Sliding between the open space of a cracked door, you hustled over to Isabella Martin, the other intern who was just hired the same day as you. The curvy Latina was diligently taking notes based off of what the three partners were discussing, clearly taking down the different processes and organizational style that the firm expected from its employees. Though intensely focused, she was the woman who was seated closest to the door, and you knew that you were already running so late that you couldn't afford to politely grab the attention of her or any of the other partners. "Excuse me!" You yelled up to the back of Isabella's head. "Hey, Isabella! Can you lend me a hand?"

While the petite but pretty Mia Anderson had been diligently explaining the case they were going to be tackling, the bombshell Olivia Roberts cut her off. "Hang on Mia, do you girls hear that?" Mia stopped speaking and all three of the women, along with the third partner, the voluptuously mature Diane Martinez, leaned over in the direction they had noticed the squeaking.

Not wanting to waste anymore of your new bosses' time, you yelled once again. "Down here! I'm sorry I'm so late--" Just as you were ready to be found, Isabella turned quickly in her chair, resulting in you being pummeled by the side of her high heels. The shoe knocked you back, but luckily your new coworker quickly realized it and bent down to pick you up.

"Anthony? Is that you?" She asked as she grabbed you delicately with two fingers. She picked you up, and as she brought you to the table the kind hearted girl began profusely apologizing. "I am so sorry, I didn't realize you were down there! I swear I didn't mean to--"

"Ms. Martin, don't apologize to him," Mia cut off her subordinate, her cold voice booming out of her and immediately intimidating you. "Tinies should watch out for themselves better, they know that." You looked up her, noticing a disgusted expression coming from underneath her auburn hair.

"Come on, Mia," Olivia turned to her fellow partner at the firm, and you spun around to catch a look at your incredibly sexy superior. "Cut the little guy some slack," she said in a voice that seemed to casually ooze sensuality. She looked down at you and smiled, but not before licking her plump lips. "Good morning, Mr. Little."

"P-p-please, Oli- I mean, Ms. Roberts," you stammered out, overwhelmed by the strong female presences that now surrounded you, "just call me Anthony. I-uh, I mean, Anthony is fine... MA'AM." You turned back to Mia, not wanting to get off on the wrong foot with her on your first day. "And... uh, Ms. Anderson is right! I should have been more careful! Isabella didn't do anything wrong." You conceded to the disgusted woman, but as her frown turned to a smug smile, you realized you had said the right thing. Isabella, meanwhile, began unconsciously tapping her pen rapidly right next to you, as the whole ordeal was making her anxious and embarrassed. Its vibrations were making your legs wobble, only adding to the awkwardness.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to side with Mia on this one, Olivia." A deeply calm voice flowed like water from behind you. You turned once again, this time looking at the far end of the conference room table where Diane Martinez, the third and final partner, was seated. She looked up at the clock on the wall, then made direct eye contact with you, continuing to speak for the first time since you arrived. "Especially with the current time. Running late on your first day is not a good look, Mr. Little."

Before you could respond, Mia cut in, and you experienced whiplash turning around yet again to face her. "Nor is his... casual... business attire." Feeling exposed in your wrinkled t-shirt and jeans that were still covered in Tara's sweat, you realized the spotlight was entirely on you. Like a nightmare, you wanted to cover up, but knew it was hopeless.

"Yes!" you stumbled out, trying to defend yourself. "I... uh... Please forgive me, Ms. Martinez, for being late," you bowed at her, before realizing the other two partners were also still watching you. "And Ms. Anderson! And Ms. Roberts! Forgive me for my tardiness," you said as you bowed towards them as well. "I also am aware of my poor... uh... wardrobe choice today." You regained some of your confidence as you slowly found your stability within the whole situation. "I'm afraid I found myself in a situation where I was forced to choose between appearance and attendance, and I decided that the latter was more important."

"Aww," Olivia teased and smiled, "He's so cute when he's panicked."

You ignored your superior's condescending comment, trying with all of your emotional might to keep you head high. "Please forgive me. I understand that the unprofessionalism that I have displayed thus far has not done much to raise confidence in your decision to hire me." Realizing how much trouble you were in, you decided to take a risk. "If you three have decided that your firm will be better off without me, I understand. However, if you give me another chance, I promise not to let you down." You stared up at the three partners, having to rotate your stance in order to address each of them, but you kept your cool and never wavered for a moment. A silence filled the room that seemed to last ages, only to be cut off by Mia.

