Chapter 1: Noticed
The moment she stepped off the plane, Cosima Niehaus knew without a doubt that she was finally rejoining the land of the living.
No more sterile, quiet exam rooms. No more cold hospital beds. No more knock, knock, knockin' on death's door, thank you very much.
The N'djili International Airport terminal teemed with energy. Hundreds of people buzzed around her. Snippets and strings of French, Kikongo, and other dialects mingled together in discordant harmony. It should have been overwhelming, but the young scientist reveled in it, soaking in all the noise and commotion.
Grinning, Cosima hitched her knapsack more securely on her right shoulder and allowed herself to get swept up in the crowd. As soon as she picked up her checked bags and made it through customs, her satellite phone vibrated in her pocket. She quickly pulled it out and sighed when she saw the caller's number.
"Miss me already?" Cosima smirked as she answered the call, pinning the phone between her shoulder and ear.
"Good, you made it," a silken female voice on the line answered, tinny and distant but still retaining an unmistakably posh British accent. She sounded almost… relieved. Almost. Far be it for corporate ice queen Rachel Duncan to show emotion.
"Aw, you were worried!" Cosima placed one hand to her chest, amused, while she wheeled her luggage toward the airport's exit.
A forceful exhale was the only response, and then, "You recall the itinerary, Dr. Niehaus." It was more of a demand than a question. Typical Rachel.
"Yeah, yeah, mom," Cosima rolled her eyes and began ticking off points on her fingers. "Meet up with Big Dick Paul. Rendezvous with the team at base camp. Collect data for diabolical DYAD experiments."
"You know that's not how we operate anymore," Rachel said coolly. "Also, I would prefer that you not refer to Paul by that name."
"If Sarah and Felix can call him that, why can't I?" Cosima asked as she spotted a statuesque man in a dark blue suit holding up a placard with her name. "Annnd… speak of the devil."
"Just… behave yourself, Cosima," Rachel said, dropping the formality, subtle concern back in her voice. "You've only just recovered…"
"Look, Rachel, I appreciate it," Cosima interrupted as she zigzagged around other travelers and moved toward her appointed guide. "I really do. But it's been more than a year and I'll only be away a few weeks. I'll be back in town corrupting you before you know it."
"Cosima-"
"Listen, I've gotta go. Why don't you meet up with Alison? You guys can go shopping or whatever. I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"
Cosima hung up the phone before Rachel could reply and jauntily waved at Paul to get his attention. The ex-military contractor turned monitor turned bodyguard immediately approached her.
"Dr. Niehaus," Paul greeted. A small smile appeared on his handsomely chiseled face as he relieved her of her luggage.
The scientist tilted her head at him and grinned. "Dude, come on. We're nowhere near DYAD. It's just Cosima, okay?"
"Right of course, just Cosima," he nodded once, leading her outside to a waiting cab. "You ready?"
"Totally."
The heavy, muggy heat of the Congolese wet season stuck to Cosima's skin and fogged up her dark-rimmed glasses. She could already feel moisture forming on the back of her neck underneath her dreadlocks. She put her dark hair up into a sloppy bun as Paul lifted her luggage in the trunk. The air was thick with exhaust fumes, but she breathed it in deeply nonetheless.
No more stale, sanitized air. No more artificially controlled temperatures. No more effing coughing.
"First time in Kinshasa?" Paul asked after he gave instructions to the driver and they settled in the back seat of the vehicle.
"First time anywhere, really." Cosima eagerly took in the bustling cityscape as the cab sped from the airport. "I know, such a loser, right?" She rolled her eyes. "But with school and...and everything." She shook her head. Not gonna think about that. "I just never found the time, you know?"
Cosima turned back toward her companion and flashed him another smile.
"Never too late," Paul said.
"Damn right."
The sun was setting by the time they arrived at the hotel, casting an orange hue on the tall building.
"We leave at 0500," Paul told her as they exited the cab.
"Got it." Cosima's phone vibrated in her pocket again. Fishing it out, she glanced apologetically at Paul. "I should probably take this."
Paul handed her a key card. "If you leave the premises, give me a call."
