Midnight is fast approaching when Delphine Cormier finally decides to call it quits. She's been staring at block after block of text for hours and the black ink of the words now seem to be bleeding together into one giant blob. Her mind's just not in it. Nothing's sinking in. She's too distracted by thoughts of...
Delphine drops her highlighter into the center of the casebook, shaking her aching right hand from its clawed position. She vaguely notices that the side of her palm is now stained neon yellow. With a sigh, she rakes her fingers through her blonde hair and arches her back, savoring the satisfying crack and pop of muscles that have been sedentary for far too long.
The Georgetown Law Library is empty save for Delphine and a few other students and staffers. It's a strange occurrence for a Tuesday night in the middle of the law school semester. Usually, the library is packed right until closing, with 1Ls desperately trying not to drown in the hundreds of pages of case reading, briefing, outlining for finals, legal research, and writing.
But not tonight.
Tonight is Halloween.
And while most of her fellow law students are out enjoying the festivities, Delphine is packing up her books and notes and hoping that the comforts of her own apartment will somehow motivate her to continue reading oh-so scintillating negligence cases about duty, breach, and causation.
She had been invited to various parties, haunted houses, and pub crawls. Although she had been sorely tempted to go, she had declined, in part because she never really celebrated Halloween in France, because she viewed it as an opportunity to get ahead of her competitors, and because she didn't particularly fancy spending the night watching other people trying to seduce…
Delphine shakes her head. Law school isn't about having fun or going to parties or flirting with a certain irresistibly cute classmate, Delphine sternly reminds herself as she rubs her eyes. No. Law school is about establishing her career and, hopefully, making a difference in the world. And in order to do that, she has to be in the top 10 percent of her class if she wants her pick of choice clerkships and lucrative job offers when she graduates.
It's nippy when she finally exits the law school and Delphine shivers, pulling her jacket tightly around her. Clutching against her chest one casebook that refused to fit inside her backpack, she briefly considers hailing a cab, but then decides taking the Metro would be the better option. She could stand to save a few dollars, and heavens knows she needs the exercise.
Delphine's thankful the streets are still teeming with revelers dressed in all sorts of costumes, most either ridiculously hypersexualized or overtly silly rather than frightening. It makes her feel just a tad bit safer walking alone-that, and the small canister of mace she always keeps in her jacket pocket. She makes her way to the rail station and walks down the long escalator (trying not to get annoyed at the people who insist on standing on the left instead of the right). Despite the late hour, she doesn't have to wait long until the last train pulls up to the hexagon-tiled platform and she steps inside, locating an empty row and quickly sliding into the window seat.
And in all that time, Delphine doesn't notice the zombie that has been following her for a few blocks and has quietly slipped into the same Metro car.
Delphine didn't expect to make many friends in law school. In fact, she'd already prepared herself for the possibility that she might make a few enemies. But she certainly didn't foresee having an adversary before classes even began.
A couple of weeks prior to the start of the semester, she had received her first assignments. One of them, from her legal analysis and writing (LAWR) professor, required students to electronically submit their thoughts, pro or con, concerning a hypothetical about the legalization of marijuana for recreational use. Delphine had spent hours researching, drafting, revising, and posting what she considered to be a watertight argument in favor of legalization, only to have it picked apart, nearly line by line, by another student.
Username: CNiehaus.
She didn't know who this CNiehaus person thought he or she was, but Delphine wouldn't stand for it. And so CNiehaus and DCormier had waged a heated online battle, lobbying argument after argument, counter-argument after counter-argument. Their thread grew and grew and grew until the professor had to step in and call a stalemate (but not before congratulating them both on their passionate advocacy).
It was then that Delphine made it her mission to destroy this CNiehaus, come hell or high water.
It takes less than 15 minutes for Delphine to ride the Red Line train from Judiciary Square to Chinatown, transfer onto a Yellow Line train, and travel three more stops north to U-Street/Cardozo. When she emerges from the underground, the U Street corridor is still boisterous and bustling, with drunken Halloween partygoers and bar hoppers milling about on the sidewalks and swarms of taxicabs cruising the strip for passengers. Her stomach growls as she passes the bright red and yellow sign of Ben's Chili Bowl and catches a whiff of the horribly unhealthy, but sinfully delicious, chili half-smoke that's become a guilty pleasure ever since she moved to D.C. Delphine is sorely tempted to grab a bite to eat, given that her "dinner," if it could even be called that, had consisted of a weak latte and a stale croissant—so very much unlike the ones Cosima has been bringing to her lately.
Delphine shakes her head. No. She refuses to think about Cosima or where she might be or what she's doing or who she's doing it with.
She takes one last, longing glance at Ben's, but ultimately manages to resist the seductive call of the half-smoke, especially since the line of hungry diners is already snaking its way out the door. She proceeds down the way, finally turning off onto a side street where it becomes considerably darker and more subdued the farther she gets from the main thoroughfare. As she walks by rowhouse after rowhouse along the uneven brick sidewalk, icy tendrils lace down her spine. Delphine stops and spins around, inspecting her surroundings, but she's alone. She continues onward, but can't shake the feeling that someone is watching her.
