Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

52. Communication Breakdown, Part One

Julia

I jostled my computer's mouse, awakening it- and let out a groan when I read the time. Two whole hours I'd spent sitting in this chair of mine, and in all that time I'd had only one full session. Not surprising, of course, most of the students tended to either wait until late in the afternoon before their family, their feelings, or their future got the better of them and they needed someone to hear them out- and after all, this was the last day of the semester; most of Princeton's promising youth had already flown the coop and headed home for the holidays.

Still, right that moment there were a million other places I would rather be- and a million other things I would have preferred to do. And in spite of how precariously the lives of Danny and myself now hung in the balance, I pictured myself in these situations with only one man alongside me- a man who this time tomorrow would yet again be a mere shadow from my past.

"Some break the rules, and live to count the cost," I sang under my breath, the Howard Jones from this morning still gently lilting about in my head. "The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost/ And you want her, and she wants you-"

"Special delivery for Ms. Samuels," the receptionist's cheerful voice shattered my reverie. I looked up to see her in the doorway holding a large vase of roses.

My eyes widened. "Oh, wow, where'd that come from?"

"FTD, I think," she said with a shrug.

I fought back a sigh of annoyance. Big help, as usual. All the same, I managed a grateful smile as I rose and took the flowers from her with an obligatory "Thank you so much, Brenda!"

When she was gone, I set the vase on the corner of my desk. There were twenty-four in all- a dozen black, a dozen white, and painstakingly arranged with no two roses of the same color nestled side by side, reminiscent of a chessboard. An odd combination for a bouquet, let alone a bouquet of roses. I looked them over quizzically, wondering at the intent. Not for long, though; the brief note attached cleared things right up:

To the bravest, sweetest woman in the world:
Congratulations! You survived the week!
Love, Stuart

P.S. Please call me when you get these.

I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, for now I knew that Stuart still had absolutely no idea about last night. How long this would be the case, I did not know- but for the moment, his ignorance was my bliss.

Turning away from the "finish line" flowers, I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone, doing my best not to so much as let my hand graze against the paperback still hidden inside- a book I had every intention of returning to Stuart as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

Three rings later, Stuart's voice crackled through. "There you are, Jules," he said.

"Hi!" I chirped through another forced smile. "I got the roses, they're beautiful."

"Oh, good, I was starting to worry they'd made a mistake, sent them to the wrong place or something," he chuckled.

"Nope, they're here. Thank you so much." I fiddled with a loose-hanging black petal, accidentally knocking it onto the desk. Without thinking I actually mouthed an apology to the injured rose.

"My pleasure." He cleared his throat. "Here, I was thinking. Once we've shipped him back later this evening, we should make a night of it, you and I."

"Sure," I nodded. "Oh- wait, I've got to take Danny up to New York for his rehearsal."

"Even better. There's a top-notch French restaurant in Manhattan that some friends of mine were raving about recently, I can meet you there!"