Cecilia and Hank, Thursday morning

[xp-beast.livejournal.com]

Cecilia's quiet time gets interrupted in the library by an old new face.

Cecilia was in a very particular state of bliss. A giant cup of coffee and a croissant, procured earlier from a disaffected hipster, sat on the library table in front of her. A highlighter was in her right hand, tilting back and forth between her thumb and forefinger as her eyes scanned the surgery journal in front of her.

The medlab had felt musty and dark, and she'd been starting to feel trapped there over the last few months. There was always work to be done, and most of the time it felt menial. So today, she'd decided to escape, wordlessly. And now she sat in the library, the sun warm on her back as it shined through the windows, while she pored over medical research much like teenage boys devoured the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issues.

Part of the appeal of the library was that it was blissfully quiet - or at least, it was supposed to be. That state was interrupted by the arrival of one Hank McCoy who announced his presence by spotting the young woman bent over the journal and then walking into the umbrella stand by the door - why was there an umbrella stand here? - and sending it clattering to the ground. "I'm sorry!" he exclaimed, stooping too quickly to pick up the offending stand and nearly knocking over the standing lamp nearby. As it wobbled his hand shot out to steady it and so he straightened, stand in one hand and lamp in the other, an apologetic grimace on his lips. "Sorry."

Cecilia almost jumped up in alarm at the noise, but now, staring at the sheepish-looking young man, she couldn't help the smile that came to her lips. She did her best to suppress it. "Are you okay?" It crept back onto her lips.

"I, ah, yes, I'm fine," Hank mumbled, his cheeks a lovely shade of pink. "I just... wasn't watching where I was going, I suppose. I'm sorry to disturb you. I'll just... put this down," he said, crouching to set the stand back by the door, "and leave you alone."

"No, please, it's no bother." Cecilia's smile morphed into something less mocking and more friendly. "I've been here long enough to expect a little chaos." She scooted her chair back from the table. "I'm Cecilia. I don't know that we've met yet."

"No, uh, we haven't. I'm Hank." With the stand and the lamp finally back where they belong he was able to step forward and offer her one oversized hand to shake. "I'm new here. And I'm really sorry about th-- is that the BJS?"

Cecilia shook his hand and tried not to look too dazed. Hank. And if there was any doubt about which Hank, the big hand was a clue. A badly-needed clue, since this Hank was more peach than aquamarine.

She withdrew her hand, still lost in thought, when she noticed him still looking at her expectantly. "Huh?" Cecilia stared at him blankly for a second. "Oh," she looked at the periodical. "Yeah, it is." She smiled as she looked back at him. "I was a surgeon. Well, still am, I guess."

The news made him grin, lighting up his boyish face with delight. "You must work in the medlab, then. It's wonderful that there are so many physicians and researchers here; there must be some truly cutting-edge medicine going on."

"Yeah, I do." His smile was infectious. As Cecilia nodded, her own expression turned into a grin. "I'll admit that my interest is more clinical than most, but we work a lot with the folks in Scotland, who are far more research-oriented. But we're certainly on the vanguard of whatever passes for mutant medicine these days." She reached for her coffee. "So," she said rather innocently, "you're a science guy, then?"

"Oh I dunno about that," he dissembled, reaching up to rub the back of his neck bashfully. "I mean, I'm studying Molecular Genetics at the moment but I've also considered pre-med - what do you think? Clinical versus research is a hard thing to decide between."

"Molecular Genetics." Cecilia whistled appreciatively. "Pretty impressive, Hank." She took a sip. "Honestly, I think if you stay on the genetics track, you'll be taking everything you need to go the med-school route. I mean, you'll be ready to ace the MCATs, and hospitals love research-oriented doctors. Not that I was ever interested in being one."

"Really?" he asked, tipping his head to one side curiously. "I don't know if I could imagine not being involved in research in some way... Not that clinical work isn't important," he rushed to add. "But especially a place like here, there's so much yet undiscovered, so much good you could do."

