And Heaven Too
Chapter Three
Dell’s voice is cheerful and all tomfoolery comes to a stop. Half a dozen faces look over from the far corner, where half a dozen bodies are gathered around something, and stare Mike to a standstill. He’s not even fully in the room yet.
A short, dark-skinned woman reacts first with a high pitched squeak followed by, “Holy shit. It’s Mike Green.” More surprise and astonishment follows and Dell pulls him over to the knot of people. He doesn’t know that he wants to go. They’re either full of awe or exuding blatant dislike.
“Mike, this is Cecilia.” Her hands cup the short woman’s shoulders and push her towards him. “Will you keep him busy for a few minutes? I’m late for a meeting with Anders.”
He stares at Cecilia and she stares right back. She might be shaking a bit; wide-eyed and stunned. Her eyes are glued on him when she nods slowly and Dell disappears.
“You are my very favorite player ever. I threw a party when you resigned in July. I own, like, four Gang Green shirts. I bought a signed jersey on eBay. It was really expensive but you’re worth it.”
Mike is so uncomfortable he can barely breathe. He loves fans. Fans are great. He likes space, though, and Cecilia is rapidly backing him right out of the room. He estimates his chances of getting out the door before she catches him to be very low. And once there, he’d have to find his way back through the maze, and-
“Yo, short stuff. Back off.” Cecilia is pulled backwards and Mike can breathe again. “Hey, I’m Mike, too.” His savior, Mike Too, is British and looks really sorry for his co-worker’s behavior. They share a hand shake and it breaks most of the ice. The others all gather around and he’s absolutely shocked to find out they’re all hockey fans.
A twenty minute discussion of the lock-out, God he hates the topic, ends rather abruptly when the only other woman throws up her hands and declares the NHL dead; a victim of overinflated egos. “I really hope not,” Mike scoffs. “I’d like to get paid.” He really would. Insurance is expensive on a Lambo.
She turns on him, finger raised, and Mike gets the feeling he’s just awoken a sleeping bear. She’s clearly an angry-at-everyone sort of fan. He doesn’t really blame her but she’s making him nervous. “Hey, there are starv-“
For the second time he’s saved in the nick of time. Dell smoothly steps in front of the other woman and pushes down her pointing finger. “Simmer down, dude. What did we discuss about hockey politics at work?”
Mike blinks, hard. Dell’s hair is down, curling softly midway down to her back. She’s also wearing a form-fitting dark green sweater that looks crazy soft and a pair of tight dark gray pants. The work boots are gone too, replaced with a pair of knee high riding boots, black. She looks, at least from the back, like an extremely well put together woman and he can’t help but grin.
“Never at work, only over beers and only when we’re not watching games.” The other woman, Jacks maybe, backs down pretty quickly. Dell is apparently good at diffusing situations. And uses ‘dude’ a lot.
She turns in front of him, close. Close enough that her chest brushes his with every inhale. He takes a step back, giving her some space. “Good meeting?”
The crowd at her back is listening with rapt attention. “Yeah. For sure. Now, coffee?”
She grabs his hand and leads him deeper into the room, behind a set of bookshelves. There’s a veritable cavern full of cubicles; the office she mentioned? Back in the corner there’s also a kitchenette. As they approach he sees that it’s got a microwave, and a fridge and a coffeemaker with a full pot. Her grin turns silly when she pours him a cup and asks how he likes it.
Friendly and surprising, he thinks. Just like her. He could totally see himself taking this girl home. She’s Mike-sized: not so petite that he dwarfs her but she’s still at least four inches shorter than he is. He thinks his hands would fit very well at her waist, not quite meeting but solid.
Her cough drags him from his revelry and she is giggling when she hands him his cup. “Thanks,” he mumbles before looking away.
“You’re welcome.” She teases him before pouring herself a cup of coffee, extra creamer. “Would you care to step into my office?” He nods for her to lead the way and she wanders through the maze of cubicles.
