Probation Officer #175: The Samoan Minister 12

“Well, those are the rules. I don’t even think the rules are wrong, but I’m not going to argue it with you. Because Sa’afia. And because if I became your lover they’d fire me.  Look, Ana, I’m going way over the line even by having this conversation. I could damn near get fired just  for saying ‘pretty little ass.’ But I want to be honest with you.” 

“About my arse?”

The TARDIS of asses: Bigger conceptually than on the outside

The TARDIS of asses: Bigger conceptually than on the outside

“I think we need to get your arse out of this conversation. Deal?”

“Oh, sir.” I didn’t know she could be arch. “Well, it’ll free up a lot of room.”

I looked at her, frowning in disbelief. Then I laughed, explosively, and kept on laughing. Ana joined in. It wasn’t that funny, but we didn’t stop. We made people look.

Eventually, she said, “Did I get you?”

“Yeah, I wasn’t ready for that. That was good. Um, Ana.”


“Well, I can feel more for you than just that you’re a client. I care about you. But I’ve still got limits, Ana.”

She nodded. “All right. But I can’t help how I feel.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been where you are. I know it hurts.” She squeezed the hand I’d given her, and then grabbed my forearms, leaning forward. I was glad the table was between us. 

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