"Sure," Cecilia nodded with a small shrug, "but there's so much good you can do in a hospital or in the field. It's not like I'm pulling down six figures at a cushy medical center. I'm a trained trauma surgeon. I was in Doctors without Borders. Different kinds of good."

"Oh of course!" Hank seemed to realise he had stuck his (admittedly rather large) foot in his mouth, blushing bright pink again as he struggled to try and make things better. "I wasn't meaning that no good comes of actual patient work - obviously it's important. Crucial, even. I was just being selfish, I guess - I like the puzzle of research. But what you do... it's great. Amazing, even. I really admire it."

"Thanks, but relax." Amused to see him so flustered, Cecilia couldn't help but smile. "I wasn't offended. I've got a great sense of purpose. And besides, couldn't do anything I do without people diving deep on the research end." She took another sip from the coffee cup. "It's good to have a foot in both camps, I suppose. And we've got people doing both here, so we get to explore all sorts of things."

Relieved that his screw-up hadn't completely ruined things, Hank nodded gratefully. "I still can't believe I'm really here," he admitted, dropping his eyes to the floor.

"How do you mean?" Cecilia scooted, turning her chair so she could face him without contorting her posture. "Good way or bad way?" She looked around the library, gesturing around her. "Safe space."

"Oh, a good way, believe me," he said, glancing up again. "Living out in the middle of nowhere, in Illinois, as a visible mutant... don't get me wrong, most folks were nice enough but I never felt like I really belonged there. Here everybody's so..."

"Unique?" Cecilia laughed. "Odd? Strange? Different? No shortage of words for the cast of characters here, I assure you."

"All of the above," Hank said with an answering chuckle. "But I suppose since I'm... odd as well, I feel a lot more at home here."

"Oh, sure." Cecilia nodded, the smile still on her face. "I think that's the best thing about this place. I mean, the mansion's great, plenty of amenities. And a fully equipped, state-of-the-art medical facility is great. But to just, like, be somewhere and not have to worry about your powers accidentally triggering or what people will find out is just... so liberating."

She could tell he wanted to ask, really wanted to ask what her power was but Midwestern politeness and the fear of causing yet more embarrassment stopped that question in its tracks. Instead he merely smiled and nodded his agreement. "I'm sure it is. I, uh, should let you get back to your reading, though. I've got some journals to check out myself before school starts."

"Oh, sure," Cecilia did her best not to let the amusement play on her face. Still a gentleman, even in this world. "Don't let me keep you. But it was great to meet you, and I guess I'll be seeing more of you around."

"I hope so. I mean, in the medlab," he corrected himself quickly, blushing (again) and taking a step back. The movement brought him perilously close to a stack of books balanced on a nearby shelf, and as he reached to rub his neck with one hand they all came toppling to the floor. "Crap, sorry," he muttered as he bent to retrieve them, "I'll just... put them back... and go..."

Cecilia couldn't help a pitying look. "Oh, no, here, let me help." She rose, walking over to join him. "We've all had days like this, I promise. You're in a new place. It's a lot to deal with."

He shot her a grateful look, though it was somewhat undone by the clumsy way he nearly dropped the books when it looked as if their hands might brush. "Thanks. I think I might just lock myself in my room until it passes. So you can expect to see me in... approximately ten years' time."

Cecilia laughed. "Okay, then." She scooped up a few books and shoved them on the shelf. "It's a date."

It was just as well Hank was still hunkered down on the ground; it meant he couldn't drop the books again. "Um, yes. Right." He stayed down there a little longer than was strictly necessary, and couldn't seem to quite meet her eye upon standing. "It's been a pleasure. I'll, um, I'm sure I'll see you later."

"Sure. Big mansion, but it's not that big." She straightened the last book she placed on the shelf, then looked down at him. An eyebrow lifted slightly; there was something curious about him. "Take care, Hank."