There are close to a dozen, all empty, and hers is in the back corner, packed with books. The titles look entirely academic. She plops down in a folding camp chair and gestures for him to take the other one in the space. Her legs sprawl, the left over the arm of the chair and the right stretching out in front of her. Totally relaxed and not particularly lady-like. He envies her a little.
“So, did you just come to check out the snake today?” She looks at him expectantly over the rim of her cup.
He remembers the drink in his hand and takes a sip. It’s actually pretty good; Starbuck’s quality at least. “Yeah. One of my teammates saw it like six months ago. He said it was awesome.”
She sighs sadly. “And it was just creepy. How unfortunate. Did you check anything else out?”
He talks about his wanderings through the Natural History museum. He hadn’t visited before today and it had been interesting. The dinosaurs had been his favorite. Dell laughs because, of course they were, they’re everyone’s. Since her office is located in the ‘Excavations’ department, he thinks it’s valid to ask, “Have you ever found dinosaurs?” He thinks that would totally awesome.
She looks insulted, though, when he asks. She leans over and snags a name plate off her cluttered desk. It reads ‘Adlai Spencer, M.S. Archaeology’. Okay, he thinks. Clearly he’s not getting the connection. “I’m an archaeologist, Mike. I don’t study dinosaurs. Just people.” She talks slowly, like he’s a school kid. It doesn’t really bother him; she looks a little frustrated and disappointed and this probably isn’t the first time she’s had to explain this.
He thinks of something else. “Wait, your name is Adlai?”
She lets out an excellent laugh. It’s a little dorky and sort of awkward but it’s clear and it’s honest. And he could listen to it forever.
Dell, Adlai, is really easy to talk to. She chats about her work at the Smithsonian: she’s an on-call archaeological analyst on fellowship who works in many departments but is based in the American History museum (she calls it the AmHis, pronounced as one word). She also asks him about what he’s doing with himself: he explains practices and trying to keep in touch with his family and friends back home. It sucks, being gone when there’s no season, but a deal could come any day.
They also talk about hockey. He’s amazed at her bank of knowledge as she rambles off facts and game recaps. He gives her some shit for not being the die-hard Capitals fan that he expected and she shoots back that she cannot be limited to one team. She has favorites, the Capitals one of them, but she loves the sport too much. It’s actually sort of funny to listen to how passionate she is; it reminds him of a lot of the players he knows.
She drops the bomb that she plays with his videogame version on NHL13 casually, between sips of her coffee. He chokes on the last of his drink, his fifth one if he remembers right, almost spraying her. She laughs when she hands him a napkin. “Easy killer.”
“Seriously, you have time for video games?” He doesn’t believe it. She’s gorgeous, out of the clothes she’d explained as dirty work gear, and she’s smart. She’s had a few awkward moments but usually she seems friendly and well put together. There is no way a girl this good spends any amount of time sitting in front of a TV playing video games.
“Most of my free-time, actually. I’m only on the campus for about twenty hours a week. I’ve got one class this semester. I have nothing better to do so I play. On-line too. Most guys hate playing me.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, like it’s not a crime that she’s not out enjoying the world.
“That’s weird. I really don’t have much to do either.” He thinks maybe he’s leading this towards another date, a real date, when Mike Too sticks his head through the opening.
“Closing time, Dell. Did you want to lock up?”
She frowns and looks at her phone. Because he’s attached to tech at his hip he checks the time too. It’s almost six. They’ve been talking of hours and neither of them noticed. It makes him smile, thinking he hasn’t been able to do that in months.
When he catches her staring at him, she appears to be in some sort of internal discussion with herself. He should ask her to dinner. He should sweep the lonely, nerdy, and extremely hot archaeologist off her feet. Maybe she’s got a whip and a fedora at home. There’s not much left to imagination in her curve-hugging outfit; he gets the feeling she’d give him a heart attack with those props while wearing lingerie. His pants tighten at the thought.