Glancing over her shoulder, Delphine swears she sees a shadow move several paces behind her and her heart rate skyrockets. It doesn't look entirely… human… and Delphine instantly berates herself for the thought. Halloween or not, there are no such things as monsters.
The wind picks up dead leaves that scratch along the ground and blow around her legs, and Delphine sets an even brisker pace down the street. She strains to listen for any foreign footfalls or other indicators she's being followed over the clack of her boot heels, her increasingly labored breathing, the hammering in her chest, and the blood roaring against her eardrums.
And there!
She hears the extra shuffling getting closer, closer, closer. Too afraid to turn back around, she clutches her casebook in her clammy hands. And when she feels someone (or something) touch her shoulder, Delphine lets out an embarrassing high-pitched scream, whirls around, and swings the thick book in a horizontal arc at what looks like a zombie's head.
THUNK!
The zombie cries out in a very unzombie-like, but oddly familiar,fashion before it drops a brown paper bag and crumples to its knees.
Delphine's about to pull out her mace when the undead creature groans, "Ow...my...ow," in a voice that she manages to recognize over the sound of her frantic heartbeat thundering in her ears.
"Cos...Cosima?"
"Jeez, Delphine, you really don't like me, do you?" Even as she cradles the side of her face, dark-rimmed glasses askew, Cosima still manages to grin up at her.
Delphine's silent (and wholly unilateral) war with CNiehaus heated up on the first day of class. Or, more specifically, Delphine's first class: contracts.
The professor—a rather eccentric fellow with a handlebar mustache, glasses, and dark hair greased and parted on the side like a 1920s businessman—called on her right off the bat and grilled her on the ins and outs of their initial case law assignment. It felt like a bright spotlight was beaming down on her, and she was baking in the heat of the professor's and her classmates' judgment. Although Delphine wasn't normally nervous or shy, that day she was jittery and awkward, stumbling her way through the facts, analysis, and holdings of the case.
And as she was bombing spectacularly (in her mind at least) while trying to explain the concept of consideration in contract formation, a girl barged in, nearly 20 minutes after the start of the class. Delphine stopped mid-sentence, drinking in the sight of the dreadlocked stranger. Unlike Delphine and the rest of their clean-cut classmates, who were dressed in business casual wear, the newcomer was in a form-fitting maroon dress and black fishnet stockings. A cowl-shaped scarf bearing white skulls hung loosely around her neck and the clinking bangles on her wrists drew attention to the tattoos imprinted along her inner forearms. She was striking, and Delphine nearly forgot to breathe.
"Sorry I'm late," the girl said with a sheepish grin, pushing up her black-framed glasses. "There was a mix-up with my schedule and I thought I had torts this morning."
The professor cleared his throat and glanced down at the roster. "You must be Ms. Niehaus," he said.
Niehaus, Delphine internally repeated. As in, CNiehaus. Her archrival. Her nemesis.
"Amazing powers of deduction you have there, prof," Niehaus said with a slight nod, eliciting a few subdued giggles from around the room.
"Ms. Niehaus, you've just volunteered to bail out Ms. Cormier here," he said.
Niehaus's gaze trailed over to Delphine and her eyebrows shot up, lips spreading wide into a toothy grin. "Cormier, huh?" She asked and Delphine's jaw clenched. It seemed CNiehaus recognized her name as well.
"Ms. Niehaus," the professor continued, "perhaps you could define consideration for us."
"A bargained-for exchange that results in a legal detriment to both offeror and offeree," she answered smoothly.
"And what do you mean by legal detriment?"
"Promising or doing something you're not legally obligated to do, or refraining from doing something you have a legal right to do." Niehaus had no problem whatsoever with the professor's rapid-fire Socratic method. Her hands danced fluidly in the air like a symphony conductor as she easily fielded question after question, and discussed hypothetical after hypothetical. All the while, Delphine stood there mutely, a slow burn creeping up her neck to her cheeks and all the way to the tips of her ears. After another 15 minutes or so, the professor seemed satisfied and allowed them both to sit. Niehaus chose the only empty seat left, all the way in the front of the room, and winked at Delphine.
So that was CNiehaus, Delphine thought.
Some small part of her knew, deep down, that she was unfairly deflecting her anger and embarrassment on the wrong person, but it didn't stop her from glaring daggers at the back of Niehaus's head in between typing out notes so vigorously that she was in danger of breaking her laptop.
"Merde."
Delphine crouches down in front of Cosima. Even through the gray makeup and fake blood, she can already see a bit of swelling on the side of Cosima's still smiling face. It should be strange seeing a sunken-eyed zombie so happy, but it works because, well, it's Cosima after all.