"Obvs." Off his skeptical expression-not unlike the looks Rachel and Alison would shoot her when they thought she, Sarah, Helena, or Tony were up to no good-Cosima brought her right hand up in a lazy military salute. "Sir, yes sir."
Paul shook his head and moved off to hand her luggage to a porter.
Cosima placed the phone to her ear, twirling on her heel toward the street. "Rachel, if I didn't know any better, I'd start to think you were a little obsessed with me."
"In your dreams, geek monkey," came a gruff drawl from someone who was most certainly not Rachel Duncan.
"Sarah?" Cosima double checked the number on the screen and grinned. "Why do you have Rachel's phone?"
"Nicked it from her, didn't I? 'Sides, how else were we supposed to call you, Cos? You left without a word!"
"Wait.. we?"
"You've got a lot of explaining to do, missy." A different, higher pitched voice came on the line, prim and clipped. "What the dickens are you doing in Africa?"
Cosima grimaced. "Alison."
"Honestly, Cosima. What if some headhunters kidnap you and lock you up in a, in a, in a lion cage somewhere," Alison's voice got shriller with each word, "and we never saw you again?"
"That's… oddly... touching." Cosima pinched the bridge of her nose, knuckles pushing her dark-rimmed frames up toward her forehead. And totally offensive, but totally Alison. She couldn't help but smile. "I was gonna tell you guys, but it's such a short trip. I didn't want you to worry." More than you already have.
"We're always gonna worry about you, Cos. Period. End of, yeah?" Sarah cut in.
Warmth blossomed in Cosima's chest. "I know. And I appreciate it, really. But I'll be fine. Rachel sicced BDP on me so, yeah, an ocean away and I still have a monitor up my ass. Besides, if anything happens, you and Helena can just come rescue me."
"Seriously? Paul's there? I wonder what he did to piss off Rachel and get stuck babysitting you…"
The rest of Sarah's response faded into oblivion as Cosima twirled back around toward the hotel and froze, the wind knocked right out of her—and, for once, in a not bad way.
Standing by the entrance was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman Cosima had ever seen in all three decades of her life. Cosima's gaze slid over the beautiful stranger: haphazardly tousled blonde hair that just barely kissed her shoulders, lithe torso, long legs. She was clad simply in hip-hugging black jeans and a white blouse, the black straps of her bra faintly visible against the light fabric.
The brunette watched the woman bring a cigarette to her lips, black nail polish contrasting sharply against pale skin, lighting it with a small silver zippo. Wisps of white curled around a heart-shaped faced scrubbed free of makeup. As if sensing Cosima's stare, the blonde locked eyes with the scientist, and Cosima swore her heart stilled at the piercing sight of haunted hazel.
The woman paused ever so slightly-her own eyes slowly taking in Cosima's petite frame-before she took a long drag, held it for a few seconds, and blew out a long stream of smoke.
The movement was enough to snap Cosima back to reality and turn quickly away, face burning. It was only then that she realized Sarah was still talking.
"Cos? Oi, you listenin' or what?"
"Uh yeah." Her voice sounded rough. She cleared her throat.
"What'd I just say then, nerdbutt?"
"Um…" Cosima couldn't help glancing over her shoulder, hoping to catch another glance of the blonde. But she was already gone, walking off alongside two other women and a man who placed his hand on the small of her back.
Disappointment sinking in her gut, Cosima sighed and turned her attention back to the phone conversation. "I'm sorry. I have no freakin' clue. What were you saying?"
After another 30 odd minutes of haranguing from her would-be sisters (mostly Alison), Cosima finally got them off the line so she could check out her hotel room. The small space was sparsely furnished, but it was air-conditioned, comfortable, and—Score!—had a well-stocked minibar.
Cosima wasted little time unpacking only the clothes she would need for the evening and tomorrow's journey with Paul to the Congo rainforest. A quick shower and a room-service dinner later, the scientist found herself lying atop the bed, the darkened room illuminated only by the dim city lights filtering through the sheer curtains. Despite the 18-hour flight, she wasn't the least bit tired.
She was just too wired. About a zillion and one jumbled thoughts raced through her head-a good number about the research expedition and her family and friends back home. But the vast majority centered on the mystery girl with the sad hazel eyes.
