So, this story just would not get out of my head, so I wrote it. I'm having a ton of fun with it, and I hope you all like it, too! Let me know.

"Cosima! Hey!" Scott was sort of a strange-looking dude, to be sure, but Cosima had always had a strange liking for him. He was goofy, not annoying and pretentious like all the other boys in the school. And his take on artwork was good. He got things the other art majors just didn't. He had almost as little patience as she for these things, actually, and he was a nice person to be able to roll eyes with.

But now was really not the time. Because right now, there was a beautiful girl staring at her painting, fascinated, lips hanging open.

"Just, wow." The girl twirled some split ends thoughtlessly around her pointer finger. "I can't believe you painted this." She glanced up at Cosima, smiling. "It really captures..." She leaned back, stroking at her cheek. "It really captures, like, the whole existential question, you know? Like, 'who am I? What am I all about?'"

Sure. Why not?

"Totally. That's exactly what I was going for." Cosima nodded, her crush on the girl fading just a little. But not enough to not sleep with her. For experience. For art. She took a step closer, partly to speed along the process and partly to block the girl's view of her artist's statement. The woman—damn, what had she said her name was?—turned to face Cosima more fully, cautiously running a hand along her dreadlocks. She leaned forward, lips hesitating, teasing achingly close to Cosima's for just a second.

And that's when Scott had decided yelling her name out was a good idea, and Cosima had twitched, dragged harshly from the tension of the moment. Fucking Scott.

The girl pulled away, blushing, looking down at her feet. "Whoa. I'm sorry, I-I totally shouldn't have jumped to conclusions."

"No, no, no." Cosima practically jumped forward, grasping her upper arms and shaking her head to assure her. "No. Don't be sorry, I definitely was into that, I just heard someone call my name and-" She was almost glad this time when Scott cut off her rambling, placing his hand on her shoulder to grab her attention.

"Cosima. Hey." His goofiest grin was on his face, all teeth and glasses, and thin, lopsided lips. She reminded herself that one day, he'd probably be rich doing his graphic design shit for some major marketing firm, and she'd probably need him to fund another one of her projects. Fuck. Trying to make it as an artist without selling out to corporations was tough, man. "I have someone I want you to meet." He stepped to the side to show he'd brought along company.

She recognized him right away. Aldous Leekie. Curator of the Museum of Modern Art in New York. He struck an elegant figure, one of classic New York bohemia: Tall, with severe features and a bald head. A suit culled and blocked as elegantly and seamlessly as his collection at the museum.

"Holy shit." Her jaw dropped, and for once, she was utterly at a loss for words. Her brain had skidded to a sudden stop, the needle skipping over the same spot over and over again Leekie, Leekie, Leekie, this guy could make or break something, you idiot! And just like that, it jumped back into motion. "I mean, nice to meet you, sir. I'm Cosima." Last name. You're not desperate enough to do the one name thing yet, are you? "Niehaus. Cosima Niehaus." He took her hand, and smiled.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Niehaus. I'm Aldous Leekie." He smiles, motioning to the painting next to her. "Is this your painting?"

"Yes! Yep. It absolutely is." She stuttered, her face suddenly burning bright red, obvious even underneath the olive skin that usually was able to block out a faint flushing of her cheeks.

"Hmm." Aldous moved to face it fully, taking it in, and the woman who had been standing quietly at his side, moved around to join him, leaning against his arm as they both studied it. How had Cosima not noticed her before? She's... "Whenever I do college visits, I ask the school to give me a student to be my chaperone for the duration, and they gave me Scott here." He raised his arm not occupied by the woman to Scott's shoulder, and the boy tittered nervously, "and he told me you're his absolute favorite student artist on campus." Aldous turned to watch Cosima's reaction.

"Wow. Thanks, Scott. That means a lot." He blushed and looked down at the floor, literally scuffing the floor with the toe of his shoe. She half expected him to huff out a "golly, thanks." but he simply muttered out a near-unintelligible. "No problem."

Aldous smiled at the two of them briefly before continuing. "I see why he feels so strongly about your work. What materials did you use for this?"

"Oh. Um," Cosima was back in Professional Artist mode, clicking easily back into the practiced explanation of her methodology. "Aside from art, my passion is actually biology. I got really interested in Evolutionary Development and actually thought I'd go to school for it for a while." Aldous let out an interested hum, still studying the painting and clearly waiting for the information he'd actually asked for. The woman next to him, however, was watching her, smooth and cool as ice, with her full attention. "Anyway, I brought the things I learned in the laboratory to my art. So, my materials are actually chemicals you could find in any high school science lab. What you're looking at is actually essentially a series of chemical reactions expressed on canvas."