"Are you okay?"
"Yup," Cosima says. "No severe injuries here, except maybe to my ego. I'll survive long enough to challenge your class rank though. Sucks for you."
"I don't know." Delphine smirks. "You just might have some brain damage there." She offers a hand to Cosima, who gratefully accepts it, and they help each other to their feet.
"And the dead rise again," Cosima jokes, sliding her hand out of her grip and dusting off her ripped and ragged pants. Delphine hates that she instantly misses the feel of Cosima's warmth.
"Are you sure you're all right?"
"I'm totally, totally fine."
"Good," Delphine says and then smacks Cosima just below her shoulder.
"Hey!" Cosima protests, rubbing her arm. "Walking wounded here!"
"You deserve it! You scared 10 years off my life!"
"Ten? Pshh, no more than like five, tops."
Delphine narrows her eyes, far from amused. Okay, maybe she's a little amused, not that she would ever admit it.
"Okay, sorry, sorry!" Cosima waves her hands in contrition. "I just thought you could use a good old fashioned Halloween trick, U.S. of A style."
"A trick," Delphine flatly repeats with a raised eyebrow. "I thought you were mugging me. You're lucky I didn't spray you with my mace." Cosima manages to sheepishly shrug and Delphine sighs. "What are you even doing here? I thought you were out zombie crawling."
"I was and then I wasn't. Thought I'd bail early."
"Okay… but don't you live in Petworth?"
Cosima half-grins at her. "You know where I live?"
"No. I mean, I might have heard…" Delphine shakes her head and huffs out, "It doesn't matter. Just answer the question."
"Has anyone ever told you you're kinda hot when you're bossy?"
"Cosima…" Delphine says in a dangerously low voice. She's thankful it's too dark for Cosima to notice her blush. Or at least she hopes.
"All right, all right, oh impatient one." Cosima bends down and picks up the small paper bag she dropped after Delphine smacked her upside the head with the casebook. "I got you something."
"You what?" Delphine does her best to ignore the way her heart skips a beat.
"I got you something and I figured, you being you, you'd still be in the library. So I thought I'd swing by and give it to you before it closed. But by the time I got there, you were already walking to the Metro so..."
"So you decided to stalk me back to my apartment and give me a coronary?"
Head tilted slightly to one side, Cosima absentmindedly massages the back of her neck. "Brilliant plan, right?"
"Very," Delphine says dryly. Still, she can't quite reign in her curiosity and her eyes dart to the bag. "So what is it?" She doesn't know how it's possible, but Cosima's grin becomes even more impish than usual.
"A Halloween treat."
Delphine eyes the bag warily, as if something would pop out or it would spontaneously combust at any moment. She wouldn't put it past Cosima. "And will I enjoy this treat as much as I enjoyed your other… surprise?"
"You'll love it." Cosima's dark eyes sparkle with merriment behind her glasses. "But, there's really only one way to find out. Soooo?"
Delphine knows she should say no. It's late. She still has a mountain of reading to finish and they have a 9 a.m. class. She shouldn't be inviting a zombie-clad Cosima up to her apartment. But she surprises herself and nods anyway. She just can't help herself.
"Come on then," Delphine says over her shoulder as she continues down the sidewalk and Cosima quickly falls into step next to her.
Delphine eventually learned that her archenemy's name was Cosima Niehaus and she was, in short, an insufferable know-it-all. Granted, nearly every law student fell somewhere along the insufferable know-it-all spectrum. But Delphine convinced herself that Niehaus was the absolute worst of the bunch, what with her cocksure attitude, irreverence for authority, and utter cheekiness that all the professors and other 1Ls seemed to eat right up.
But not Delphine.
No.
Delphine was positively immune to Niehaus's charms, her mischievous eyes, and her high-wattage grin. She decided to make it a point to keep her distance from Niehaus. But she seemed to show up wherever Delphine went: class (where she, irritatingly, always knew the right thing to say whenever she was called on), the library, the cafeteria, the school's patio, the front steps of the building, even the bathroom. She also attracted attention wherever she went. Men and women flirted with her left and right. Incessantly. Niehaus returned their attention with abandon. It was amazing she had any time left at all to study.
Niehaus always tried to strike up conversation, but Delphine always had a ready-made excuse to avoid it. It worked. For a while. But then it became much harder to steer clear of Niehaus in social gatherings with their classmates, when verbal sparring matches about some social or political issue would inevitably crop up. A few times, Delphine jumped into the fray and Niehaus went right along with her. It became the blackboard clash all over again, but more infuriating because of Niehaus's shit-eating grin every time she thought she had Delphine on the ropes. And that grin spread even wider whenever Delphine came back swinging..
Of course, the avoid-Niehaus-at-all-costs plan came to a grinding halt when their LAWR professor paired them together as co-counsel in a semester long "lawsuit" project. Such was Delphine's luck. And so, against her will, Delphine had to spend even more time with her nemesis in addition to all the classes they shared.