Who was she? Where was she from? Would she ever see her again? Why did she seem so unbearably… burdened? What made her smile, laugh? What would she look like naked, tangled among bed sheets and Cosima's limbs? Breathtaking, Cosima was sure of it.
The scientist groaned and sat up, glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table. 10:42 p.m. In less than six hours, she'd have to be up and at 'em again. What she needed, Cosima decided, was a little something to mellow her out. She jumped out of bed and began rummaging in her luggage for a small lighter and, more importantly, the joint she had carefully smuggled onto the flight and through customs. The brunette had meant to save it, and the others (Rachel and Alison) would probably kill her if they ever found out she smoked it, but…
Desperate times and all.
Not daring to light up in her room, even with the window open, Cosima slipped on a pair of sneakers and quietly made her way to the floor's stairwell, climbing up and up until she reached the rooftop.
Cosima paused for a few seconds to let her eyes adjust to the darkness, thankful for at least the silver glow of the moon reflecting off the cloudy sky. The evening air was warm, but not unbearably so. She pulled off her fogging glasses, wiping them with the hem of her black camisole, and made her way past several humming HVAC towers to the roof's raised edge.
The scientist settled the frames back on her face and let out a low whistle as she peeked over the side at the 20-story drop. Grinning, she rocked back on her heels and took in the twinkling lights along Kinshasa's velvet horizon.
Just as she was about to pull out her little treat, a soft, feminine voice drifted out of nowhere.
"Bonsoir."
"Jesus!" Cosima whirled around, hand flying to her chest, heart pounding.
"Desolée. Je ne voulais pas vous surprendre."
Cosima squinted her eyes and barely made out the figure of a woman leaning against one of the cooling units and smoking a cigarette. Her heart rate skyrocketed.
Holy.
Shit.
It's her.
The girl from earlier with the cascading blonde waves and the melancholy eyes. She looked tired, but still ridiculously gorgeous.
"I'm so, so sorry," Cosima managed to force words out of her now parched mouth, which she was sure had been hanging open, as attractive as a dead fish. "I didn't know anyone would be up here." Her hands fluttered apologetically through the air. "I mean. Shit. Um… Je suis, um, desolée."
Cosima cringed as she mangled the French words with her American accent. She mentally kicked herself. Should've taken Rachel's tutoring more seriously. "Uh.. Je ne savais pas… um... que quiconque ici."
She didn't even know if she was saying the right words. Heat spread across her cheeks as the women regarded her with slightly upturned lips.
"Ce n'est pas grave." The blonde waved her hand dismissively.
"Ah cool, right." Cosima nodded. "I'll just uh…" she motioned awkwardly to the side. "Yeah."
The brunette groaned internally. It wasn't like her to be this painfully awkward around pretty girls. Who am I, Scott!? But this girl… Christ, get it together, Cos. She could practically hear Sarah's exasperated drawl as she tried to calm her racing heart.
Cosima perched herself atop the rooftop edge and managed to pull out the joint and lighter despite the residual trembling in her fingers. She paused, glancing at the blonde. "Sorry, do you mind if I…?"
The woman shook her head slightly, and Cosima let out a small sigh of relief. She held the joint lightly between her lips and flicked the lighter. A quick spark. But nothing. She shook the lighter and tried again. And again. And yet again. Still nothing. Fuck.
"Need a light?"
Cosima's head shot up at the gentle lilt of French-accented English. The other woman held up her silver zippo.
"Yeah, thanks. I mean, oui. Merci."
The edges of the blonde's eyes crinkled. She stubbed out her own cigarette and closed the distance between them, taking her time (Cosima forced herself not to stare at the sway of her hips), until she was standing in front of the scientist. Instead of handing her the zippo, the blonde flicked it to life herself, holding out the flame for Cosima.
"You're American," she said.
"That obvious, huh?" Cosima shot her a self-depreciating smile, thankful she didn't have to butcher the French language any longer. She leaned her head forward to light the joint, pointedly ignoring the proximity of the other woman's hands to her face or how the flame cast a soft glow on the blonde's oh-so-pretty features.
Returning upright, Cosima attempted a long, deep hit. But it'd been forever since the last time she had lit up-more than a year at least-and she ended up choking and hacking for her effort. She vaguely heard the blonde ask if she was okay over her coughs.
