“I low-key want to thrift it this year.” Mira sighed, closing her laptop and sliding it into her bag. She spun around in her office chair to face Albert, who was standing beside her desk with his cart of cleaning supplies.

“Yeah?” Albert asked, folding up a rag while he spoke. “I mean, fair enough. Everything’s so expensive around the holidays.”

“Right?” Mira remarked, standing up and leaning on the front desk with an annoyed look. “I swear, I could waste an entire paycheck on gifts for just the other receptionists!”

“Yeah, I bet.” Albert nodded sympathetically. “I’m lucky on that front, I’m the only janitor that works night shifts year-round, so I basically don’t have many coworkers to worry about.”

“But Albert, you’ve got me!” Mira shoved Albert lightly as she packed up her pencils and notebooks. She paused to think for a moment before continuing. “I’m sure the boss would let you in on the actual secret Santa thing, if you asked. Unless you’re too busy talking to the mops!”

“Oh, come off it.” Albert rolled his eyes. “The boss kind of scares me, if I’m being honest. It’s not like he really cares about the cleaning staff, anyway. Best not to push it, if you ask me.”

Albert wasn’t lying when he said that the boss made him uneasy. He was an imposing figure who practically radiated authority, and Albert was happy to say that his only real conversation with the man was during his interview. Even then, the few glimpses he’d caught of him staring pointedly at his employees were enough to keep him in line.

“Sounds an awful lot like something someone who likes speaking to mops would say,” Mira looked up at Albert with a false frown before a smile broke across her face. “But you better get me something, at least. I’d like to feel appreciated for all of my hard work!”

“Your ‘hard work’ is taking so long to close up that our shifts overlap, Mira,” Albert chuckled, detaching a large broom from his cart. “But yeah, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well, maybe I just like a bit of conversation!” Mira scoffed. She pulled her bag over her shoulder and stepped out from behind her desk.

“So…” Albert raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to tell me who you got?”

“Secret. Santa.” Mira narrowed her eyes and put on a serious voice, though she cast a more than obvious glance at a desk on the far side of the room covered in folders and old coffee mugs. “It’s in the name, Albert.”

“Hah!” Albert laughed, bringing a hand up to his mouth as Mira made shushing noises. “Oh, good luck with that, he seems like a nightmare to shop for!”

“Like you would know anything, Mr. I’m-So-Sad-When-I-Get-The-Whole-Institute-To-Myself!” Mira poked Albert in the chest accusingly. She looked over at the mess of a workspace with a sigh and crossed her arms. “I’ll figure something out… He’s got to have some hobbies besides caffeine, right?”

Albert eyed the desk with a skeptical look. He was practically paid to clean up after its owner, Julian, who had the annoying habit of being entirely unhelpful with anything aside from spreadsheets. He was a nice guy, sure, but too wrapped up in his work. Albert had decided to finally go and talk to him about it if the ant problem ever returned.

“You could just get him another mug, if you’re out of ideas.” Albert suggested lightly. Mira shook her head gently.

“No, no… that’s what he always gets!” Mira spoke with a new air of determination, gesturing to the pile of ceramics already on the desk. “Besides, using a cheap answer goes against the Christmas spirit and all that. It’s got to be personal! Meaningful!”

“Alright, it’s your funeral.” Albert shrugged.

“And I trust you to deliver my eulogy, as my most trusted associate!” Mira nodded matter of factly, then looked at Albert expectantly.

“Sure…” Albert grabbed a bottle of cleaning spray and held it up like a microphone, fixing his posture and putting on a proper accent. “We are gathered here today to honor the life of one Mira Stevenson, a receptionist of the most average quality. She died doing what she loved; overthinking pointless corporate team-building exercises enacted for the sole purpose of making the nine to five a bit more palatable. Instead of flowers, please consider sending cash to Albert Webb, her most trusted associate. May she rest in paperwork.”

“God, you’re impossible!” Mira tried her best to look upset through her laughter, and Albert grinned until she composed herself. There was an awkward silence as the pair looked at each other, and Mira averted her eyes, looking out towards the front entrance. “I should get going though… don’t want to keep you from your actual job, you know.”

“Of course,” Albert nodded briefly, stepping away from her desk and pulling his cart aside. “You have a good night, Mira, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Yeah, you too!” Mira said brightly, walking towards the door. She paused as she reached for the handle and turned back to wave at Albert. He lifted his mop up in acknowledgement and smiled as she disappeared off into the chilly evening.

Mira was pretty good company, all things considered, and Albert appreciated their brief conversations before he actually started his shift. As much as he joked about it, being completely alone in an enormous building staffed by the city’s strangest academics and messiest receptionist was rather disconcerting. It felt like a place where someone shouldn’t be by themselves, like the hallways were threatening to swallow him and trap him in an endless maze of polished tile and paperwork. Albert always pushed his unease aside, overall it was an alright job. Decent pay, good benefits, all the standard stuff. The hours might have been rough, but Albert had always been a bit of a night owl anyway.

So Albert took out his phone, hit play on his music, and started his familiar task of sweeping the floors. All in all, it was a peaceful way to spend his nights, as long as he ignored the occasional scraping sounds coming from the offices upstairs. The area was strictly off-limits to the staff who didn’t work there, and he wasn’t keen on finding out why.