She initially suggested that they proceed separately and then exchange and discuss their work periodically, preferably in a virtual environment. But Niehaus nixed that idea and insisted that they meet in person, as often as possible, in order to ensure they earned the best grade possible. Despite Niehaus's carefree approach to law school, she did seem genuinely concerned about her academic performance. They had that in common at least.
They began meeting in the library right when it first opened, sometimes as much as every other day and even weekends. At first, Delphine kept their interactions as short as possible, providing curt answers only when spoken to. And never, ever, did she initiate conversation unless it was absolutely necessary. She was being childish. She knew that. But she couldn't help it.
If Delphine's cold demeanor bothered her in any way, Niehaus didn't mention it. She always showed up as happy as ever, as if she couldn't wait to see what the new day would bring (even though it was always the same: more and more assignments). Even when her eyes became bloodshot and her foundation and concealer didn't quite mask the dark circles under her eyes, she never failed to greet Delphine with the warmest of smiles and to engage her with fascinating perspectives on their work. If anything, Niehaus was intellectually stimulating. Even Delphine could grudgingly admit that much.
And then it happened.
Somewhere along the way, Delphine stopped thinking of Niehaus as Niehaus the Nemesis, but just as Cosima. Happy Cosima with the keen intellect and even sharper wit. And before she knew it, Delphine began to anticipate not only her company, but the crinkles at the corners of her dark winged eyeliner whenever she smiled and the crystal clear joy of her laughter. It took her completely by surprise and the realization set Delphine's teeth on edge. She was sure it had to all be an act. Perhaps it was Cosima's way of lulling her into a false sense of complacency so when Delphine dropped her guard, Cosima would go straight for the jugular when she least expected it.
But that never occurred.
And after about another few weeks or so, Cosima finally had enough.
"You don't like me, do you?" Cosima asked just as Delphine was taking a bite out of a crappy cafeteria croissant. She posed the question so softly that Delphine almost missed it.
"Sorry?"
"You don't like me," Cosima repeated, this time as a statement of fact, and Delphine's heart clenched. Just a little. "At first I thought that maybe you were quiet because you just liked to keep to yourself or whatever. Which is, you know, totally cool. But you seem to interact just fine with other people. So, I figured it's just… me... you don't like."
"I don't not like you," Delphine said carefully.
"Double negative." Cosima tapped the end of her ballpoint pen on the edge of the library table they'd been sharing. "Comforting."
Delphine exhaled slowly. "I like you just fine, Cosima."
"But?"
"But nothing," she said, nibbling the corner of her bottom lip.
"Okay." Cosima looked back down at her work. They sat in silence for several moments, pouring over their research and drafts, when Cosima spoke up again. "Are you sure it wasn't something I said or did? Because I kind of have a tendency to open mouth A and insert foot B. And if that's the case, then I apologize."
Delphine closed her eyes and sighed. "You're really not letting this go, are you?" She looked back up and met Cosima's thoughtful gaze.
"Sorry, I just, whatever it is, I'd like to get past it. If there is something to get past, I mean. Because I think we could be friends, you and I. Good friends, even."
Friends.
For some inexplicable reason, the idea of being friends with Cosima made her feel anxious and elated and disappointed all at the same time. Delphine stared at her and clearly took too long to answer because Cosima only nodded once to herself, lips forming into a straight line instead of their usual smile. She resumed scribbling notes along the margins of a case she had printed out, when Delphine blurted out:
"It was the blackboard debate."
Cosima's gaze shot back up, eyes wide. "What?"
"The one about marijuana? It seemed like you were attacking me and only me. I suppose I... took it… poorly," she admitted.
"You thought I was attacking you?" Cosima exhaled and then her shoulders started to shake. It took Delphine several seconds to realize Cosima was holding in her laughter.
"And that's amusing because…?" She asked, trying not to feel offended.
"Delphine, I wasn't trying to attack you. I thought your post was the only one even worth responding to! Maybe I got carried away, but I was just excited to finally feel," she looked up at the ceiling as if trying to find the right word," I don't know. Challenged. You know?" Cosima leaned forward. "I thought your arguments were brilliant. I think you're brilliant."
"You think I'm…" Heat prickled across Delphine's cheeks and her traitorous heart fluttered at Cosima's compliment.
"I do," Cosima continued softly. "Listen, we could help each other. Push each other to think outside of the box. So what do you say we start over, tabula rasa?" She stuck out her hand, eyes bright and hopeful. "I'm Cosima."
Unable to resist, Delphine reached out and shook Cosima's hand with a firm grip, subconsciously taking note of the silky softness of her skin and the warmth of her palm.
"Delphine. Enchantée."
Cosima's smile was radiant.
"Enchantée."
