For the hundredth time, Ivan tugged at the collar of the dress uniform, wishing desperately for his Ranger fatigues: well-worn and used. The Ranger had only been a part of the force for a few years, but already the uniform felt like his second skin, and going into the office of Head Ranger Anderson without it just felt....wrong somehow. Forcing himself to relax, Ivan slowly lowered his muscled frame into one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs that so often decorated the waiting rooms of those with power. 

A few feet away, a secretary watched with amusement as Ivan repeated the same actions over and over. A deep inhalation was followed by the soft shuffling of papers as Ivan flipped through his transfer papers to ensure that none of the carefully signed papers had somehow teleported away in the few seconds since he had last checked them. A glance at a watch, and then his right hand returned to drumming on Gawain's pokeball until the cycle repeated itself. Ivan had just reached the watch part of the cycle when the secretary cleared her throat.

"He's ready for you."

With a grunt of acknowledgment, Ivan stood, making his way towards the (in his opinion) looming doorway. He coughed once.

"Ivan Matiche, here about the transfer sir."

---

WC: 214