Lunch at a molecular level

[James Wilson]

Wayne Tech’s Applied Sciences Materials lab was abuzz about their latest breakthrough. A static material that could be manipulated with a certain combination of electrical current. It was a bit out of James’ specific area of expertise (carbon nanotubes and bacterial biology mostly). He knew who had produced the work, of course: Aurora Qayin.

James was lost in his work sometimes, except for showers. Every day a shower or two. He made sure to check that he was hygienically acceptable to the rest of humanity before queuing up some short term bacterial fabbers to try and spit out perfect nanotubes. It was 5 minutes till lunchtime, and Aurora was pounding out her paper regarding the project for the day when she would be allowed to publish it. The woman was obsessively (and productively) organized. It probably wouldn’t take much longer than a week or two to finish the paper. This wasn’t academia, where publish or perish ruled. This was the rare private fundamental research lab, where theory chased profit. Sometimes papers weren’t published for several years after the practical application of the technology. The scientist in James found this irritating. The SAS soldier understood.

James rapped on her door, loud enough to be heard, but not enough to be obnoxious. He was surprised when it swung all the way open.

“Hello Doctor Qayin.” She had left her door open, probably from all the people coming and going for various reasons.

[Aurora Qayin]

"Doctor Wilson." the brunette retorted, eyes still glued to the binoculars of the microscope as she fiddled with the magnification and sharpness controls. Her hand reached beside her, plugging in a chord that connected the microscope to her datapad. She then lifted her gaze from the equipment to regard the newest arrival; Aurora's hair was assembled in a messy bun, a few dark locks defiantly sticking out. For a change, her face appeared fresh, a consequence from a good-night's sleep.

"How can I help you?" inquired the young scientist and slid across the room on her wheeled chair. The facial expression she maintained was strictly professional, as with all of her other work colleagues. Still, a petite smile crept up to her lips as a sign of appreciation. Somehow, she doubted Wilson wasn't here to quiz her about her latest finding. It was five minutes to lunchtime, afterall.

[James Wilson]

James seldom beat around the bush, mostly from years of being around scientists and soldiers. If you wanted to say something, say it, provided it's been given some thought.

"Don't self-sabotage." Was a long-standing family motto. There were other, more colorful ones from his mother's side of the family.

"I was wondering if you would like to go out to lunch?" James asked. Part professional curiosity, part personal interest. Fact of the matter was that no one seemed to know much about the work-driven woman.

[Aurora Qayin]

Aurora hadn't eaten anything for a while now, apart from that bowl of cornflakes at sunrise. The prospect of lunch appealed to her from a purely nutritional aspect, as the young scientist remained oblivious to any other possible connotations Wilson's invitation had. Nobody had ever walked into her office and asked her to lunch, not in year and a half during which she worked at Wayne tech. Were people free to assume she was going to reject any invitations beforehand?

"Okay." came the simple, meek reply.
She took her lab coat and threw it over the chair, remaining in a pair of worn jeans and a shabby looking black cardigan. The clothes she wore seemed at least one number too large, the entirety of her feminine curvature lost in the excess fabric.
"So, where are we going, Doctor Wilson?" the woman quizzed upon a black coat over herself and wrapping a scarf around her neck.

[James Wilson]

James was a little surprised. Aurora was normally so... distant, and obviously busy. Frankly, he had been busy too. But when an opportunity arrived...

"There's a great French bistro a few blocks from here." James said with a slight smile. "They make their own baguettes."

"Oh." It wasn't an especially interested sound. Food might not have been a priority. Compared to her, he was a social butterfly. Aurora followed him to the garage, where a black '73 Ducati 900 GTS occupied one of the motorcycle spaces. He unlocked the side bag and pulled out a spare helmet. It was a simple, black open face design.

James offered it to her, almost as a question.

[Aurora Qayin]

Quite unexpectedly, she took the helmet without a single complaint. Interested in motorbikes herself, Aurora took a moment to admire the vintage specimen before her. Leaning in, she placed her palm on the exterior of the tank and slid up to reach the dashboard.
"1973 Ducati 900 GTS." Qayin established scientifically, examining the bike's well kept frame - "L-twin engine, I assume. Marzocchi suspension, Brembo brakes. You take good care of your bike, Doctor Wilson."

Aurora pulled the rubber band out of her hair, letting dark locks cascade down her shoulders and all the way to her mid back. Mirroring his smile from earlier, she put the helmet on her head and locked it in place. Without further ado, Qayin sat on the bike behind him, holding onto Wilson's sides. The position they found themselves in was far more intimate than it was customary for work colleagues.

"Hit the gas." said the brunette and arched forwards, readying herself for sudden acceleration that was to follow.

[James Wilson]

James was completely surprised. You'd have to be a real enthusiast to know off the top of the head about the bike. He smiled to himself. Well, well. Aurora had at least given him some topic of conversation that didn't have to do with work.

Once he felt her push into his back, he leaned a touch, and twisted the throttle. The raspy twin cylinder reverberated in the parking garage. He had equipped the bike with modern compound brakes and tires, and had tested them somewhat unwillingly on more than one occasion.

Not prone to heroics, James did not weave in and out of traffic any more than prudent. An accident on the first outside of work meeting wouldn't be any good. Besides, James loved this bike.

A few minutes later, they rumbled up to the bistro. The smell of fresh baked bread and herbs wafted out of the door. James and Aurora stowed their helmets, and walked through the open door. The bistro was half full already, and they were a bit ahead of the lunch rush.

"Bonjour, Doctor Wilson." An older woman, still in good shape, but with shocks of gray hair, greeted them just inside the door.

"Two?" She asked. James smiled and nodded. They were seated what was probably the quietest spot in the smallish restaurant.