Cinder takes a long, slow sip of her water, the triangular paper cup seeming uncomfortably phallic, somehow, in her elegant grip. I'm sure she's doing her best to seem pensive and mysterious, but the effect is rather spoiled by just her eyes and the tips of her ears visible over the burbling blue canister of the water cooler.

I stare right back, brown eyes on blue.

"You know what they say about humans, right? Like what they say about us?"

Her voice manages to carry a current of adorableness with it, despite the tone that I'm fairly certain was intended to be silky and smooth.

Nodding, I take a sip from my own cup, checking my watch. Already four. Not bad.

"They say we're for lewd. That the moment we're off the clock, we're just lusting to get our mouths down over the nearest cock, or have our faces squished by some delicious, tasty lass having a sit."

Making a mental note to have a talk with HR about our appropriate-workplace-conduct training, I nod unfazed, taking another sip before crushing the cup in my hand.

Cinder gulps.

"And after that, they say," she nods, head poking out from around the water cooler to peer up at me, "we're just all about getting done over with some strong, human tongue till we can't walk, or bouncing our bums down on one of your- your..."

Taking a deep breath, she straightens her tie, and I check my sleeves, rolling the left one up a little more.

"Anyway."

With a huff, Cinder crosses her arms, glaring up at me. The effect is pretty cute, I'm susceptible enough to admit, although I have to remind myself not to get on her bad side when audit season comes around again.

"You know what they say about humans, too," she half-growls. "That the lot of you just like doing elves. That you want nothing more than to pick us up and take us home and -"

Raising a finger, I clear my throat, fixing Cinder's gaze with my own.

"Completely accurate."

Cinder continues unabated. "They say all humans want is to grab us with their big, strong hands and- er."

She's pink, now, and I nod, completely deadpan.

"Yup. I mean, I can't speak for everyone else; I'd hate to perpetuate harmful stereotypes. But yes, I can speak for myself, and I can definitely say that there are elves that I want to wrap up in my arms, and strip all the work-clothes off, and then give a good, solid back massage before tasting, teasing, and stuffing until they can't think of anything, much less workplace stress that causes them to act out in an attempt to find a socially-acceptable way to get someone to listen. Possibly someone they like, but don't want to seem too outre in saying so. Possibly an elf from Accounting, who seems to always be here when I amble over to stay hydrated, and whose presence in my mind is a decent split between marveling at how well she can move numbers around, and imagining what she'd look like pinned under me in my bed or hers, then wearing one of my stupid Pusheen shirts while we make breakfast together. And if I were really trying to perpetuate stereotypes, I'd comment that there'd probably be a decent representation of a part of me up inside her bum, or her thighs around my head, and maybe a kiss when it's done and an invitation to dinner, if she stops by my desk at the end of a particular workday."

I cough.

"Yeah. Humans are for lewding. At least me, potentially. With some elves. One."

Checking my watch again, I toss Cinder a friendly little salute, returning to my desk as she wobbles in place.

"See you round, Cin."