"That's highly experimental of you, Cosima." Aldous turned his full attention to her now. "And you certainly have some interesting colors and patterns happening. I like," he reached forward, hand lingering a safe distance from the canvas, tracing the shapes in the air, "the way this shape here seems part human, part mushroom cloud."

"Thank you."

"But I have to wonder—what did you want to say with this? I mean, really? It's a cool concept, but to be a good artist, you need more than a gimmick." Aldous was watching her with a sly smile, clearly attempting to catch her, as though she weren't as smart as she seemed, and the woman next to him cocked her head to the side just the tiniest bit, bringing her glass of wine to her lips.

"Of course." Cosima brought a hand up, crossing her right arm over her chest to rub the tension out of her left shoulder, pondering the right way to answer the question without sounding like an idiot, or worse—one of her peers, all big words and Nietzche quotes and art history without any substance. "I'm glad you noticed the mushroom cloud and the human form, because that was a big part of what I was going for. I guess I wanted to explore the Cartesian duality in society, and also in myself. Like, I'm a scientist on the one hand, and an artist on the other. In science, things like passion, emotion, even sex are seen as a series of chemical reactions. Everything we do, everything we are, is a series of neurotransmitters and receptors. But as an artist, I see the world in broad strokes of color. The what is far more important than the why or how. And all of those things are these beautiful expressions of humanity. One approach strips the soul away completely, and the other romanticizes it." She paused, stroking her chin. "And I guess I'm not sure where I fall on that spectrum, or what I believe about it. I don't know if I can privilege the mechanism over the actual experience, or vise versa. You know?"

"C'est belle." This was the first time Leekie's escort had spoken, and it had been in the most perfect accent, quiet and somewhat wonderstruck. She was a dreamer, an art lover for sure, but definitely not an artist herself. "Pardon, I meant to say that in English, but I forgot for a second. The painting is beautiful." Though, Cosima noted, she hadn't looked at the painting since Cosima had started speaking.

"Thank you, Ms..." She trailed off, holding her hand out.

"Cormier. But please, call me Delphine." Her French accent was more pronounced now, subtle ways her tongue flicked in her mouth just slightly differently than others; odd inflections that made Cosima wonder what that tongue would feel like flicking against her neck instead.

Fuck. Leekie's girlfriend, Cosima. Definitely off-limits. Don't fuck this up.

Delphine grasped her hand, their skin sliding against one another and making Cosima uncomfortably happy in a way a handshake and eye contact never should be able to.

"Enchante." Cosima was trying to be smooth, using one of the few French words she'd picked up in her life. Damn, why had she studied Latin in high school? Right. Science nerd. Duh.

Delphine chuckled, throaty and low. "Yes. Moi aussi."

Scott cleared his throat, once again tugging Cosima out of a lust-induced stupor and flicked his eyes toward Aldous, who was back to studying the painting. He raised his eyebrows urgingly. Hell, she could practically hear his voice in her head. Dude, what are you doing? This guy is major. She dropped her hand back to her side, finally releasing Delphine's.

"And what do you think, Mr. Leekie?" He glanced back up at her, smiling widely.

"I absolutely love it, Cosima. In fact," He reached into the pocket of his suit coat and pulled out a small card, glanced at it, then put it back and fished out a different one. "I'd like you to keep in touch with me. I may have some opportunities this summer you'd be interested in. You'll be graduating in June, right?" After making sure it was the correct one, he held it out to her.

She nodded. "Yeah. Wow." She took the card, and turned it over in her hand. This was a personal card. It had his name, but no title, and that email? Definitely not the MoMA's. "Thank you so much, Mr. Leekie, thats incredible."

"That's my cell phone number, so please be sure it stays between us, okay?" He reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I'll see you around." He turned and started to walk away, with Scott scuttling after him.

Cosima let out a harsh breath, glancing down at the card again. How the fuck did that just happen? She glanced up, wanting to be sure it was real, that she wasn't imagining things. And there he was, standing in front of a different piece of work, studying it with attention. Scott was stammering on about something, and Delphine... Delphine was looking straight at her. Their eyes connected, and Cosima's breath hitched. And just like that, Delphine's attention was back to the painting.

This has to be a fucking dream.

"Wow, Cosima. That was so incredible!" Right. Existentialism girl.

Cosima turned back to her and smiled, shrugging. "Yeah. Wow." At least she wouldn't be going home along tonight.