On their way to Delphine's apartment, Cosima spins tale after tale about the zombie crawl, particularly pleased with herself for freaking out D.C. residents and tourists alike with her costume. Charming and captivating, Cosima is as gifted at storytelling as she is at debating, and Delphine's stomach begins to ache from holding in all her laughter. As they enter the building, she lightly presses a finger to her lips to indicate that they need to be quiet and Cosima mostly complies.
It takes forever for the elevator to arrive and as they wait, two guys dressed in cowboy costumes stumble through the main entrance, drunk or high or both. Their hands roam all over each other, slipping underneath their shirt-less black leather vests and chaps. Blushing, Delphine is astonished that neither of them have asphyxiated yet, what with the way their tongues are shoved deeply in each other's mouths. Cosima, meanwhile, doesn't seem phased at all and grins openly at them in between sneaking amused glances at Delphine. The elevator finally dings and the men break apart, finally noticing that they aren't alone in the hallway. Neither appears embarrassed in the slightest.
"Oh, hey, didn't see you there," says the shorter one. He has a soul patch on his chin and his long, chestnut hair is pulled back into a ponytail underneath the black Stetson slanted roguishly on his head.
Delphine greets him with a small nod, while Cosima waves at them both. They all file into the elevator and stand in pairs on opposite sides. The taller guy, whose shorter hair curls around his head like a crown, drapes an arm across his boyfriend's shoulders. His dark lined eyes travel across both women, clearly sizing them up.
"Wicked zombie makeup," he says to Cosima in a surprising South London accent.
"Thanks dude," she beams. "Took forever to finish."
"You did it yourself?" His eyebrows shoot up. "I'm impressed."
"And the dreads?" The boyfriend asks. "That a wig?"
"Nope, all me," Cosima says proudly.
"Nice." He nods approvingly.
Both men turn their heads toward Delphine. "And what are you supposed to be then?" The British one asks. "Her corpse bride?"
Delphine's brow furrows. She obviously isn't in costume and she wonders if he's somehow implying she looks haggard enough to be a cadaver. Just as she's about to cut him down to size, Cosima suddenly wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her close, flush up against her side. An unexpected frisson jolts through Delphine's body at the contact, leaving her tongue tied and frazzled.
"She sure is," Cosima answers, grinning wolfishly and giving Delphine a little squeeze. "I'm gonna take her home and eat out her...Ow!" She yelps in pain as Delphine digs a heel into her toes. "Brains," Cosima finishes with a wince. "Her delicious brains."
The lift thankfully slows to a stop at Delphine's floor and she nearly sighs in relief. "This is us," she says and then quickly backtracks, "I mean me. This is my floor."
"Have a good one," the ponytailed guy says as Cosima slips a hand down to Delphine's hip and guides them out of the elevator.
"Better make her scream," the other one adds, addressing Cosima but tilting his head at Delphine. "It's Halloween after all and she looks like she could use it."
"Oh I will." Waggling her eyebrows suggestively, Cosima barely contains her laughter and Delphine has a sudden urge to smack her again with the casebook.
Once the doors close, Delphine whirls on Cosima. "You. Are. Such. A. Brat." She means to scold, but it comes out much more fondly than she intends.
"Yeah," Cosima laughs, "but you like that about me."
I do, Delphine thinks. She likes too much about Cosima, in fact. And that's a problem.
After reaching their detente, Cosima brought freshly baked croissants and two large cups of café au lait to their next early morning library meeting.
"I figure you must get homesick sometimes," she explained, sliding one of the pastries to a surprised Delphine. "From what I've read, there are some decent bakeries around town. I'm sure they're not as good as the ones in Paris, but they've gotta be at least better than the shit they try to pass off as food in the cafeteria."
"Cosima, this is…" A wave of warmth rolled through her. "Thank you, but you shouldn't have."
"Why not? Gotta eat, right? Regardless of what you may think, cigarettes and coffee do not a balanced breakfast make so… " She looked at her expectantly.
Picking up the croissant, Delphine brought it to her nose to first savor its warm and buttery aroma before biting into the flaky crust with a soft crunch. Her eyes rolled back and she moaned. It was perfect. Crispy on the outside, feathery on the inside. She followed it with a sip of the hot and creamy café au lait, groaning again in pleasure.
"That good, huh?" Blushing, Cosima watched her mouth, transfixed.
"Mmm oui," Delphine said, not even realizing she switched to French. "C'est délicieux. Merci."
"You're very welcome."
Thereafter, Cosima never failed to bring an assortment pastries from different bakeries to their library sessions—beignets, éclairs, madeleines, pains au chocolat—and they playfully argued about which bakery had the best versus the most authentic French sweets and whether the superlatives were mutually exclusive.
"How on earth do you find the time to go to all these places?" Delphine asked one morning. "They can't all be near where you live?"
"No, but luckily they and the Metro open pretty early so I can pick up the goods and still make it here before 8."
"You should be using that time to rest or to study."
"Maybe," Cosima shrugged. "But you're worth it."
