"This is ridiculous." Is the huff you get out of Caitlyn as your hands dust over her Enforcer uniform, smoothing out wrinkles and tugging hems. Here she is, trying to bathe in the glow and glory of her newfound position and you're over here fussing over her like a mother would her child on the first day of school.

"I do not need to be pampered and fussed over, I am a fully capable adult, and I can fix my own ruffle, thank you very mu— what are you doing with my hat?" A frown, moreso a pout (much to her resignition), etches itself onto her lips as you pluck her hat off her head, dusting it off and picking some lint from its rim.

So much for glow and glory, huh?

She isn't nervous for her first day on duty, per say. Apprehensive, maybe. Bear in mind though, she isn't in this uniform because her parents paid for the badge on her belt. Money can't buy marksmanship.

"This is ridiculous," She sniffs again, glowering at you from under the rim of her Enforcers hat as you fix her bag over her shoulder and hand her her shiny rifle.

A badge of the law on her hip and she's letting her girlfriend scoot her out the door with a packed lunch. What has she come to?