First Delivery
There probably wasn't anyone in Sydney who looked as dumb as Vic Clarke.
She was standing in the lobby of one of the city's premier office buildings, wearing a fluorescent blue jacket and a helmet with a plastic fin on the top. She had been boiling on the ride over, but in the middle of the air-conditioned lobby, she was ice cold and awfully exposed. She could feel sweat freezing on her bare legs.
A man walked by in a suit that would have cost her three months' rent and smirked. She couldn't blame him. Her uniform jacket was garishly bright, neon blue all over except for the silver letters spelling out CASSOCARRY EXPRESS DELIVERY on the back. The helmet was just as bad. The fin looked a little bit like a cassowary's horn, and a big bit fucking stupid.
Also, Vic was wearing women's clothes, despite the fact that she still looked like a man.
She adjusted a bra strap and pulled her jacket tighter around herself. Alright, not exactly like a man. Most men didn't have tits. But still, enough like a man that she had given up hope of ever being gendered correctly, except out of pity.
A lot more people had been pitying her recently. It was starting to piss her off.
"Hey! Cassocarry!"
Vic turned. One of the office workers was approaching her, smiling broadly. He was Asian, and looked to be about her age, wearing a black tie and a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had a very lean physique, and his clothes showed it off, clinging tightly to his body in a way that only a good tailor could achieve. He had sharp cheekbones, almost model-worthy, and eyes that were piercing, dark and mischievous. He was a little shorter than Vic. Most guys were.
He held out his hand. Vic took a step back, reaching for her messenger bag.
"That's me," she said, "Delivery for Payne, Worthington & Cameron."
"Hell yeah," said the guy, "Andrew Cheng. Senior associate."
Vic relaxed and opened her bag. She passed Andrew a manilla folder, "Senior associate and you came down here yourself?"
Andrew shrugged, "I needed a break. Spreadsheets, man. So many spreadsheets."
Vic nodded, "Right, yeah. My job's pretty simple."
"Cool job, though," said Andrew.
"Yeah," said Vic. For a second neither of them said anything, and Vic became painfully aware again of just how dirty and sweaty and out of place she was, so she added, "Pays better too."
Andrew blinked, "For real? How much do you make each delivery?"
Vic shrugged, "Oh, you know. Ten billion dollars."
Andrew laughed, "Nice."
"Thanks," Vic scratched her neck. She was eager to leave, but it was still steaming hot outside, and her water bottle had run out, "Is there a water cooler down here?"
"Water cooler..." Andrew looked over his shoulder, then turned and craned his neck to see over Vic's head. He stopped suddenly, "I don't know why I'm looking. It broke last week."
"Shit," said Vic, "Okay. I'll find a bubbler."
Andrew looked back at Vic and smiled. This close up, Vic noticed that his smile wasn't totally even. One of his canines was much larger than the other, so it almost looked like he had a single fang implanted into the right side of the mouth. It made him look a little rakish, but also a little goofy, like a werewolf that had stopped transforming at 1%.
"Hey," he said, "What's your name again?"
Vic shrugged uneasily, "Vic."
"Vic," Andrew nodded, "Short for anything?"
"Just Vic."
"Vic," Andrew tucked the folder under his arm and reached out. Vic wiped her palm against her bike shorts, which probably just made it sweatier, and shook his hand. His grip was surprisingly strong for such a slender guy. Strong and warm. Vic felt flushed again, despite the coolness of the lobby.
"I'll see you around," said Andrew.
—
"Vic!"
Vic jumped. She had been lost in thought, looking at her vague reflection in the polished tiles of the lobby floor. Andrew Cheng was standing by her side. wearing another tight tailored shirt and his lopsided smile.
"Ten billion wasn't enough?" he grinned
"Gambled it all away," said Vic.
Andrew laughed, "Nice. Are you our official courier now?"
Vic shrugged and handed him the sealed envelope she had been given, "The job just goes to whoever's closest."
"I'm glad you were closest, then," said Andrew.
Vic looked away. Andrew noticed.
"Water cooler's still broken," he offered, "We have one in our office, but we can't really bring people up. Client confidentiality and stuff."
"Sure," said Vic. She rubbed her shoulder. Andrew hadn't looked away from her this whole conversation, and she was starting to wish she had worn better clothes than her cheap tank top and shorts. Or that she had a better body to put clothes on.
"I like your hat," said Andrew.
She looked at him sharply, "What?"
"it's like a shark fin or something," he said.
"It's a helmet," said Vic, "With a cassowary horn."
"Oh," Andrew smiled that crooked smile again, "I like your horn."
"I'm gonna go," said Vic.
—
"Oh my god," Vic groaned, "I had my helmet on the whole time."
Andrew laughed, "Yeah. That's why everyone was staring at you."
Vic thunked her head against the mirrored wall of the elevator. She had just assumed people were staring at her for the normal reason. Man in woman's clothing.
"Thanks for bringing me up," she muttered.
"It's cool," Andrew said, "Just needed to get a visitor pass. It wasn't a problem. And I got to show you our water cooler."
"Yeah. Very fancy," Vic sighed, "At least they know I'm not a corporate spy. Hard to be sneaky when you've got a fucking neon blue fin sticking up over the cubicles."
Andrew laughed, "I told you! It's like a shark fin."
Vic chuckled bitterly and straightened up. Her reflection looked haggard. The eyeliner which she stubbornly applied before each shift was smudged around her eyes. She pressed her water bottle against her forehead to cool herself down. Behind her, Andrew was looking at her strangely.
She turned, "What?"
"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" asked Andrew.
Vic blinked. She could see Andrew, with his cheekbones and his fancy clothes, and she could see her reflection behind him, with her fucked proportions and stupid outfit. Something wasn't adding up.
"What?" she said.
Andrew shrugged, "No pressure. Just figured I'd ask. I think you're cool."
"You know I'm trans, right?" said Vic.
Andrew frowned, "Huh?"
"Transgender," said Vic, "You know what that is?"
"No, yeah," said Andrew. He looked uncomfortable, "I know what that is."
"Alright," Vic crossed her arms, "Yeah. Well. It's something you should know, if we're getting coffee."
She leaned back against the side of the lift, fully expecting Andrew to turn away, or start bagging her out for tricking him. Instead, his mouth widened into that crooked smile. Vic realised what she had just said and blushed.
"So that's a yes?" said Andrew.
—
"Go Vicky!" said Elizabeth, "He just asked you out right there?"
"It's coffee," said Vic, "It's not a date."
"Sounds like a fucken date to me," Elizabeth smirked and took another swig from her beer, "You met three times and he's already asking you out. Absolute maneater."
Vic glared, "It's not a date, Lizzy."
Elizabeth nodded patronisingly, "Sure, Vicky. We'll see."
"Seriously," said Vic, "The odds that he's even bi..."
Elizabeth sighed. For a while, the two of them just sat and looked out over the balcony. Most of the view was blocked by other apartment buildings, but Vic could just make out the towers of the Sydney CBD in the distance, grey and murky along the horizon.
"Mum's been trying to call you," said Elizabeth.
"I know," said Vic. She cracked another beer and took a sip.
Elizabeth shrugged.
"I still think it's a date," she said.