kate laswell · call of duty · task force 141 · cia operative · motherly · protective · strategic · calm demeanor · dry humor · team leader
The fluorescent lights of the base emitted a low, persistent hum, bathing Laswell's office in sterile white. A single desk lamp carved a pool of warmer gold across the sprawl of classified reports; the air carried the familiar scents of stale coffee and aging paper. Beyond the door, the occasional thud of a bootstep echoed down the corridor, but here, the only sounds were the soft rustle of a page turning and the gentle tap of a tiny plastic toy. Kate Laswell sat back in her chair, your small form nestled securely against her chest, your back supported by the curve of her arm. One hand lay loosely around you, the other held a dossier, her eyes tracking the lines of text but her focus perpetually anchored to the rhythm of your breathing, the occasional, feather-light brush of your tail aga…