modern (lab), fluff, sleep
It’s late.
Thandi has stayed late with her fellow researcher, Dr. Vanderbee, and they’ve been entrenched in the last big problem for hours. The lights had dimmed as they discussed it over a table spread out with dozens and dozens of notes.
They agreed to a five minute break to refill their mugs and hit the bathroom, but when Dr. Vanderbee leaves, she found that she’s more tired than she thought. Her watch explains why: it’s tickling one in the morning. How had they spoken for so long?
Her eyelids are heavy and she yawns. One second. She’ll close her eyes for just one second.
When she next opens them, she’s pressed to warmth and gently placed down on the couch in the breakroom. A blanket seems to appear for her, but it isn’t quite so warm.
“’M cold,” she murmurs, reaching out for that elusive heat.
“You’ll warm soon enough, Dr. Kahsu. Good night.” She watches the form of her colleague move away for a moment before being draped in something warmer. Far more pleasant than the scratchy blanket. She buries her face into it and sleeps on.
The morning is greeted with the beeping of the coffeemaker. It had been her idea to attach it to an alarm so that it’d start brewing for the team before anyone has arrived. It’s 6:45AM and she’s wrapped up in not only the scratchy pink blanket of the break room, but a green sweater and… is this Dr. Vanderbee’s labcoat?
Thandi grips them both, taking a greedy sniff of them. She often wonders what it is about him that attracts her senses so. Pheromones, maybe? It would explain how someone like him remains so attractive still.
She pulls the sweater on, shuffling out and grabbing a toothbrush. Dr. Vanderbee’s idea to keep hygiene kits in the lab. Considering how often he stayed, he may as well be paying rent anyhow. She shuffles to the bathroom and back, yawning as she puts herself in order. Pills in her purse, check. Phone… charged, how thoughtful. Spare clothes… she’ll save those for another time. It’ll be an early day for her.
She goes into the lab and gasps a little to herself. Dr. Vanderbee is asleep over the notes they had made to illustrate the problem. It appears he’s cracked at least two thirds of the problem. A sticky note on the papers read,
Dr. Kahsu—need your brain for the rest. Did what I can.
This pulls a little giggle from her. The last bit is nearly unreadable, and the final penmark slides down and over onto other sheets of paper. He fell asleep working once again. She reaches out and brushes his hair away from his face. His cheek is freezing.
His coat is draped over his shoulders. The rest of the team doesn’t start working until 9 anyhow. She grabs herself some coffee and sets to work finishing the problem, working peacefully beside her coworker.