“Nah. We’ll get out of your hair.” She stands and he follows immediately. She collects a coat and hat and grabs a duffle bag. “Shall we?”
Oh, he thinks, they shall.
The main work area is empty when they pass back through but Dell calls out a goodbye to a doctor and from behind another bookshelf comes a response to drive safe. He trails after her, still lost in the great maze of administrative hallways.
She stops in reception; the space is dark, most of the workers long gone. She’s close but she isn’t looking at him. She’s checking her phone again. She’s done this intermittently, a little obsessively. He’d judge her for it but it’s an Iphone so he forgives her and cups her elbow instead.
He’ll just casually ask if she wants to get some food and a drink and from there . . . he has a really good idea. A few of them in fact and all of them involving showing him some of the nicer aspects of his loft.
“It was really cool of you to tag along with me. The department is going to be giving me shit for weeks.” Her laugh. Man, her laugh shoots straight through him, grabbing at his heart.
“Thanks for letting me.” He turns her a bit, gets his other hand on her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath when he cradles her waist. She’s soft and yielding beneath the soft dark green fabric.
Hmmm, dark green. It would match the carpet in his bedroom perfectly.
“You still have that pamphlet?” He blinks and tries to clear his head. Pamphlet? Yeah, he nods. It’s folded up in his coat somewhere. She cracks a grin. “Great. If you visit again you should call and I’ll give you a tour. The archives are epic; we’ve barely got a tenth of the collection on display.”
Wait. What? He blinks again, her rejection sweeping through him. She didn’t even give him a chance to ask her out, for real. “Um- but, I kinda hoped you’d let me take you out to dinner or something. There’s this really great place down by my loft. They have great Italian. I mean, if you’re not busy tonight or something.” He sounds like an idiot. A desperate, horny idiot. He sort of is.
She colors at his question and backs up. Not much, but it’s clear that she’s not interested. Hmmm. Well, that’s new. He could have sworn that she- no, he guesses not. She drops her gaze away and he gives her some space. Maybe she’s got a boyfriend. Maybe she’s just a huge fan who wanted to hang out. It’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened to him but it’s one of the most disappointing. “Or, you know. Not. It’s cool. I’ve gotta be up early in the morning anyway and I’m sure you’ve gotta go to work early and don’t worry about it. Forget I ever said anything.” He hates that he rambles when he’s nervous.
“I would really like to, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry.” She looks at him again and he sees the same disappointment flash across her face. What is going on, here?
“Oooookay. Well, then I will certainly give you a call the next time I visit.” He wants to scream in frustration. This girl is amazing and she’s just blowing him off like it’s no big deal. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, though. He doesn’t want to push because he’s a nice guy and nice guys don’t rudely pursue girls. They give them space. They give them an opening.
He pulls out his phone and unlocks it. He doesn’t even give her a choice as he hands it to her, the right screen up for adding a new contact. “Give me your number and I’ll make sure you’re prepared for the next visit. It looks like I might have to schedule in advance.” She raises her eye brows at his request but does it anyway.
If he can’t get her out to dinner tonight he can at least try again later.
She actually calls her phone herself and nods when it connects. “I’ll keep an eye out. I should go though; I’ve gotta do some laundry or I’ll be wearing African dirt when I’m working for the rest of the week.”
It’s on the tip of his tongue to offer her a ride. His SUV is only a few blocks south. Something flashes in her eyes, though, and he refrains.
Instead, Mike opens the door for her back into the main complex and then the front door. They walk down the steps, the wrong side of the building for him, and he keeps up with her all the way to the Metro station. She must think he’s crazy but its dark out already and he feels this urge to protect her. Before he lets her run off fully he catches her upper arm gently.
“Seriously, thanks for letting me tag along. I had a great time. And I will definitely text you when I’m coming back.”
She looks relieved that he’s not pushing but also regretful. “Yeah for sure. Have a good night Mike.” She doesn’t give him a hug and he watches her disappear underground.
