Through a Glass Darkly

Chapter Two

Bilba sat curled in an uncomfortable plastic chair in the corner of the common room, arm draped across a knee as her eyes scanned the file in her hand. A large stack of nearly identical folders, along with two smaller piles, sat on the table in front of her, all stuffed to the brim with paperwork.

Beyond that, the room opened into a wide airy space, lined with windows to allow in natural light. Tables and chairs were scattered throughout, many occupied with other patients reading, doing puzzles or quietly talking. Orderlies and staff moved about them, sometimes stopping to talk to a patient or escort them to and from the room. A few of them looked her way, but none attempted to approach. Dr. Chambers had made it clear she was to be left alone.

She returned her gaze to the chart she'd been reading, but had barely managed to read the same line four more times when someone slid into a chair across from her. Irritated, she looked up, prepared to send the clear, and concise, message that whoever was bothering her was deeply unwanted.

It was Blondie, and the sight of him caused her brain to short circuit.

He'd taken her advice. He was clean shaven, hair neat and trimmed, and wore a freshly laundered t-shirt along with the requisite sweats and slippers. On anyone else, they looked non-descript but, on him, they became a fashion statement.

"So, Celeste," he started. "I wanted –"

He trailed off as she raised her fingers and pressed them together along with a sharp, "shush! Masterpieces don't talk, they exist to be admired."

The corner of his lip twitched, and he shook his head in exasperation. Then he folded his hands in front of him and proceeded to stare at her, in silence.

This time, it was Bilba fighting back a smile, even as she bemoaned the discovery that he had a sense of humor. She didn't want him to have a sense of humor. It was bad enough that he was unfairly attractive.

"I changed my mind," she stated flatly. "Don't shower. You're distracting."

He raised an eyebrow. "And you're so busy in here you can't afford to be distracted?"

"Exactly." He reached for one of the folders, only to pause as she slapped a hand onto them. "Anyone ever teach you that nosiness is a vice?"

He didn't pull his hand back. "Anyone ever teach you that sharing is a virtue?"

Confident, and very self-assured. If asked, Bilba would have insisted she didn't have a so-called perfect man in mind, or list of traits she considered desirable in a partner. She had no time for such things. Now she was quickly realizing that not only did she apparently have a list, but Blondie was rapidly checking every box.

"What are you doing?" he asked, nodding at the graveyard of dead trees.

"Reading," Bilba said dryly. "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Not at present," he said easily as if she'd just asked him about the weather. "What are you reading?"

Bilba sighed. She knew she should get rid of him. Insult him until he left, or give him the silent treatment, or just threaten to track down his car once she got out and set it on fire. Instead, against her better judgement, intelligence, and all sane reason, she found herself shutting the folder she was reading and offering it to him.

She wasn't sure who was more surprised by her actions, her or him.

Granted, she was really bored. She'd always been more of a "shoot the thing in the face until it stops trying to kill you," and less of a "risk death by a thousand paper cuts doing research" type of person.