There was something in the way Cosima regarded her in that moment, dark eyes soft and gentle. Something Delphine couldn't quite name, or perhaps was too afraid to identify. But the air around them seemed to shift and it sparked something deep within Delphine that never went away and only flared brighter whenever she was with Cosima.
"It's a bit messy," Delphine tells Cosima as she unlocks her front door, steps in, and turns on the light.
Her one-bedroom apartment is tiny, barely more than an efficiency. She hasn't had much time to decorate—a few picture frames hang on the wall, black and white throw pillows lay haphazardly on the red couch, a few potted plants line the windowsill—but the space is functional and comfortable and suits her needs. She has books and papers scattered along nearly every flat surface, from her kitchen counters to her coffee table and the desk she placed underneath the living room window.
Cosima follows her into the living room and twirls in a small circle. "Um, holy shit."
"I'm sorry." Delphine winces in embarrassment. "I wasn't expecting guests."
"No, no, no! Don't be sorry!" Cosima places her paper bag on the counter separating the kitchen from the living area. "It's just, if this is your idea of messy, I'm pretty sure you'll think my place is a nuclear waste dump."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Delphine chuckles, setting her backpack and casebook down near the sofa. "You can wash up in there, if you'd like." She points to the bathroom. "And I'll get you something for your head."
"Something strong, I hope," Cosima winks and disappears into the other room.
Smiling and shaking her head, Delphine heads to the kitchen, takes out a pack of frozen peas from the fridge, and pulls down two wine glasses from the cupboard. She can hear water running in the washroom as she moves to her modest countertop wine rack. She pauses, logic telling her it's unwise to drink so late on a weekday. But a small devil on her shoulder, one she imagines has dreadlocks and glasses, convinces her that one glass won't hurt. Debating for only a few more seconds, she ultimately selects one of the bottles of pinot noir she had brought with her from France.
Delphine quickly uncorks it and is in the middle of pouring the red wine when Cosima joins her in the kitchen. Even with her face scrubbed free of makeup, zombie or otherwise, Cosima is still stunning and Delphine's breath catches.
"I owe you a new washcloth," Cosima says, leaning back against the counter.
"Don't worry about it," Delphine clears her throat and waves her off. "May I?" She asks, stepping in front of Cosima and gesturing to the side of her face.
"Oh, um, sure."
Delphine reaches up and lightly holds Cosima's chin between her thumb and forefinger, gently tilting her head to the side. With her other hand, she examines the side of her face, tenderly tracing the purplish bruising with the pads of her fingers.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Delphine asks, trying not to dwell on the softness of Cosima's skin or the earthy sweetness of her perfume. "Any pain?"
Cosima shakes her head and grips the edges of the counter.
"So no dizziness?" Delphine examines her caramel eyes, which now appear almost black. "Your pupils are dilated."
"No," Cosima answers, her voice a bit shaky. "Not from what you're thinking of at least."
"What?"
"Just ignore me. I might have had some pot earlier."
Delphine nods, pleased that Cosima doesn't appear to have a concussion. She releases her and steps back and Cosima exhales loudly through her nose. It takes only a few moments before Delphine realizes what Cosima just revealed.
"Wait… did you just say you smoked marijuana?"
"Yeah, I'm from San Fran so…"
Delphine stares at her, mouth hanging open. "But at the start of the semester, with the, with the blackboard debate, you tore down every single one of my arguments about legalization!"
Cosima half grins. "I was playing devil's advocate."
"Devil's advocate," she repeats. It was just like Cosima to take a contrary position for the hell of it. "Non, tu es le diable," she says with an affectionate shake of her head.
"Huh?"
"Nothing." Delphine hands her the frozen peas. "Hold this up to your face. It should help with the swelling."
"Thanks," Cosima says, groaning a little when the makeshift ice pack touches her skin. "So, are you a 1L by day, and a med student by night?"
Delphine laughs. "My parents would have loved that. I mean, they're proud of me, but I think they still hope their only child will change her mind and become a doctor like them."
"Why didn't you, if you don't mind me asking?"
Shrugging, Delphine offers a glass to Cosima, who gratefully accepts it. "My entire family is in medicine, and it's a fascinating field, but I… I just wanted something that was just mine, you know?" She sips her own wine. "I suppose that sounds vain.'
"Not at all." Cosima shakes her head. "We all have to forge our own paths. I'm sure my dad's disappointed that I didn't pursue a doctorate in microbiology, so I feel you there."
"And you?" Delphine leads them out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Why did you choose law school?"
"I thought I'd be able to help people without being locked away in some lab jail for hours on end."
"So you'd rather be locked in an office for hours on end?"
Cosima chuckles as she sits on the couch. "Not necessarily. Depends on where you work. I have no intention of going into big law. I'd rather start my own, like, social justice firm, you know? Set up my own hours. Hell, even work on the beach if I wanted to."