A short, dark-skinned woman reacts first with a high pitched squeak followed by, “Holy shit. It’s Mike Green.” More surprise and astonishment follows and Dell pulls him over to the knot of people. He doesn’t know that he wants to go. They’re either full of awe or exuding blatant dislike.
“Mike, this is Cecilia.” Her hands cup the short woman’s shoulders and push her towards him. “Will you keep him busy for a few minutes? I’m late for a meeting with Anders.”
He stares at Cecilia and she stares right back. She might be shaking a bit; wide-eyed and stunned. Her eyes are glued on him when she nods slowly and Dell disappears.
“You are my very favorite player ever. I threw a party when you resigned in July. I own, like, four Gang Green shirts. I bought a signed jersey on eBay. It was really expensive but you’re worth it.”
Mike is so uncomfortable he can barely breathe. He loves fans. Fans are great. He likes space, though, and Cecilia is rapidly backing him right out of the room. He estimates his chances of getting out the door before she catches him to be very low. And once there, he’d have to find his way back through the maze, and-
“Yo, short stuff. Back off.” Cecilia is pulled backwards and Mike can breathe again. “Hey, I’m Mike, too.” His savior, Mike Too, is British and looks really sorry for his co-worker’s behavior. They share a hand shake and it breaks most of the ice. The others all gather around and he’s absolutely shocked to find out they’re all hockey fans.
A twenty minute discussion of the lock-out, God he hates the topic, ends rather abruptly when the only other woman throws up her hands and declares the NHL dead; a victim of overinflated egos. “I really hope not,” Mike scoffs. “I’d like to get paid.” He really would. Insurance is expensive on a Lambo.
She turns on him, finger raised, and Mike gets the feeling he’s just awoken a sleeping bear. She’s clearly an angry-at-everyone sort of fan. He doesn’t really blame her but she’s making him nervous. “Hey, there are starv-“
For the second time he’s saved in the nick of time. Dell smoothly steps in front of the other woman and pushes down her pointing finger. “Simmer down, dude. What did we discuss about hockey politics at work?”
Mike blinks, hard. Dell’s hair is down, curling softly midway down to her back. She’s also wearing a form-fitting dark green sweater that looks crazy soft and a pair of tight dark gray pants. The work boots are gone too, replaced with a pair of knee high riding boots, black. She looks, at least from the back, like an extremely well put together woman and he can’t help but grin.
“Never at work, only over beers and only when we’re not watching games.” The other woman, Jacks maybe, backs down pretty quickly. Dell is apparently good at diffusing situations. And uses ‘dude’ a lot.
She turns in front of him, close. Close enough that her chest brushes his with every inhale. He takes a step back, giving her some space. “Good meeting?”
The crowd at her back is listening with rapt attention. “Yeah. For sure. Now, coffee?”
She grabs his hand and leads him deeper into the room, behind a set of bookshelves. There’s a veritable cavern full of cubicles; the office she mentioned? Back in the corner there’s also a kitchenette. As they approach he sees that it’s got a microwave, and a fridge and a coffeemaker with a full pot. Her grin turns silly when she pours him a cup and asks how he likes it.
Friendly and surprising, he thinks. Just like her. He could totally see himself taking this girl home. She’s Mike-sized: not so petite that he dwarfs her but she’s still at least four inches shorter than he is. He thinks his hands would fit very well at her waist, not quite meeting but solid.
Her cough drags him from his revelry and she is giggling when she hands him his cup. “Thanks,” he mumbles before looking away.
“You’re welcome.” She teases him before pouring herself a cup of coffee, extra creamer. “Would you care to step into my office?” He nods for her to lead the way and she wanders through the maze of cubicles.
There are close to a dozen, all empty, and hers is in the back corner, packed with books. The titles look entirely academic. She plops down in a folding camp chair and gestures for him to take the other one in the space. Her legs sprawl, the left over the arm of the chair and the right stretching out in front of her. Totally relaxed and not particularly lady-like. He envies her a little.