The scientist nodded, eyes watering from exertion and mild humiliation. "Oh man," she finally managed after a few seconds.
"You smoke that almost as well as you speak French," the blonde quipped.
Cosima let out a small laugh as she cleared her throat one more time. "You making fun of me?" She was already starting to feel more comfortable in the stranger's presence. "Why don't you show me how it's done, then?"
She held out the joint. The blonde bit her bottom lip and, after only a moment's hesitation, accepted Cosima's offering and brought it to her mouth. The scientist tried her best not to openly gape as the woman sharply inhaled tendrils of smoke with a smack of her lips, held the breath for several long beats and blew it cleanly out the side of her mouth. She raised one eyebrow as she handed the joint back to Cosima.
Well fuck. That was quite possibly the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She swallowed hard. "You got a name there, expert toker?"
"Delphine."
"Cosima."
"Enchantée."
"Ah. Nice to meet you too."
Cosima waved a hand toward an empty spot next to her on the ledge, and smiled when Delphine took the invitation and sat down. The scientist took a cleaner hit this time, managing not to cough despite the lingering burn in her throat and chest. They proceeded to pass the joint back and forth between them.
"I've seen you before," Delphine said.
"Oh?" Cosima feigned ignorance. She remembers me. Her stomach flipped.
"Yes." She studied Cosima's features. "You were outside the hotel earlier this evening."
"I might...vaguely recall seeing you too, yeah." That is, you're nearly all I've been thinking about tonight. Cosima hoped Delphine didn't think she was some kind of creeper who had been staring at her.
"Did you just arrive?"
Cosima nodded.
"Business or pleasure?"
"Definitely business," Cosima answered. Perhaps the pot already was going to her head and stripping her inhibitions, but she couldn't stop herself from adding, "But maybe a bit of pleasure too. Ask me again in the morning."
Eyes widening ever so slightly, Delphine shook her head and chuckled. Cosima decided right then and there that she loved that sound. Craved to hear it again.
"Please tell me that line doesn't actually work on anyone," the blonde said, head tilted slightly to the side.
Cosima grinned, any previous nervousness dissipating with each hit and being replaced by a fuzzy and carefree weightlessness. "First time for everything." She winked at Delphine.
"You are quite sure of yourself," Delphine said, "for someone in pajamas." The blonde looked pointedly at her attire.
"Ahhh well shit," Cosima blushed as she glanced down at her baggy red bottoms and black cami. She'd forgotten about that. "My secret weapon. Makes all the girls swoon."
"Mmm, be still my heart." Delphine said drily, but good naturedly. Another hit. "So what brings you to DRC?
Funny you should ask. I'm actually part of an illegal human cloning trial that nearly made me cough up my lungs, but then I got better. And I just needed to get away for a while. One of my clones owed me, so she pulled some strings, and here I am! Said no one to the prettiest girl on the planet, Cosima thought.
Off Delphine's slack-jawed expression, Cosima's brow furrowed. Oh fuck me. Did I say that out loud?
But before she could backtrack, the blonde burst out into laughter. It was quite possibly the best thing the scientist had ever heard in her life.
Cosima watched as Delphine's face lit up for the first time and her heart twinged. The scientist was so pleased, more than she had any right to be, that she had (inadvertently) caused such (drug induced) merriment in the other woman; that she had dispelled, if only momentarily, whatever had been weighing her down.
"You." Delphine wiped tears from the edges of her eyes. "You are so… I don't even know how to describe you."
"Irresistibly charming?" Cosima offered with a grin.
"I was thinking more along the lines of...strange."
Ouch. Cosima barely suppressed the urge the wince, but couldn't stop the blush staining her cheeks.
"But," Delphine continued. "I like that. You're very...imaginative." She shook her head. "If you can't talk about your work, you can just say so. I didn't mean to be so forward."
"No, no, I can," Cosima interjected, offering up gratitude to the universe that Delphine had thought she was joking. "I'm studying frogs."
"Frogs?" Delphine shot her a skeptical look despite her lingering giggles. "Come on. You're pulling my… what is it? Arm?"
