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(2255)
Madison watched them across the lab, witnessing their furtive touches—fingers lingering as they exchanged papers—and felt her own grip tighten around her pen. James, handsome and usually so well-composed, leaned over to say something in a low tone, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. And in her crystalline voice, Catherine laughed loud enough to draw the amused stares of the other Project Purity scientists.
Just another typical day at the Jefferson Memorial.
The couple then separated, urged to productivity by Catherine as she gave James's shoulder a playful shove and told him to get back to work at his own desk. She still grinned as she said so, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her dark skin tone. He complied, but not before shooting her a wink and a roguish smile. Even from a great distance away at the other end of the floor, Madison saw how they wore their hearts on their sleeves.
She fought down the familiar bitterness that crept up her throat, squashed the recurring jealousy by forcing herself to concentrate on her research.
x-x-x-x-x
"We're ready to begin development on the primary filtration system," James announced, gesturing to the hand-drawn charts mounted on the board next to him. "The Brotherhood has agreed to allocate some of their reserve materials to us, and we should be able to start construction within the week."
Madison sighed in relief, mumbling a terse, "Thank God," for their breakthrough progress while the other team members cheered and clapped. She peered around the meeting room and spotted Catherine beaming from the other side of the long table. Wisps of curly black hair had escaped her ponytail, and Madison couldn't help staring as James finished up his briefing.
Pride glowed there, clear even from her side profile. Catherine's emotions and thoughts, no matter the content, always rose to the surface, entwined as a tangible lattice. It comprised everything she was, showing the world her character with an openness not many others could replicate. Madison found it implausible, enviable… but most of all, admirable.
Suddenly, Catherine turned her head, bringing the two women's lines of sight together. Madison tore hers away before she could read the other's face. Her vision burned into the notes in front of her, and she felt her pulse race with trepidation.
"So, how does drinks tonight for the whole team sound?" James asked over the festive commotion, looking pleased as he rolled up his charts. "There is plenty of work ahead, but for now, I'd say we deserve to celebrate."
Madison stiffened when his gaze fell on her. He offered her a smile, but she only gave him a curt nod and gathered her papers. Without glancing at either him or Catherine again, she stood and made her quiet exit from the room.
x-x-x-x-x
A knock sounded on her bedroom door.
She exhaled in annoyance and closed the pre-War novel she had been leafing through but not reading for two hours straight. Using her legs to push her chair from her desk, she swiveled around, staying seated, and called for the visitor to come in.
The door slid open, revealing James and his crooked grin.
"Good evening, Madison," he greeted, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat as he stepped inside.
"Yes?" she returned, the single brusque word a telling indication of her feelings on his intrusion.
He shut the door behind him and ventured farther inside. "Not in the mood for a glass of wine with everyone else? We found a bottle from 2068. It's terrible, but as they say: the more you drink, the better it tastes."
Madison ignored his lighthearted chuckle and crossed her arms when he came to stand over her. "Where's Catherine?"
"Inebriated."
"Of course." She shook her head. That woman will get tipsy just from taking a whiff of alcohol.
James hovered in place for a few awkward seconds. He seemed uncertain and troubled, two details that did not interest Madison. Once he found his voice again, a heavy sigh accompanied his words.
"I want to apologize. About Catherine," he began, running his fingers through the short waves of his light brown hair. "I did not mean to… that is, I know how you must—"
"I understand," she said, and she did. She herself had experienced how complex and fickle matters of the heart could be. For that, she did not fault them.
"That's the part that makes it worse," James told her, eyes downcast. "Your understanding is appreciated, but we know you probably suffer for it."
Madison drummed her fingernails on her arm. So you two are 'we' now? That was quick.
"Things just happened so fast, and the three of us never had a chance to sit down and talk it over," James declared, now studying her expression. "But would you like to discuss it? I know Catherine has been wanting to…"
"No." Short and to the point, but the refusal contained no malice. "She and I already had a talk when it started. How I feel about it is my own problem, and it won't interfere with my work or my professional relationship with either of you. You two deserve to be happy."
"You're still a friend to us, Madison. I'd really rather clear the air between us."
Too drained for a prolonged argument, she sent him a tired look. "I work through my hang-ups better on my own. I'm already aware this is on me. And I know you mean well, but if you want to do something for me, give me my space. Please."
James regarded her in silence, the sadness and exasperation mingling across his countenance. She waited for him to accept it, just as she had accepted his new relationship with Catherine. She did not have to wait long, for James was a man of courtesy.
"All right. But if you change your mind and want to talk, please feel free to approach either of us," he stated.
"Well, there is one thing I want to say."
"Yes, go on."
Madison's eyes hardened into a glare, and she sat up straighter as she allowed the indignation to rear its head for the first time. "Don't do anything to hurt her."
James registered the demand and then nodded solemnly. "You have my word."
x-x-x-x-x
A day or two crept by, and Madison continued on as usual.
She found it a little easier to ignore the lovebirds now that the ice had cracked. Her hours went into her assigned tasks, and she willingly lost herself in the endless note-taking, testing, and building. Her devotion to Project Purity's goals carried her through every flirtatious quip across the lab, every glimpse of interlaced fingers, every reflexive stab to her chest whenever her apathy slipped. She often moved from workstation to workstation, unable to sit still, her heart a wandering vagabond that her mind couldn't hope to tame.
And although she shared everyone else's elation over the leaps and bounds they had made on the project, she saw the toll it all took on her.
The mirror pulled no punches when it shoved her reflection into her face, showing every premature wrinkle, every stress line that aged her beyond her twenty-six years. Slanted brown eyes weighed down by bags, full lips dry and chapped from much absentminded licking. Her long black hair, normally tied up in a neat bun, looked dull and fell straight down over her bare shoulders. She acknowledged her diminished beauty and finished dressing, flicking off the unforgiving lights on her way out of the bathroom.