“So, did you just come to check out the snake today?” She looks at him expectantly over the rim of her cup.
He remembers the drink in his hand and takes a sip. It’s actually pretty good; Starbuck’s quality at least. “Yeah. One of my teammates saw it like six months ago. He said it was awesome.”
She sighs sadly. “And it was just creepy. How unfortunate. Did you check anything else out?”
He talks about his wanderings through the Natural History museum. He hadn’t visited before today and it had been interesting. The dinosaurs had been his favorite. Dell laughs because, of course they were, they’re everyone’s. Since her office is located in the ‘Excavations’ department, he thinks it’s valid to ask, “Have you ever found dinosaurs?” He thinks that would totally awesome.
She looks insulted, though, when he asks. She leans over and snags a name plate off her cluttered desk. It reads ‘Adlai Spencer, M.S. Archaeology’. Okay, he thinks. Clearly he’s not getting the connection. “I’m an archaeologist, Mike. I don’t study dinosaurs. Just people.” She talks slowly, like he’s a school kid. It doesn’t really bother him; she looks a little frustrated and disappointed and this probably isn’t the first time she’s had to explain this.
He thinks of something else. “Wait, your name is Adlai?”
She lets out an excellent laugh. It’s a little dorky and sort of awkward but it’s clear and it’s honest. And he could listen to it forever.
Dell, Adlai, is really easy to talk to. She chats about her work at the Smithsonian: she’s an on-call archaeological analyst on fellowship who works in many departments but is based in the American History museum (she calls it the AmHis, pronounced as one word). She also asks him about what he’s doing with himself: he explains practices and trying to keep in touch with his family and friends back home. It sucks, being gone when there’s no season, but a deal could come any day.
They also talk about hockey. He’s amazed at her bank of knowledge as she rambles off facts and game recaps. He gives her some shit for not being the die-hard Capitals fan that he expected and she shoots back that she cannot be limited to one team. She has favorites, the Capitals one of them, but she loves the sport too much. It’s actually sort of funny to listen to how passionate she is; it reminds him of a lot of the players he knows.
She drops the bomb that she plays with his videogame version on NHL13 casually, between sips of her coffee. He chokes on the last of his drink, his fifth one if he remembers right, almost spraying her. She laughs when she hands him a napkin. “Easy killer.”
“Seriously, you have time for video games?” He doesn’t believe it. She’s gorgeous, out of the clothes she’d explained as dirty work gear, and she’s smart. She’s had a few awkward moments but usually she seems friendly and well put together. There is no way a girl this good spends any amount of time sitting in front of a TV playing video games.
“Most of my free-time, actually. I’m only on the campus for about twenty hours a week. I’ve got one class this semester. I have nothing better to do so I play. On-line too. Most guys hate playing me.” She shrugs like it’s nothing, like it’s not a crime that she’s not out enjoying the world.
“That’s weird. I really don’t have much to do either.” He thinks maybe he’s leading this towards another date, a real date, when Mike Too sticks his head through the opening.
“Closing time, Dell. Did you want to lock up?”
She frowns and looks at her phone. Because he’s attached to tech at his hip he checks the time too. It’s almost six. They’ve been talking of hours and neither of them noticed. It makes him smile, thinking he hasn’t been able to do that in months.
When he catches her staring at him, she appears to be in some sort of internal discussion with herself. He should ask her to dinner. He should sweep the lonely, nerdy, and extremely hot archaeologist off her feet. Maybe she’s got a whip and a fedora at home. There’s not much left to imagination in her curve-hugging outfit; he gets the feeling she’d give him a heart attack with those props while wearing lingerie. His pants tighten at the thought.
“Nah. We’ll get out of your hair.” She stands and he follows immediately. She collects a coat and hat and grabs a duffle bag. “Shall we?”