"Ah, leg. And yes, frogs! African dwarf frogs and their regenerative properties, actually." That was all true. Cosima made a conscious effort to bite her tongue, lest she word vomit all of DYAD's interests in regrowing limbs or, say, regenerating stem cells. "I'm here to meet up with a research team in the rainforest for the next two months."
"You're a scientist." Something sparked underneath Delphine's long lashes.
"Yup, evolutionary developmental biology." Cosima stretched her arms upward and laced her fingers behind her head, arching her back. "Not all that exciting, I guess." She dropped her arms back down to her sides.
"I think it is," Delphine said, sincerely. "I studied microbiology at university. I thought about pursuing a PhD in immunology, but med school won out in the end."
Oh jeez, hot and smart. Cosima was about ready to swoon. "So you're a doctor?"
Not just any doctor, but one with Medicins Sans Frontieres. Hot, smart and altruistic. Could this girl be any more perfect?
Over the course of the next hour, Cosima learned that Dr. Delphine Cormier was on leave in the capital for the next two days before she kicked off the last three months of her 9-month assignment in one of the northern provinces.
She also found that she could add humble to the list of traits of her new found crush, as Delphine downplayed her work in the DRC and was especially reticent about discussing her previous tours of duty. Cosima at least discovered that Delphine first experienced field work in the West Bank, living in Jerusalem and commuting to Ramallah. She wanted to know more, but a pained shadow etched across Delphine's delicate features. The doctor's hand reached up to rub a spot on the right side of her chest, and she changed the subject.
Sometime past midnight, the marijuana long gone, Cosima flippantly invited Delphine for a drink in her room, knowing full well Paul would be booting her ass out of bed in a few short hours. She just couldn't bring herself to say goodbye, not knowing if they would ever see each other again. Cosima hadn't expected Delphine to accept. But to her pleasant surprise, the doctor agreed.
And that was how Cosima found herself sitting atop her bed at nearly 1 a.m. with the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, swigging tiny bottles of vodka raided from the room's minibar.
With the alcohol's aid, Cosima managed to cull a few more tidbits about Delphine—she was born in Paris but moved with her mom to Quebec during high school after her parents' divorce. Her hobbies included yoga and percussion ("I'm as good as Ringo Starr!"). And her guilty pleasures were hamburgers and '90s sitcoms (she apparently could still rap the opening theme of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air).
In return, Cosima regaled Delphine with anecdotes about her own childhood in San Francisco (like the one time she drove her parents' sedan into their shed in a physics experiment gone horribly awry… at the age of 6), Eskimo pies ("I'm a craven addict."), and her "sisters" in Toronto (this time, without mentioning the "c-word.")
They were both leaning back against the headboard, their laughter dying down, when Delphine, face delightfully flushed, twisted her body to face Cosima.
"You know I've never done this before," she said softly, her hazel eyes now glassy and dark.
"What?" The brunette was nicely buzzed, and she knew it wasn't all due to the vodka.
"This." Delphine motioned between them, but didn't further elaborate.
"No?"
Delphine shook her head.
"Well that makes two of us," Cosima quietly admitted, holding Delphine's gaze until it began to feel a little too intense. She broke the eye contact and downed the rest of her drink. "Guess we can both cross it off our bucket lists."
"Bucket list?" The blonde furrowed her brow. "What is that?"
"Oh, uh, it's a list of things you want to do before you, you know, kick the bucket." Off Delphine's confused expression, she added, "Er, bite it?"
"Bite what?"
"The dust."
"Why would you do that? It's unsanitary."
Cosima chuckled. "Nevermind. It just means things you want to do before you die."
"But what does kicking a bucket have to do with it?"
The scientist laughed. "Your guess is as good as mine, man."
Delphine nodded and was quiet for a beat before she said, "So this was on your… your bucket list?"
"Not specifically, no." Cosima shrugged, meeting the blonde's eyes. Her mouth felt dry. "But, can't say I'm against traveling to a new continent, getting high with a beautiful woman, and luring her into bed at least once in my life."
The doctor remained still, studying Cosima's face. "I suppose it has a... certain appeal," she finally replied.
The brunette began to feel self-conscious and was about to crack a joke when Delphine suddenly reached out and took her hand. The contact nearly caused Cosima to jump right out of her skin.
