Molly never could say what made her want to see the patient in person. Her colleagues told her to just request that a blood sample be sent to her, but she insisted on meeting him.

What she had been told by the authorities at the compound and the reality she found when she first arrived there were very different. The patient, Khan Noonien Singh, was not "free to come and go as he pleased." He was not treated with "utmost respect."

And he was not, by any means, "happy."

That was obvious as soon as she walked into the exam room. The man she had seen only in pictures was leaning against one wall, head bent, legs crossed at the ankles and arms crossed in front of his chest. With his closed-off body language, his all-black clothing, and the scowl marring his handsome features, he was like a thundercloud personified.

Molly decided to fight clouds with sunshine. She smiled at him brightly. "Good morning, Khan. I'm Dr. Molly Hooper. Is it alright if I call you Khan?"

He raised his head and pierced her with his blue-green gaze. Molly suppressed a shudder at the cold she saw in his eyes.

"You may call me whatever you wish," he said dispassionately, "it matters not."

"It matters to me." She forced herself to smile again. "How is your morning going?"

For a moment, Khan looked at her like she had gone mad. Finally, he just shook his head a bit. "Fine," he muttered.

"Good. I don't know if they told you, but I'm an oncologist. I've heard about your incredible resistance to diseases and I think there might be something in your immune system that can help me find a cure for cancer."

He didn't look particularly impressed. "You're welcome to try, I suppose."

He's like a steel beam – strong, unbending, cold. "Do you mind if I take a blood sample?"

Khan stared at her and for a moment, she wondered if she'd offended him somehow. He moved away from the wall and approached her slowly and Molly couldn't help feeling intimidated by his imposing presence. The exam room was small and he seemed to fill it.

Khan raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to ask for permission for everything you take?"

"I … um … yes?"

"Then you may take whatever you need, Dr. Hooper." He sat down on the exam table and rolled up his sleeve.

Molly took a steadying breath then swabbed his arm with alcohol. "It's a beautiful day. Have you been outside yet today?" When Khan didn't say anything, she continued as she drew blood. "Rain's expected for tomorrow, though. I love curling up with a good book when it rains. I've been reading a murder mystery set in Ancient Rome. It's very good. When I'm done with it, you can borrow it if you want."

Again, there was no response from Khan. She finished drawing his blood and was about to tape a piece of gauze to the small wound when she saw that it had already closed. Molly looked up at him questioningly.

Khan looked back at her with an air of utter boredom. "Is there anything else you need?"

"No, not now."

He stood up and rolled down his sleeve. "I imagine you'll want more samples. They always want more samples."

"If I don't get conclusive answers from this one, then yes, I would. Is that alright?"

"I am in no position to refuse."

"Yes, you are," she said firmly. "With me, you are."

He stared at her for a heartbeat, then nodded.

She gave him her brightest smile. "Thank you."

Khan blinked in surprise. "You're welcome."

In the end, the first sample gave her some answers but not nearly enough. And of course, she also hadn't seen enough of the enigmatic man himself.

I don't fancy him, she thought as she walked down the hall to the exam room a week later. I'm not a teenager anymore. He fascinates me, medically speaking. That's all.

Khan was already seated on the exam table and was rolling up his sleeve when she came in.

She smiled at him happily. "Good morning, Khan."

"Dr. Hooper." He was being civil, at least.

"How is your morning going?"

Again, he looked at her like she was mad. "Fine."

"Good." She started the steps for drawing blood. "It's raining today. Sheets and sheets, really. I'll curl up with my book when I get home. I started a new one. Well, new to me. It's Jane Austen's Emma. I can't believe I'd never read it before." The needle slid into his arm. "You never even flinch. It doesn't hurt?"

"No."

"Well, that's good, I guess, considering how many times you must get poked." Molly continued to talk about the novel as his blood flowed. When she pulled the needle out, she shook her head a bit, smiling, as she saw the wound close. "You really are remarkable, Khan Noonien Singh."

He watched her for a moment. "As are you."

She didn't want to think about how good those simple words made her feel.