The flickering light of the lamps in Ford's study cast long, restless shadows across the room as he paced back and forth, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. His thoughts were a tangled web of curiosity and concern, and at the center of it was the young scientist sitting before him, Bea.
Bea, with her doe eyes that gleamed like embers behind the rim of her glasses, sat patiently on a wooden stool, her fingers tracing the edges of her notes absentmindedly.
She was waiting for Ford to break the silence.
The ticking of an old clock filled the room like a heartbeat, steady and relentless, as Ford finally came to a halt in front of her, his eyes narrowing slightly.
— You answered them, — he pointed out the obvious, slowly. Letting those words form like steam around the room, landing in her ears for her to understand what she'd done. His voice barely above a whisper, laden with suspicion. — Those equations... they weren't just theoretical anomalies or child's play. They were... well, they were a puzzle meant for me. And only me. —
Bea blinked, clearly confused by the weight of his words.
— The math seemed straightforward. Admittedly complex, but certainly not beyond my capacity. You said it yourself; my cognitive abilities exceed most. — she said, recalling the previous words that happened before he let her in to his lab, in the cabin.
— Most, yes — Ford agreed, his voice was laced with a mixture of admiration and unease. — But this... this was different, Miss Beatrice. These equations— he paused, rifling through a pile of papers before retrieving the familiar sheet, now creased from his constant handling, were designed to be indecipherable. Except by someone who had spent decades in the realms of astro-dimensional research. And yet, you solved them with ease. Why? —
Her response was immediate, a flicker of amusement crossing her lips.
—Why? Because it's just numbers and logic. I've always had a knack for unraveling patterns. — She crossed her arms, her posture casual, unaware of the intensity of Ford's stare. Bea's aura was always so nonchalant, so easy to read she couldn't care or at least she didn't want to understand why he was making a lot of deal out of it since her knowledge made her blind by ego.
Ford's frown deepened.
— But these numbers; these specific equations are tied to a far more dangerous kind of logic. The kind that doesn't just map out the stars but could unlock them. Tear through the fabric of space and time itself. —
Bea raised an eyebrow.
— With all due respect, that sounds a bit exaggerated. Equations don't have the power to do that. People, maybe, but not math. —
— You solved them — he repeated, his voice now strained, as if by repeating the fact, it would unlock a new understanding. — Miss Beatrice, this is no small feat. I spent years trying to crack just the first part of this. I had... help. — His words faltered as the name 'Bill' hovered on the edge of his mind, though he chose not to speak it aloud.
Her fingers, now resting on the desk beside her, tapped thoughtfully against the wood. She shifted in her seat, her curiosity piqued, but she remained calm, as though the gravity of what Ford was saying hadn't yet settled into her.
— I didn't mean to alarm you — she replied normally, her voice almost comforting in its measured tone. — I've always been... well, smart, to put it bluntly. You've seen my work, my research, your research. I don't know why this seems so surprising. —
YOU ARE READING
Bad Dilemma - Stanford Pines
Fanfiction- do you have any idea of what you've done, Beatrice? - Ford asked as he looked at the notebook, astonished. - umh... stole your heart? - She answered with a shy smile as he blushed immensely by her words. Was she wrong, though?