Her bedroom felt cool when she padded barefoot across the floor, a sign that someone had managed to fix the ventilation system. The draft that flowed in from the vents seeped right through her cotton nightshirt and raised goosebumps on her skin. As soon as she resolved to speak to someone in the morning about setting an adequate temperature for the living quarters, something rapped at her door.
She checked the time on the glowing terminal at her desk. One o'clock in the morning. Another night owl lurked in their midst?
When she answered the door, more than the physical one opened.
Catherine stood there in her striped pajamas, curly hair uncombed and in disarray. She wore an expression that spoke of melancholy, remorse, and something else implicit, woven alongside tendrils of insecurity and fear. A complicated lattice.
Madison blinked once, twice, unable to come up with a suitable presumption for this late-night visit. "Catherine?" was the best she could do.
"Could I come in?" the other woman asked, voice held in a whisper, as if hidden from a lover.
"Um, sure," Madison said. She stepped aside and motioned her in.
Once the door slid closed behind Catherine, the chill left the room. She dawdled near the entrance until Madison muttered for her to take a seat on the bed, as it was the most comfortable piece of furniture in the undecorated space. The mattress creaked beneath Catherine's weight as she sat down, and Madison plopped on the desk chair across from her, the winding starting in her gut.
"What's this about?" Madison inquired, working to maintain an unassuming tone.
Catherine fidgeted with the hem of her pajama shirt. "James told me he spoke to you the other night. Concerning more personal matters."
"He did, but we finished the conversation amicably enough. Why are you losing sleep over it?"
"Because I didn't get my say."
Madison's brow furrowed. "You and I already talked, though. At the beginning of this. Like I said before, no hard feelings. But you two trying to open a conversation about it is making it that much harder for me to move on."
Catherine glanced downward before gazing at her from under her lashes. "I haven't moved on."
A faint pounding noise filled the air. It took Madison a few seconds to realize it was her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. "What?"
"I know, it's unfair of me to say that. But it's the truth. I mean, I'm happy with him. I really am," Catherine remarked, open and honest, but also steadfast. Beguiling. "Still, even given all that… I can't stop thinking about you, Maddie."
Madison froze at the sound of her nickname, spoken on crystals of affection, as sweet as it had been in the past. She had no answer to it, and so remained silent. An invisible bond, dormant but never severed, awoke at that moment for the first time in months.
Catherine frowned, seeming to sense her quiet alarm. "Will you say something? I don't know what to do here."
Madison snapped out of her paralysis and brought up a hand to rub her forehead. "What… do you want me to say? If you're happy with him, why are you telling me this?"
"I just thought you needed to know."
"We work together every day, and you come to my room in the middle of the night to give me this message?" Madison questioned, almost incredulous. "That you still think about me?"
"That I still love you."
The world around them stopped in that instant, and only they existed in the distorted time warp of their converging past and present. Madison struggled to find words, but they abandoned her in light of her shock. She searched Catherine's face, but needn't. The truth always resided there, etched across the darker woman's features like text in an open book.
A lie would have been easier to confront.
"What do you want from me, Cat?" Madison finally demanded as soon as she regained her speech. "Are you looking to string me along? I don't like playing these games. James is a good man. You shouldn't put him through this while you make up your mind."
"James already knows," Catherine said, somber and wistful as she rose to her feet.
Madison leaned back in her chair when Catherine approached her in slow steps. "And…?"
"He told me to do what I needed to do."
Before she grasped what was happening, Catherine straddled her right over the chair. Delicate arms slipped around her neck, a familiar scent entering her senses as curly-textured hair tickled her chin. Catherine melded against her in a warm embrace, her face tucked into the junction of Madison's shoulder and neck. Madison had no idea what to make of this, no clue how to react. She merely sat there with Catherine in her lap, thinking of all the effort she'd put forth in getting over her—now tossed out the window.
However, at the same time, an inexplicable joy swept through her, gathering beneath her sternum, reminding her just how much she had missed Catherine in this regard. Slowly, her wariness eased, and she allowed herself these stolen moments of intimacy, even if they were temporary. Even if she got hurt again.
Without saying anything, she lifted her arms and held her former paramour against her.
Catherine shifted her head back, limbs still locked around Madison, but the movement allowed her to see her expression. "I guess the question I should ask is… do you still love me, Maddie?"
There, in the small space between them, the latticework of their complex emotions for each other emerged and took shape.
Madison studied her, seeing her own longing reflected in her eyes. "I've never stopped."
Catherine smiled, a vision of beauty underneath the fluorescent light. Then, closing the remaining distance between them, she pressed her lips to Madison's in a soft, chaste kiss. The simple contact broke the walls around her guarded center, and she cupped Catherine's face in her hands, kissing her back with the desperation of one clinging to a fleeting dream. The other woman laughed against her lips and urged her even closer, bringing about a sense of belonging, of rekindled perfection, to this bend in time.
One did have to consider whether such a thing could last, for a heart could not wander between two for long.
Then again, maybe Catherine's heart was as much a vagabond as her own.
x-x-x-x-x
A/N: Fill for the kink meme. (Surprise femslash! It was Catherine, not James, Madison was pining after.) I'm deviating from my usual writing style by keeping the story simplistic and avoiding going into too much detail. I sometimes tend to veer off in gratuitous exposition in my main stories, and short writing exercises like this become necessary to refresh my prose. I'm actually not sure how long this story will run, since every time I try to guess at the number of chapters it will take me to complete a fic, I'm correct approximately 0% of the time. We'll just have to see! Thanks for checking this out!