"I could see that," Delphine replies, taking her own seat. In her mind's eye, she can already picture Cosima lounging on the sand, laptop across her legs, trying to save the world one case at a time.
"You could be my partner," Cosima offers. "I can see it now. Niehaus Cormier. Opposing counsel will quake when they see our names. What do you think?"
Delphine laughs. "Cormier Niehaus. And I'll consider it if you bring breakfast to the office every morning."
"Your wish is my command." Cosima grins. "Oh, hey, before I forget, you still have to open your Halloween treat." Dropping the bag of peas on the coffee table, she hops off the sofa, grabs the paper bag from the counter, and brings it back.
Delphine takes it, skin tingling from where her fingers brush against Cosima's, and peeks inside.
The morning of Halloween, Delphine found an unexpected, and not particularly pleasant, surprise waiting for her in the library. Perched atop the usual table she shared with Cosima (Delphine refused to wonder when exactly she began thinking of it as their table) was one of their classmates, Lynn, if she remembered correctly. Legs dangling off the side, Lynn was laughing out loud to whatever no doubt ridiculous story Cosima was telling. Lynn leaned down, practically shoving her cleavage into Cosima's face. People flirting with Cosima was not a new occurrence. It happened all the time. But for some reason, that morning, in their space, it made Delphine grit her teeth with a loud clack.
"Hey Delphine!" Cosima greeted as she approached. Perhaps it was all in Delphine's mind, but Cosima appeared to visibly brighten upon seeing her, and she watched with satisfaction as Lynn's smile faded in response to Cosima's excitement.
"Bonjour Cosima," she said. "Lynn."
"Hi Delphine," Lynn replied.
"I was just telling Lynn about my costume for tonight's zombie crawl," Cosima said excitedly, sliding a customary café au lait her way. "They say there might be a Thriller flash mob on the Mall. You sure you don't want to come?"
"I'm sure, Cosima," Delphine told her. Again. For the millionth time in the past few weeks. "I need to study."
"We all need to study, Delphine, but one night off isn't going to ruin you. Besides, aren't you familiar with the law of diminishing returns?"
"I am well aware of that principle, thank you," Delphine placed her backpack down on a chair, while Lynn's interested gaze darted back and forth between them, "but I'm nowhere near that point."
"C'mon, I'll make it worth your while," Cosima promised. "I'll get you all the candy you can eat."
"Cosima, I already told you I don't really like candy."
"How is that even possible?" She exclaimed, pointing at the almond croissants she brought that morning. "You eat sweet pastries!"
"Yes, but they're not candy."
Cosima threw up her hands. "I just, I can't believe it. There has to have been some kind of candy you liked, even as a kid." She lifted up her index finger. "Just one."
She just wouldn't give up. Delphine couldn't decide whether it was exasperating or endearing. "Okay. I liked truffles."
"Truffles."
"Yes, the ones my grandpère used to make, but I highly doubt we'll come across those gallivanting around the city as zombies."
"You never know!"
Delphine barely resisted the urge to audibly sigh when Lynn cut in: "Don't be such a bad influence, Cosima."
"See?" Delphine said, grateful for the unexpected backup. "Lynn gets it."
"Lynn's coming tonight too," Cosima pointed out.
"Oh."
Lynn smiled sheepishly. "It is only one night."
Cosima raised an eyebrow at Delphine, who wanted nothing more than to cave right then and there. But she had to stay strong. She couldn't just give in to Cosima whenever she wanted. "I'm sorry. Maybe next time."
"Fine, fine." Cosima waved her off but couldn't quite hide her disappointment and Delphine felt her heart sink. "I'm gonna grab some water. You guys want anything from the cafeteria?"
Delphine and Lynn both shook their heads and Cosima bounded off with a quick, "Be right back," leaving the two women in an awkward silence.
"So Delphine," Lynn eventually said as Delphine reached down to pick up her coffee, "Inquiring minds have been dying to know: are you and Cosima hooking up?"
Delphine nearly dropped the cup. "I… um... what?"
"You two spend an awful lot of time together. She's hot, you're hot, one thing could easily lead to another…"
Too shocked to immediately formulate a coherent response, Delphine opened and closed her mouth several times before finally stuttering out, "Th-that's… no… we're friends! Nothing more." As the words stumbled out of her mouth, they tasted like a lie, even though they were the complete and utter truth.
"Good." Lynn looked quite pleased and Delphine had a sudden desire to commit an intentional tort against her. Like battery. Battery would be good. "So, does she have a type? Do you think I'd have a shot with her?"
No! Delphine wanted to shout. But the truth was, she had no idea if Cosima had a type. Still, a small green-tinged voice in the back of her mind told her that if Cosima did have one, Lynn wasn't it. Instead, she diplomatically said, "I really don't know. But I'm sure you'd have as good of a shot as anyone else."
"I'll take it," Lynn said just as Cosima returned to the table. "Nice talking to you, Delphine. See you tonight, Cosima?"