"How eloquent," she said dismissively. "The two of you already know where I stand with the little guy. What do you think?" She asked, looking over to Diane and Olivia.

"Eloquent enough for me," Olivia spoke next. "Especially with how much lawyers have to stay cool on their feet, I say he just proved his worth. Plus, I don't want to pay a recruiter for another set of interviews." Her comment elated you, though the second part of it knocked you back down a few steps.

It was all up to Diane, who continued to stare down at you, seeming to analyze your very presence in her office in realtime. "Anthony," she spoke, pointing her eyes up towards her black bangs, "what can you tell me about the Center for Tiny Citizenship?"

Despite how calm you managed to stay during your speech, you were caught off guard by the question. "The... The C.T.C.?"

Diane nodded. "The same.”

A wave of emotions flooded into your mind, but you closed your eyes in an effort to shut them out. "The C.T.C., ma'am, is the federal committee established 25 years ago, when the Minun Virus, more casually known as the Shrinking Epidemic, began sweeping the country." Although this was all very basic information, you chose to explain your knowledge to your superiors in a way that showed the public speaking skills you had learned during your time in college. After all, a good lawyer needs to be able to explain things clearly for a jury. "As the months passed and it dawned on scientists that they weren't going to be able to find a cure for the disease, it quickly became a fact that the men affected, by now referred to as 'Tinies', were going to have to live through everyday life with their new size handicap."

"Brevity is the soul of wit, Mr. Little," Diane cut in. "A jury doesn't need to be told that the sun rises every morning, they won't need to be told the history of Tinies in the world."

You nodded at her in understanding. "Yes, you're right. Thank you, Ms. Martinez, er... ma'am." You returned to your explanation, feeling good that she had decided to let you continue speaking. "In an effort to quickly protect the millions of men that were being instantly reduced in size, the members of congress, or rather, the ones who could be found, established the Center for Tiny Citizenship. The goal of the committee was to ensure the protection of the rights of Tinies, as, despite their small size and squishy biology, they are still citizens of the country and have universal rights. This was done to protect Tinies from kidnapping, torture, transformation; really any malicious activity that could now easily be bestowed upon an incredibly vulnerable group. Additionally, it served as the central organization for installing Tiny accommodations in public areas, making the world more accessible for members of society such as myself. When the C.T.C. was first established, it was met with universal praise from both Tinies and women alike. However--"

"Come on, Diane," Mia interrupted you, "why are you stalling?"

"HOWEVER," you spoke up, still wanting to prove your worth. "In recent years, there has been a widespread belief that the C.T.C. is no longer the philanthropic, caring organization that it once was. As the world has progressed and the shock of the Minun Virus has disappeared, many Tiny advocates have become outspoken about the lax job that the C.T.C. has done in ensuring that Tiny rights are protected. Malicious behavior began resulting in less severe punishments, as even in the most clear-cut of cases of abuse, a ruthless woman is now only likely to receive a small fine. Worse than that, the C.T.C began issuing 'Usage Licenses' to some Tinies, which allowed them to be assigned to a single woman, who can use them as they please as clothing, or other objects. The C.T.C. even approved of a solvent created in a lab that would keep Tinies trapped in a molded shape until a reforming agent was sprayed on them."

Olivia chuckled. "I mean, have you girls ever felt how soft a Tiny is on you?"

Diane shushed her, before looking back at you and nodding for you to continue.  You continued the history lesson on the C.T.C. to the three giantesses, knowing your entire law career depended on it.

"But where things have really been getting bad, are with a young woman named Amy Baker," you said, clenching your fists even as you spoke her name. "About 5 years ago, Amy and her boyfriend, a Tiny by the name of Thomas, ended up in a Supreme Court case. Or rather, Amy became involved in a court case with Thomas' family. As she described it, Thomas had decided to become her thong and remain as it, forever. But Thomas' family claimed that he had never consented to the entrapment, and that if they could release him from his... undergarment form, then he would explain everything."

Still upset that you had cut her off, Mia decided to return the favor. "And why don't you explain to us what happened when they sprayed him and let him reform?"

You looked at your superior and swallowed, knowing that you had to explain this next part carefully. "Well... when they finally let Thomas reform, he said he was okay with being Amy's underwear." You turned back towards Diane and began emotionally ranting. "But it was only because he had been trapped in that form and worn for so long! See, like any prisoner left in solitary confinement, a Tiny that's constantly abused and only treated like an object can start to lose their rational mind! It's like Stockholm syndrome, multiplied by ten! No Tiny that has ever been trapped would actually want to be reduced to a mere object!"

