Chapter 7

John sat back in his high backed chair and rubbed the soreness out of his eyes. Staring at the computer screen ineffectually was starting to get to him. Floating on the screen was a complex macromolecule that he was able to purify from the blood sample. Isolating it had taken weeks of work. Despite the advances in biochemistry, the field was still wanting in speeding up and streamlining the testing process. John sighed and powered down the console. He stared up at the clock. It was late, well past dinner. He fingered the elevator panel and made his way to the parking garage. His bike rested on its kickstand in the cavernous parking structure. Apparently he wasn't alone. Samantha's sporty red Mercedes was parked not too far away.

John hadn't spoken to her since the charity ball nearly three weeks ago. They never made mention of another date, both indecisive if they should make anything of the apparent attraction between them. Instead, a sort of waiting game progressed. John thought of the old analogy about how porcupines mate, very carefully. Both were cautious. John was sure that Samantha had a few barbed quills just like he did. But when it came right down to it he knew they were just afraid. John couldn't trust himself. Not with his cursed ability. He looked down at his gloved hands. Every morning he had to armor himself in those leather sheaths.

John took a deep breath and slapped on his visored helmet. He turned the key in his bike's ignition and waited for it to warm up. He looked at Samantha's car in the dim garage lighting. She really was something. She always had a cool, calm exterior, always in control. Most people found her façade daunting. Many were given the impression that she was an Ice Queen. John had even heard other workers calling her a bitch on occasion for her ruthless business management. John's head wasn't completely glued to his work. He popped in on the other departments to see what they were up to. Whenever Samantha pulled the plug on someone's research it was usually for valid reasons. Her cold attitude only made it easier for other people to blame her.

The streetlamps' halogen glow streaked by him as he sped down crowded avenues and banked around empty corners. Most shops were closed at the late hour. John checked his watch and gunned his engine. He just might be able to make it in time.

Allesio's was still open as he swept the kickstand down and hopped off his bike. He ordered a few things to go and chatted with Erica as he waited for his food. Erica hugged him good-bye and said that she'd talk to him later; she had the closing shift tonight. John hopped back on his bike and turned around. He slowed down in front of the Pharmtech building and looked up. Her light was still on.

John parked his bike and flashed his ID at the security guard in the main foyer. Ron nodded and returned to his vigil by the bank of monitors. The elevator quickly brought him to the top floor and chimed open as he stepped off. John thought it would be nice to see the look of surprise on Samantha's face since her perfectly ordered world wouldn't account for his unexpected visit.

He quietly turned the handle on the door and opened it a crack. Indeed, Samantha was busy going over reports and seemed a little worse for wear. Her auburn hair was undone and cascaded over her shoulder, glowing warmly in the single lamplight. A pair of reading glasses were perched precariously on the tip of her nose as she stooped over the papers, the image of intent concentration as she rested her chin in her right palm.

"Hi," John said simply and smiled at her as he let himself into the room. She looked up at him tiredly and asked what he was doing here. John lifted the plastic bag high for the woman to see. "I saw that your car was still here when I left not too long ago. I figured that you haven't had anything to eat yet so I picked something up and came back. I hope you don't mind an interruption for dinner and conversation."

Samantha looked at him a moment longer then at the stack of papers at the desk and sat back and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "No, some distraction would be most welcome at the moment."

"I thought as much," John said and walked forward.

"What did you get?"

"A couple of things from Allesio's."

"You know, I read up about that restaurant," Samantha stated. "It's supposed to have a waiting list three months long. Yet you go there nearly every week."

"Being good friends with the owner and his daughter help."

Samantha hmmphed and then breathed in the steamy aroma of her dinner as she opened one of the foil cartons. "If I could eat this for the rest of my life I'll die fat and happy."

"Nothing wrong with that."

Samantha forked into her pasta and gestured towards a wine storage unit by the wall with her free hand. John obeyed and perused her selection and randomly picked a bottle of white. When he returned Samantha had finished her first attack on her dinner and was now digging into her drawer for the wine opener. She handed it to John and sat back. "How goes your research?"

"Not bad," John answered off-handedly. "We're looking into a gene that may be responsible for a tumor's endless replicating ability. The data looks promising."

"I'm talking about your other research."

John popped the cork and held stalk still. His other research? How did she... ?

"Don't bother playing dumb with me," she said and tossed a file in front of him. John put aside the bottle and picked up the sheaf of papers. Listed was a schedule of all the people who ran blood tests. His name was on the list, highlighted in yellow. The following papers were copies of his results. "You don't do blood samples, John. Especially not of your own blood. So my guess is you're doing a little side project."

For a moment John was too stunned to give a proper response but quickly recovered from the initial shock. In the two second pause he allowed himself John's mind scrabbled frantically for a way out of this venue of conversation. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." What was he thinking? John looked again into those emerald green eyes and knew he was damned to be this woman's prey. His resolve to hold back collapsed as Samantha waited intently for what he would say next. "Would you be willing to leave it be if I said that I'm trying to cure myself."

"I take it you are referring to why you keep yourself covered at all times?" John nodded. "What would it take for me to hear the whole story?"

John thought about it as he poured Samantha and himself some wine. "You're absolute trust."

She mulled over his words. "Don't you mean my secrecy?"

"No, I mean your trust. I need you to believe in me."

"I don't trust others."

"At least not since college, I take it?" John saw the reflection of painful memories flit across her face.

"Yes."

"Then I suggest you think things over. Very thoroughly I might add. I need your trust in me, as a person." They stared at one another across the table, the single desk lamp giving the only soft, glowing illumination to the room.

"What exactly are you proposing to me?"

"A secret," John sighed. "A secret I am willing to entrust to you. Don't answer yet. I'll give you until tomorrow to think this through. Until then how about we spend a nice quiet dinner together?"

Dinner that evening was a pleasant success. Samantha knew better than to press the issue about John's secret, all would be revealed tomorrow. They chatted pleasantly and John even managed to get his boss to laugh when he talked about one of his amazing exploits at a nearby pond when he was seven. He honestly didn't think his mom would have been that upset about him collecting frogs at the nearby pond. And the bathtub was a good place to put them. Unfortunately he forget to tell her about them when she decided to shower.