Blue Monday

Interlude 3 - Most Doorbells Are Quite Friendly, Aren't They?

"Fionna? Are you okay?"

She looked up at her closed bedroom door. "Yeah, I'm...I'm fine."

"I don't think so. Can I come in? You decent?"

"Um, yeah, I'm decent. But please don't...ehh, forget it. Come in, Steve."

Steve Walker came into Fionna's room and closed the door behind him, then turned the light on and sat on the deformed old beanbag in front of her bed. "So, Lee, what's going on?" he asked, adjusting his glasses.

Fionna silently noted Steve's reversion back to his usual last-names-only method of greeting. "Nothing," she said.

"Didn't sound like nothing," Steve said, peering at Fionna with increased concern. "Sounded more like a screaming nightmare."

Fionna sighed, her head dropping into her hands. "Fine. I give up. Alex took me on a flying joyride, and you called my name, then the dream ended. Simple as that."

"You were dreaming about Snow again?"

"Yeah." Fionna paused, then looked up at Steve again. "Funny thing was, though, this time it felt like was his dream."

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, sitting up straighter.

"He was all in control."

Steve stroked his chin. "Huh. How many times have you been seeing Snow in your dreams again?"

Fionna counted on her fingers. "Five in the last month alone."

"Do you think it means anything?"

"Shit, I dunno," Fionna said, pursing her lips. "I mean, best-case scenario, it's just normal for me 'cause I miss him and all. Worst-case scenario, it's some kind of prophecy, and he's gonna get killed soon."

Steve frowned. "Killed by whom, though?"

"I have no idea," Fionna said.

"Hmm," Steve muttered. He fell silent and took off his bike helmet.

"How's the night shift?" Fionna asked, nodding at Steve's helmet.

"Boring as ever," Steve said. "It's so weird. Nobody really knows what we're supposed to be guarding against."

"How can you be sure there's something out there, then?"

Steve crossed the room and gazed out the window. Fionna came up to his side, looking through the glass until she, too, spotted the distant lights of the three-hundred-foot wall that surrounded this pocket of civilization.

"Put it this way," Steve said. "If there were nothing out there, then what the hell would be the point of this big-ass wall in the first place?"

"Does anyone have any idea?"

"The theories go all over the place," Steve said. "Zombie souls, mountain trolls, White Walkers. I shit you not, this one guy who works with me thinks there's robot unicorns trying to bust the wall down every day."

"I'm gonna put my vote down for 'none of the above,'" Fionna laughed. "Whatever it is, it's gotta be a million times worse than robot unicorns."

"Sounds like you're feeling better," Steve said, barely stifling his own chuckles. "Guess that means my work here is done."

Fionna gave an exaggerated yawn. "Good night, Steve. And thanks for checking in on me, even though I didn't really need it."

"You're welcome." Steve hugged Fionna tightly, and even left a kiss on her forehead before he left her room.

Fionna turned the light off and sat on her bed, staring into space and hoping she could get a handle on her feelings soon.

Sure, Steve was a great listener. But he was no Feathers. And in spite of all his gentle advances and subtle hints, Fionna didn't really have the heart to tell him she wasn't interested in him as a boyfriend.

A few minutes later, her alarm went off. Oh yeah, Fionna thought to herself. Time for me to go to work.

She got dressed in less sleepwear-ish clothes, grabbed her keys and her lanyard with her work ID, then headed out the door. Outside the building, it was a chilly early morning, with the moon providing only a small amount of natural light and warmth.

Luckily, Fionna only had to walk two blocks to get to work. She rang the doorbell, hearing the typical pleasant two-tone chime issue from the speakers above the button. Good. That meant she could go on in. She held her ID up to the little camera concealed in the doorbell, which also tripled as a fingerprint scanner. As soon as she was cleared, the door's deadbolt clicked open, allowing her to enter.

As always, Fionna wondered why the employee entrance required such redundant security measures.

Fionna walked on up to her first stop of the day - the returns desk, where the first batch of late-night returns had just been checked in and was now waiting for someone to put them all back. As usual, she wasn't the only one reaching for that particular cart. She grabbed hold of one end, just as the other end was taken by her best work frenemy.

"Not to worry, children," the desk clerk said in his cultured English accent. "I have enough material for both of you to return to their shelves." He gestured to a second cart full of books, then added one more book to it after scanning its barcode.

"Thank you very much, Thompson," Fionna said sweetly, stepping behind his chair and taking the second cart.

The angel boy who had taken the first cart snickered at Fionna as they started heading for the mystery section together. "Are you still trying to flirt with me, honey pie?" he asked.

"Nopes," Fionna said, sliding her cart into one aisle while the boy went into the next. "I've still got a special someone in my heart. And I know you're not interested, so..."

"Yeah," the boy said, peeking around the Richard Castle books he'd just put into place. "Appearances can be deceiving."

"Tell me about it." Fionna turned around to slot in a couple of Dennis Lehanes. "You're one of the most un-gay gay boys I've ever met."

"Hah, never heard that before. No, seriously, I haven't. Probably 'cause I swing both ways."

"It was something my boyfriend said about his brother," Fionna said wistfully. "I bet you'd love him if you ever met him, Kyle."

"Maybe I would." Kyle started brushing his long, bleached-blond hair with his hands, as if imagining such a meeting. "What's his name?"

"Gabe Snow."

Kyle took a pen out of his pocket and wrote the name down on a stray receipt that had been left behind in a copy of The Spellman Files. "Uh-huh. Hey, is it bad of me to hope he dies soon so I can meet him?"

Fionna laughed, then hushed herself before the library police (not that such a thing really existed) could crack down on her ass.

"I'll take that as a yes. Oh, and by the way, I think this might be one for your side of the shelf."

Fionna took the book as Kyle awkwardly slid it over the Rizzoli and Isles hardcovers. "Yeah, you're right," she said, filing the book under "L" for "Lutz." "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Kyle and Fionna then resumed their stacking in silence. In the meantime, she couldn't help but keep on thinking about how familiar he was. Why couldn't her memory stop failing her?

�XѰ"�;