"I can't even remember the last time I enjoyed myself this much," Delphine said, her voice low. "Thank you."
Cosima tried to swallow the lump that suddenly formed in her throat. "Yeah, ditto."
Delphine had yet to release her hand, and Cosima couldn't focus on anything but the warmth of the blonde's palm, the softness of her long, delicate fingers as they brushed lightly across her knuckles.
The air in the room became charged and heavy, silent save for the sound of the blood rushing through Cosima's ears. She vaguely wondered if Delphine could hear her heart, given the way it hammered against her ribs. The mattress dipped slightly as Delphine inched closer...or was it Cosima? The brunette wasn't sure. Delphine smelled like lilacs and smoke, sweet and mellow. Her gaze dropped to Delphine's lips and she unconsciously licked her own. The scientist could feel the warmth of Delphine's breath. She closed her eyes, leaned in…
And was met by the shrill ring of a cell phone and empty space as Delphine jolted away.
"Merde."
Disoriented, Cosima's eyes snapped open. Delphine had swung her legs off the side of the bed. She wriggled her phone from her pocket and answered it.
"Allo? Oui, ça va."
Cosima leaned back against the headboard with a sigh, trying her best to translate the one-sided conversation. Although she could pick out one or two words here and there, Delphine spoke much too quickly for her to follow completely.
"Je suis a l'hôtel. Oui." Delphine glanced over her shoulder at Cosima. "J'ai pris un verre avec quelqu'un et je n'ai pas vu le temps passé."
The scientist felt the blonde's eyes on her and she offered her a small smile.
"Je serai bientôt de retour. Oui. À tout de suite."
She hung up the phone, slipped it back in her pocket, and gave Cosima an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry. I've been rooming with one of the other volunteers and I think she was worried I might have gotten myself kidnapped."
"No worries." Cosima waved it off. She wanted to pick up where they left off, but the phone call had dispelled the heady tension between them. Only an awkward silence remained.
"I should probably go." Delphine cleared her throat and stood up, teetering slightly from the alcohol. She turned back toward Cosima and slid her hands into the back pockets of her black jeans.
No, please stay, Cosima's heart wanted to beg, pitifully, but her mind forced her mouth to say instead, "Yeah, it's super late." Her hands twirled with nervous energy. "I've gotta get up in a few hours too."
She got up and the room swayed, like she was on the deck of a rocking boat, but she still managed to walk Delphine to the door. Cosima wondered what the proper etiquette would be in this strange situation. Should she ask for her number? Should she give Delphine hers? Could she ask to see her again? Would that even be possible?
But before her internal debate continued to rage much longer, Delphine quietly asked, "Do you have anything to write with?"
"Oh, uh, maybe on the desk?"
Delphine nodded and made her way over to the tabletop. She found a pen and a small pad of paper in one of the drawers. Bending down, the blonde quickly scribbled two strings of numbers on the sheet. She straightened back up, glancing shyly at Cosima.
"Cell phones don't really work well outside of the cities, but I have a satellite phone." Delphine bit her lip. "If you ever want to talk…"
"Of course!" Cosima nearly grimaced at her overly enthusiastic response.
Delphine smiled, looking relieved. She walked back to the door and stood in front of Cosima.
"How do you say, 'until next time,' in French?" The scientist asked suddenly.
"À la prochaine."
"Okay, then, à la prochaine." Cosima's French accent fared no better after a joint and vodka, but Delphine chuckled affectionately nonetheless.
She reached for the door knob, paused, and then swiftly turned around again, pressing a quick kiss on both of Cosima's cheeks before the scientist could even think to react.
"Ciao," Delphine breathed out one last time before slipping out.
"Bye. Ciao." Cosima belatedly replied at the closed door, cheeks still tingling from the memory of Delphine's soft lips. "Oh man."
The scientist flopped backward on the bed, staring up at the spinning ceiling with what she was sure was the dopiest grin. But she didn't care. She had just met the most beautiful girl ever, and she had never felt more alive.
A/N: Story and chapter titles taken from Mute Math songs/lyrics. Thanks to Leslie17 for the French tips/suggestions!
