And Heaven Too
Chapter One
Mike Green has some serious problems. Essentially unemployed. Single, again. Fuck. Pretty much alone in DC, actually. And confused as hell. The map in front of him appears to have been designed by evil, tunneling minions. Or something. He doesn’t even know anymore.
All around him, visitors to the Natural History Museum bustle, going about their merry, knowing ways. He resents them. He should just leave.
What was he even doing here?
It smells like old cooking oil by the food courts and he hates it. It makes him think of stomach aches and eating whatever he wants. It’s sort of depressing really. He should really just go home, but, dammit, Nicky told him to go check out a giant snake and he’s going to find the giant snake.
Dammit.
He looks back over the sign and then consults the guidebook in his hand once more. It’s somewhere on the second floor but it’s not listed on the map. Mike huffs and looks around. Maybe he can find someone who works there.
His eyes hit her first. Not because she’s in his line of sight so much as she sort of looks like a bum. She’s got on men’s cargo shorts, a sleeveless, bright green shirt, and an orange scarf. He stares, thinking that she’s dressed like a guy. She’s even got a pair of work boots on. Total hobo. He’d think she was here for some free heat but her clothes aren’t dirty and she’s not dirty.
And she’s purchasing some food back a ways. He watches her thank the cashier and start through the lobby. Back towards him. He watches as long as he can before she’s almost on top of him and he looks back to the map really quickly. Hopefully she didn’t notice; he’s not a rude guy and thinking about some poor woman as homeless is definitely rude.
He’s pretty sure he’s in the clear until someone steps up next to him, humming something softly under their breath. He doesn’t look- please don’t let it be her.
“Hey, do you need some help?” The voice is soft, tentative, and when he glances over, the woman with the man’s clothes is giving him a helpful smile. This close he can see that she’s a little dusty but certainly not dirty. She’s even wearing a touch of make-up which gives her a glowing complexion and bright eyes. Her dark brown hair hangs in a messy ponytail that he’s pretty sure is just styled to look that way. She’s pale and freckled. Mike wonders if she’s got freckles everywhere and then he looks directly into her gaze.
Those eyes. Man, he thinks he could fall into eyes that blue like a drop in the ocean without a problem. He’s staring. He’s being rude again. But Jesus fuck; he’s mesmerized. She lifts an eyebrow at him, still wondering if he’s in need of assistance.
She frowns a little and he can see recognition skirt the edges of her expression. Maybe she's a crazy fan and she’s going to bug him. Or something. Even though her hands are full with her lunch she’s sure to have a sharpie hidden on her somewhere. He spends a long time thinking about this, thinking about how signing something for her would mean he’d have to look away from her.
“Dude, are you lost? You look lost.” She glances down to the pamphlet in his hand and smiles. “Ahhh, the horrific snake exhibit.” After a shuffle with her lunch, she grabs the pamphlet. Then, wonders of wonders, digs a sharpie out of her side pocket. On the little map on the back of the pamphlet she sketches out a route for him and hands it back.
His mouth works uselessly, trying to form words for a minute, before he coughs out a thanks and she grins. “No problem. Enjoy the terror of the east wing!” She steps away, her sandwich no longer crammed under an arm, and wanders off. He watches her go, watches the non-descript form meander through the crowd until she gets to a security door. And then he watches her use a key card to get in.
She works here.
This is a mild surprise. She hadn’t looked professional in the least. Perhaps her day off? Perhaps the Smithsonian was much more lax about a dress code than he’d first thought.
The pamphlet burns in his hands and he looks down to find that she’s given him not only directions but’s also scribbled a name: Dell. And her number. With the accompanying note: “call this extension if you get lost again. i’ll be here til 2.”
All around him, visitors to the Natural History Museum bustle, going about their merry, knowing ways. He resents them. He should just leave.
What was he even doing here?
It smells like old cooking oil by the food courts and he hates it. It makes him think of stomach aches and eating whatever he wants. It’s sort of depressing really. He should really just go home, but, dammit, Nicky told him to go check out a giant snake and he’s going to find the giant snake.
Dammit.
He looks back over the sign and then consults the guidebook in his hand once more. It’s somewhere on the second floor but it’s not listed on the map. Mike huffs and looks around. Maybe he can find someone who works there.
His eyes hit her first. Not because she’s in his line of sight so much as she sort of looks like a bum. She’s got on men’s cargo shorts, a sleeveless, bright green shirt, and an orange scarf. He stares, thinking that she’s dressed like a guy. She’s even got a pair of work boots on. Total hobo. He’d think she was here for some free heat but her clothes aren’t dirty and she’s not dirty.
And she’s purchasing some food back a ways. He watches her thank the cashier and start through the lobby. Back towards him. He watches as long as he can before she’s almost on top of him and he looks back to the map really quickly. Hopefully she didn’t notice; he’s not a rude guy and thinking about some poor woman as homeless is definitely rude.
He’s pretty sure he’s in the clear until someone steps up next to him, humming something softly under their breath. He doesn’t look- please don’t let it be her.
“Hey, do you need some help?” The voice is soft, tentative, and when he glances over, the woman with the man’s clothes is giving him a helpful smile. This close he can see that she’s a little dusty but certainly not dirty. She’s even wearing a touch of make-up which gives her a glowing complexion and bright eyes. Her dark brown hair hangs in a messy ponytail that he’s pretty sure is just styled to look that way. She’s pale and freckled. Mike wonders if she’s got freckles everywhere and then he looks directly into her gaze.
Those eyes. Man, he thinks he could fall into eyes that blue like a drop in the ocean without a problem. He’s staring. He’s being rude again. But Jesus fuck; he’s mesmerized. She lifts an eyebrow at him, still wondering if he’s in need of assistance.
She frowns a little and he can see recognition skirt the edges of her expression. Maybe she's a crazy fan and she’s going to bug him. Or something. Even though her hands are full with her lunch she’s sure to have a sharpie hidden on her somewhere. He spends a long time thinking about this, thinking about how signing something for her would mean he’d have to look away from her.
“Dude, are you lost? You look lost.” She glances down to the pamphlet in his hand and smiles. “Ahhh, the horrific snake exhibit.” After a shuffle with her lunch, she grabs the pamphlet. Then, wonders of wonders, digs a sharpie out of her side pocket. On the little map on the back of the pamphlet she sketches out a route for him and hands it back.
His mouth works uselessly, trying to form words for a minute, before he coughs out a thanks and she grins. “No problem. Enjoy the terror of the east wing!” She steps away, her sandwich no longer crammed under an arm, and wanders off. He watches her go, watches the non-descript form meander through the crowd until she gets to a security door. And then he watches her use a key card to get in.
She works here.
This is a mild surprise. She hadn’t looked professional in the least. Perhaps her day off? Perhaps the Smithsonian was much more lax about a dress code than he’d first thought.
The pamphlet burns in his hands and he looks down to find that she’s given him not only directions but’s also scribbled a name: Dell. And her number. With the accompanying note: “call this extension if you get lost again. i’ll be here til 2.”
9/9/13