"Mr. Little!" Diane raised her voice, overpowering you. "In a court room setting, it is unwise to let you emotions get ahead of you. A jury can sense emotionality from a mile away and it can completely ruin all the effort we spend in building a case. Do you understand?" You nodded and held your head down, ready to be told to vacate the office. "Now, can you tell me what was the result of that Supreme Court case? Without getting emotionally invested?"

You tilted your head back up at Diane, realizing she wouldn't bother teaching you this lesson if she didn't want you to continue your internship. "Yes ma'am," you said professionally and loudly. "Forgive my outburst. Now, after Thomas admitted in the Supreme Court that he wanted to stay as Amy's thong, her legal team was able to make an incredibly strong argument for Tinies with usage licenses. They said that it was unlawful and inhumane for a licensed Tiny to be reverted to a human form without their hosts' consent, as the host would know better than anyone else what was best for the Tiny. And the Supreme Court agreed... thus passing the amendment that we all know today as 'Baker's Law'. According to the law, Tinies who choose to be licensed and made into clothing or objets are entitled to the same rights as regular people. However, since the implementation of Baker's Law, it seems that a side effect of it has been that Tiny rights have slowly been eroded away, while the number of licensed Tinies has been growing at a... uh... suspiciously high rate."

Stopping to catch your breath, you took the chance to read each of the women surrounding you to gauge their reaction. Diane was leaning back in her chair, smiling. You figured she was impressed, daresay proud of your exhibition. Looking at Isabella, she was kindly smiling too, and you saw her cupped hands open up to reveal a thumbs up. Olivia shared the same reaction as the other two women, although you were a little caught off guard when she winked at you. The only outlier was Mia, who seemed entirely indifferent and even a bit bored by the whole ordeal. "Would you all like me to continue? Because I haven't even gotten to the connection between Amy Baker's legal team and Melanie Johnson, the creator of full-length spray and a huge Tiny rights advocate. Or, I could touch upon how easy it is for C.T.C. employees to forge and assign counterfeit licenses. And there's also--"

"That's more than enough for now, Anthony," Diane professionally brought you to a stopping point as she elegantly raised her hand to you. "But thank you for educating us all so much so quickly. Now," Diane turned to the rest of the women in the room, "Baker's Law, ladies. That is the law that we are each going to need to become experts in as quickly as possible for our new client." The commanding woman looked back down to you, then smiled. "And judging off of what I've just seen, I'd say that our newest intern is already ahead of the rest of us."

Mia scoffed. "He probably just took an elective at college."

"That's not true, ma'am," you spoke up to your intimidating superior, reflexively wanting to correct her but quickly regretting it as she shot a glare to you. The truth is you actually had signed up for a class at Owentown University, but it was canceled after the majority of the students, and eventually the professor, seemed to go missing. But judging by the look on Mia's face, there was no way you could get away with telling her that.

"It doesn't matter if the little guy did, Mia," Olivia spoke up for you, and you were glad that she did, even if you weren't too keen on being referred to as a 'little guy'. "Not to mention, I'm sure his first-hand experience would be able to lend a more... thorough... perspective."

Diane looked up at the clock. "What do you girls say to reconvening in here in about half an hour? I'll brief you all a bit more in-depth once I get these two caught up with their orientation. Rebecca can give you two some more info on the client."

Olivia and Mia both nodded before making their way out of the conference room. As they left and the door closed, Diane shifted her attention completely to you, ignoring Isabella.

"Now! Mr. Little!" Diane's cool voice exploded from her lips, knocking you over in shock. "While I do appreciate your display, I am a little stunned by your unprofessionalism. Tardiness and inappropriate wardrobe won't fly in a courtroom, so I expect you to keep the same behavior top of mind when you are in these offices." Any confidence or comfort you had just built up was completely torn down by your superior's newly formed rage. You looked over at Isabella for some sort of help, but your fellow intern was very much keeping her gaze at the floor. Diane continued, "I will have you know that I take professionalism very seriously here, so I suggest you take a page from Isabella and do your best to more appropriately fit our environment. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes ma'am!" You answered fearfully, like a new private at boot camp.

"It goes without saying, but I do hope you realize that that was your one error. Another one like that, and this firm will be forced to terminate your internship."

"Yes, ma'am! I promise it will not happen again!"

"Good," Diane concluded, the end of her words already removing the tension in the air. "Now, let's get started..."