Oh, he thinks, they shall.
The main work area is empty when they pass back through but Dell calls out a goodbye to a doctor and from behind another bookshelf comes a response to drive safe. He trails after her, still lost in the great maze of administrative hallways.
She stops in reception; the space is dark, most of the workers long gone. She’s close but she isn’t looking at him. She’s checking her phone again. She’s done this intermittently, a little obsessively. He’d judge her for it but it’s an Iphone so he forgives her and cups her elbow instead.
He’ll just casually ask if she wants to get some food and a drink and from there . . . he has a really good idea. A few of them in fact and all of them involving showing him some of the nicer aspects of his loft.
“It was really cool of you to tag along with me. The department is going to be giving me shit for weeks.” Her laugh. Man, her laugh shoots straight through him, grabbing at his heart.
“Thanks for letting me.” He turns her a bit, gets his other hand on her waist. She sucks in a sharp breath when he cradles her waist. She’s soft and yielding beneath the soft dark green fabric.
Hmmm, dark green. It would match the carpet in his bedroom perfectly.
“You still have that pamphlet?” He blinks and tries to clear his head. Pamphlet? Yeah, he nods. It’s folded up in his coat somewhere. She cracks a grin. “Great. If you visit again you should call and I’ll give you a tour. The archives are epic; we’ve barely got a tenth of the collection on display.”
Wait. What? He blinks again, her rejection sweeping through him. She didn’t even give him a chance to ask her out, for real. “Um- but, I kinda hoped you’d let me take you out to dinner or something. There’s this really great place down by my loft. They have great Italian. I mean, if you’re not busy tonight or something.” He sounds like an idiot. A desperate, horny idiot. He sort of is.
She colors at his question and backs up. Not much, but it’s clear that she’s not interested. Hmmm. Well, that’s new. He could have sworn that she- no, he guesses not. She drops her gaze away and he gives her some space. Maybe she’s got a boyfriend. Maybe she’s just a huge fan who wanted to hang out. It’s not the weirdest thing that’s happened to him but it’s one of the most disappointing. “Or, you know. Not. It’s cool. I’ve gotta be up early in the morning anyway and I’m sure you’ve gotta go to work early and don’t worry about it. Forget I ever said anything.” He hates that he rambles when he’s nervous.
“I would really like to, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry.” She looks at him again and he sees the same disappointment flash across her face. What is going on, here?
“Oooookay. Well, then I will certainly give you a call the next time I visit.” He wants to scream in frustration. This girl is amazing and she’s just blowing him off like it’s no big deal. He doesn’t want to be an asshole, though. He doesn’t want to push because he’s a nice guy and nice guys don’t rudely pursue girls. They give them space. They give them an opening.
He pulls out his phone and unlocks it. He doesn’t even give her a choice as he hands it to her, the right screen up for adding a new contact. “Give me your number and I’ll make sure you’re prepared for the next visit. It looks like I might have to schedule in advance.” She raises her eye brows at his request but does it anyway.
If he can’t get her out to dinner tonight he can at least try again later.
She actually calls her phone herself and nods when it connects. “I’ll keep an eye out. I should go though; I’ve gotta do some laundry or I’ll be wearing African dirt when I’m working for the rest of the week.”
It’s on the tip of his tongue to offer her a ride. His SUV is only a few blocks south. Something flashes in her eyes, though, and he refrains.
Instead, Mike opens the door for her back into the main complex and then the front door. They walk down the steps, the wrong side of the building for him, and he keeps up with her all the way to the Metro station. She must think he’s crazy but its dark out already and he feels this urge to protect her. Before he lets her run off fully he catches her upper arm gently.
“Seriously, thanks for letting me tag along. I had a great time. And I will definitely text you when I’m coming back.”
She looks relieved that he’s not pushing but also regretful. “Yeah for sure. Have a good night Mike.” She doesn’t give him a hug and he watches her disappear underground.
9/9/13