’s still a bit of recruiting going on at my end. And funding. I really need more of that. And I guess an addendum on that pardon I was asking you to push for a while back. It might be better not to publicize that if you do manage to get it signed. You can probably guess why. Well, email me the details on this later. It’s not going to happen overnight, and it’s already been a long night….Mhm. Bye.” She hung up, drank down half of her mug like it were filled with water, and turned away from her desk.

“Phenex, Viné, Ose, Appear to me!” she declaimed. Then, directed under her desk,“Cathy, don’t listen.” There was a breeze, and three beings appeared.

The first was in the form of a bird, a long, elegant tale, and a shimmer about it as if it were about to burst into flames at any moment. The beautiful voice of a child singing could be heard as it appeared. The second appeared as a girl with horns, about high school age and wearing a uniform. A smug smile played across her face. The third was a leopard. Just a leopard.

“Phenex, don’t play that shit with me.” She said, as the bird continued to sing. “Shut up and turn human before I wring your neck and fry you.”The bird stopped, and in a flurry of feather and flames turned into an elegant young man. “Viné, why are you looking like that?”

“I thought it’d be funny.” The demoness replied. She sighed. She didn’t like having to outsource work, but manpower issues really are hell.

“And Ose, I know you can speak like that but it’s annoying. Turn human.” And in an instant, the leopard was replaced by a man.

“I have some work for all of you. First of all, Viné. You’re helping me with recruiting duty again.”

“Recruiting? You know, back in the old days clergy would summon me to find people they wanted to burn. Now you’re giving them jobs?”

“Don’t be stupid. If we burned everyone who dabbled in witchcraft I’d have to throw myself on the pyre first. Remember, don’t make contact, just keep an eye on them and report back to me. It’s something I should be able to handle on my own, but they went and started messing around with summoning which kind of threw off my recruitment timeline.”

“As you command, mistress.” The girl curtsied, then disappeared.

“Now Phenex, look over this,” she said, handing him a print out. He read it, before handing it back to her, causing her to sniff in annoyance.

“I’ve summoned you enough that you should know what to do afterwards” she admonished, snapping her fingers while speaking. The printout went up in flames. It was really all overly dramatic. She had safes for document storage, a whole facility for document storage, and a burn-bag under her desk. But it’s better to look commanding when dealing with underlings. “So now you know the target. Watch their movements, and alert me if anything more dangerous than usual occurs.”

“As you wish, mistress.” Phenex bowed, and disappeared.”

“What would you have me do, mistress?” the remaining man inquired with a grin. He already had an inkling.

“Go easy on this one.” She said. “We still ostensibly need her to do her job, but she’s such a pain! Madam Secretary my ass, she shouldn’t be trusted as an administrative assistant in a convenience store, much less political power.” She thought for a moment. “Cockroaches. Make her see cockroaches out of the corner of her eyes, but when she looks they’re gone. That kind of madness is the most fun to watch. I guess I’ll need to watch CSPAN now to enjoy the show.”

“As you wish, mistress.” the man bowed, and disappeared.

She sighed, plopping down at her desk in exhaustion. “Cathy, not to impose...” Out from under her desk, a cat appeared. A white Persian cat, with blue eyes, who jumped into her lap, and curled up, watching the door. The woman sat there, contentedly petting the cat. “You know how much I love petting you, and how pretty your fur is, but I probably look like a Bond villain right now...”