To say that Cosima was bored would be an understatement. Two hours into her graveyard shift and so far she'd served only one customer. One. The encounter had been brief, only drunken mumbles escaping the intoxicated man's mouth, leaving no room for a coherent conversation.
Cosima had learned to expect boredom after working past midnight shifts for over a month at the 24/7 store, but usually she could talk with her co-worker Scott at times when the store was empty (nearly all of her five hour shift). However, like her he was a science student, so she had agreed to cover his till for him while he worked on his thesis in the back room, ready to return to his till if there was an unexpected rise in customers. Thus, she was left chained to her till, aimlessly swivelling around on her chair and casting hopeful glances at the clock on the far wall.
Cosima let out of a huff of annoyance as she saw only a minute had passed since she'd last checked the time, a small yawn pulling at her mouth as she was reminded of her early start of 6am the previous day and lack of sleep since. Just as she thought tedium would drive her insane, the smooth hiss of the automatic doors gliding open drew her attention.
A lone woman wandered into the establishment, and Cosima involuntarily drew in a breath as she saw the woman in full view. The customer was stunningly beautifully: with long legs clad in an elegant pair of black trousers, a body-hugging white blouse, and a perfectly fitting brown jacket, (not to mention bouncing blonde curls which Cosima wished to run her hands through). Transfixed, Cosima watched as the blonde picked up a basket and began to trundle it along the linoleum floor. A harsh squeak broke Cosima from her daze as the basket was pulled along the floor, one rebellious wheel screaming in protest at every movement. The woman blushed in embarrassment as the sound echoed through the store, making Cosima giggle like a child. At this, the abashed customer looked up and locked eyes with Cosima, causing a blush to creep up Cosima's neck and onto her face- mirroring the one the blonde was sporting.
Quickly, Cosima looked away from the woman's questioning gaze and mentally chided herself for her faux pas. Making sure to look everywhere but the woman- who's face was now branded in Cosima's mind- she studiously tried to ignore the blonde who was now browsing the various isles, ever-squeaking basket in tow. But, as hard as Cosima tried she couldn't help but sneak several glances at the woman between nervously tapping her right foot on the polished floor in anticipation of serving the captivating stranger.
Just as Cosima had played out the fifteenth version of how she would start a conversation with the woman, she abruptly dismissed her idea of using a Harry Potter pick-up line and instead rebuked herself for how juvenile she was being.
"She's just another customer," she unconvincingly whispered to herself, the memory of herself giggling like an infatuated teenager disputing her muttered statement and making her blush again in mortification. By this point Cosima was seriously considering running to the staff room and begging Scott to serve the woman so she wouldn't have to face her, but the sound of the noisy basket being wheeled toward her turned her twitching leg to lead and she suddenly found herself glued to her chair, unable to move.
The woman flashed her a polite smile as she began to unload her overflowing basket onto the conveyor belt, earning a beaming smile from Cosima. Unable to control her curiosity, Cosima asked the woman as casually as possible, "So what brings you here at," she shot a quick glance at the clock, "Two thirty on a Thursday morning?"
"Ah, I work very late you see," the woman dutifully replied, her French accent clear in her remark.
"Oh, erm" Cosima choked on her words, clearly flustered, her throat now dry after hearing the woman's intoxicating accent.
The side of the blonde's mouth quirked upward in amusement, prompting Cosima to shake her head to clear the dazing fog that was enveloping her thoughts.
Clearing her throat, Cosima began her statement again, "Not many jobs work you this late," she stated, "Well aside from this one," she amended with a nervous laugh.
The blonde gave a small smile as she nodded her head in agreement, "Non, they do not."
"So," Cosima inquired, eager to learn all she could about the French-woman, "What is it that you do that works you so late? Spy? Hitwoman?" She arched an eyebrow in a conspiratorially manor, making the woman chuckle in response.
"Non I'm afraid," she answered, "Just a scientist."
At this, Cosima broke out into an ear-to-ear grin, "No freaking way dude, I'm a scientist too!"
At this, the blonde scientist put down the groceries she was beginning to pack and turned her full attention to the ecstatic dreadlocked woman .
"Really, what area?" The French-woman asked interestedly, "I'm an immunologist myself."
"That's so cool," Cosima marvelled, "I study Evo-Devo, Evolutionary Development that is, which is why I'm working here at the minute" she waved her arms around her head, gesturing to the empty store, "To pay my tuition."
"I see'" the woman replied, "Where do you study?"
As the woman and Cosima excitedly chatted about their different fields and the university they found out they both attended at some point, the usually infuriatingly slow clock (in Cosima's opinion) whirred until forty-five minutes had easily passed by.
"Woah," Cosima breathed as she caught sight of the time, interrupting the blonde's comment on Cosima's Professor, Dr Leekie.
Turning so she could follow the brunette woman's gaze, the French-woman's eyed widened as she saw the source of her shock.
"Merde," she gasped, "I did not realise it had gotten so late."
The woman then returned to her long abandoned task of packing her groceries away, and reached into her purse to retrieve her money.
"Me neither," Cosima agreed, "But you know what they say, time flies when you're having fun right?"
"Oui," the woman nodded, handing a crisp $50 bill to Cosima, her pale fingers accidentally brushing Cosima's outstretched ones, causing a shiver to race up her spine.
With shaking hands, Cosima handed the French-woman her change, careful not to touch her hand so as not to ignite the fire that was burning where she had made contact with the blonde's skin.
"Merci..?"
"Cosima," the bespectacled woman supplied with a smile.
"Ah, merci Cosima," the blonde corrected, the sound of her name on the woman's lips making Cosima tremble.
Before Cosima could compose a reply, the woman had picked up her bags and was heading towards the door, an indecipherable look in her eyes as she wished Cosima a "bonne nuit," over her shoulder.
The blonde was nearly at the door before a startled yelp left Cosima's mouth, "Wait!"
"Oui," the woman asked, a small smirk playing at the corner of her mouth.
"I didn't get your name," Cosima explained, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Delphine," the woman answered, before placing her bags on the floor and walking over to the brunette and sliding a piece of paper to her over the till. "You didn't get my number either," she added with a small wink, once again picking up her bags and leaving Cosima breathless in her wake, a huge smile plastered on her usually composed features.