vellichor short

We Really "Hit" It Off

The bells over the bookstore door jingled cheerfully. She could spend hours here in this dimly lit rabbit-hole. Book after book she piled up in her arms until the twenty or so books she carried almost completely obscured her vision. Oof! And then-

"Oh my god. Are you ok?"

She opened her eyes, groaning. Someone was standing over her. A hand. She groaned again and managed to take the outstretched hand. She blinked hard and her eyes focused. Dark hair, carefully gelled into place, untucked dress shirt and an incredibly loose tie rested around his neck. She finally looked into his eyes. Soft, dark brown. Weary, like he had seen things most men hadn't.

"I'm so sorry, I was walking around the corner and I didn't check to see if someone else was coming and I'm really sorry-" he stammered out.

"No I'm sorry," she said, laughing slightly. "I couldn't see over my stack of books. I should use the cart more often." she mumbled to herself.

His hand was warm on hers. Oh shit. His hand. She was still holding his hand. She forced herself to let go and ignored how cold it was with the absence of his hand. Oh the symbolism. She knelt to pick up the now scattered books.

"Do you... do you work here?" he asked, dropping to his knees to help.

"Yeah, Billie." she said, stopping momentarily to point to her name tag.

He smiled slightly and stuck out his hand for the second time. "Aaron."

She took his hand, and smiled brightly. As they returned to piling up the books on the floor, she picked up one she didn't recognize as her own. "Yours?" she asked curiously.

He took it from her. "Yeah, it's about... profiling? Like solving a case by analyzing an unsub's... I mean a criminal's psychological and behavioral traits to figure out who they are, what they'll do next, etc. Basically how to catch them." he said, finally meeting her eyes.

"Michael Pasadena, right? That book is fascinating! The part where he talks about blood spatter staining on linoleum? The man is a genius!"

He smiled excitedly. "Absolutely. He is without a doubt one of the best profilers to work for the FBI."

"I always wanted to work for the FBI. The cool badge and helping people when they need it the most." she said returning her attention to the spilled books.

"So what happened?" he asked, gathering books into neat piles of five.

She looked up at him for a second, trying to gauge if he was being serious. He didn't look like the kind of guy to make fun of someone's sob story. And she'd had a tough day. She decided to be honest. "My family... it's a bit of a long story. They didn't want me around that kind of gore and guts I guess. But it was my dream job, so after college, I rebelled. Moved away, started working here."

He looked at her for a long moment. "You aren't close with your family?"

It was her turn to avoid his eyes. "It's not that. I guess I kind of resent them though."

He mulled over that for a minute, leaving a pleasantly silent sort of gap in their conversation.

"So... you're FBI?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"What?" he asked, looking shocked, abandoning the books completely.

"The suit, the tie, the shoes, the book-" She refrained from saying the eyes. "Plus, we're like ten miles from Quantico." He looked at her with a carefully arranged sort of poker face, further emboldening her. "So am I right? Or do you have to like kill me now that I've figured it out?" she asked, smiling devilishly.

He looked at her with something like astonishment. "I am FBI." With a half laugh, he pulled his badge out of his side pocket and flipped it open stylishly for her.

"Fancy!" she exclaimed, running her finger over the plastic case almost reverently.

"So you're an amateur profiler?" he asked, returning to the books.

"Not really, I just like to spook my friends by guessing something eerily accurate." He laughed and handed her another book.

They chatted for another couple of minutes before she rang up his books. He kept stammering slightly, or flushing when she looked at him for a second too long. He really was cute. He waved goodbye and she watched him through the glass as he walked to the far end of the parking lot and got into his car. But not before he turned around to smile at her one last time.