"Oh, yeah, see you," Cosima replied with her usual smile.
Lynn trailed her fingers down Cosima's arm as she passed her, and Delphine did her best to ignore the twisting in her gut.
To Delphine's utter relief, nothing jumps or pops or explodes from the bag. It is, in fact, just a bag. With a small cube-shaped box inside.
"You totally thought it was another trick, didn't you?" Cosima says from beside her on the couch.
"No."
"Liar," she chuckles.
Delphine pulls out the box, which is wrapped in garish orange paper covered with black cats arching their backs in fright.
"Can you believe that wrapping paper cost only 99 cents?" Cosima comments. "Such a steal for a work of art!" She's nervous, Delphine can tell. And it's adorable.
"It's lovely," Delphine says genuinely, delicately removing the paper to reveal an elegant package of truffles and a gift certificate for a truffle making class for two.
"So, there's no way I could possibly make truffles as well as your grandfather. Obvs. But I hear this place is pretty good." Cosima wrings her hands as she explains. "And with your birthday coming up I thought maybe you'd be willing to abandon the casebooks for one night and we could go learn how to make truffles. You know, together. " The longer Cosima rambles, the faster Delphine's heart swells. "Not that you should feel obligated to take me because, duh, the certificate is good for whoever but-"
Delphine leans forward and kisses Cosima on the cheek, just a few millimeters shy of the corner of her lips.
"I'd love to go with you," she breathes out. "Merci."
For once, Cosima is at a loss for words, cheeks flushed, eyes dazed.
"Shall we have some?" Delphine asks and Cosima only nods mutely.
She opens the box and pulls out a dark chocolate truffle and places it on her tongue. It's not quite like her grandpère's, but the bittersweet flavor is still heavenly and she moans in appreciation. Delphine offers the box to Cosima, but then an idea pops into her head and she pulls it back just as Cosima reaches out.
"What will you give me for one?" Delphine asks.
"Um, what?"
"I will give up my legal possession of a truffle, but what consideration will you give me in exchange?" She rephrases the question.
A wide grin splits Cosima's beautiful face. "Is that how it's gonna be? You wanna form a contract?"
"Correct."
"Why don't you make your offer of consideration first and I'll choose whether to accept."
"All right." Delphine nibbles at her bottom lip. "In exchange for one truffle, I get to ask a question that you have to answer truthfully."
Cosima laughs. "So one truffle, one answer. Okay, I accept. What's your first question?"
"Why did you leave the Halloween festivities early?"
"To bring you the truffles."
"You could have just as easily given them to me tomorrow. Why tonight?"
"I don't know." Cosima shrugs up one shoulder. "The parties were fun and all, but I just needed a change of scene, I guess. That's two answers I just gave you, by the way."
Delphine lets her pick out two truffles from the box. "What about Lynn?" She tries to keep her voice as neutral as possible. "She seemed quite interested in having a good time with you tonight."
"Lynn?" Cosima pops one of the milk chocolate confections in her mouth. "That girl is pressed. But she's not my type."
"So what is your type?" Delphine asks and they lock gazes. Heat rises in her chest and her pulse quickens as she waits for the answer. But Cosima only looks away and shrugs again.
Delphine hands over only one piece of chocolate. "Last question," she places the box on the table and turns her body toward Cosima, their knees touching, "why are you really here?"
Cosima takes a deep breath. "Because I…"
The lights cut out and Cosima actually shrieks, jumping toward Delphine and ending up nearly sprawled across her lap.
"You've spent the better part of the night scaring people," Delphine comments drolly, hands instinctively finding Cosima's waist. Her eyes slowly adjust to the lack of light. She can barely make out the outline of Cosima's face. "It's just an outage. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark."
"Afraid? Me?" She scoffs. "Don't be ridicu…"
A car backfires on the street below with a loud BANG and Cosima surges forward again, this time clutching at Delphine's shoulders.
Delphine can't help but laugh.
"Hey, it's not funny," Cosima says, burying her face in the crook of Delphine's neck. "I had a very traumatic childhood. You don't know how evil sisters can be."
Her breath tickles her skin and Delphine laughs even harder.
"Quit laughing, you," Cosima lifts her head up and playfully pokes at her side.
"Make me," Delphine challenges.
And Cosima does.
With her lips.
It's a barely there ghost of a touch, but it's enough to dispel her laughter. Delphine's mind goes blank and she chases after Cosima's mouth, deepening the kiss. Cosima tastes like red wine and chocolate, and the heady, sour-sweet combination leaves Delphine dizzy and craving more.
She wraps her arms around Cosima to both steady herself and pull her closer. They don't break apart even as Cosima pushes her back into the cushions and straddles her legs, igniting a flame that blazes down Delphine's spine and settles low in her stomach. Deft fingers scrape along her scalp and tangle in her blonde waves. And when Cosima's tongue traces her lips and enters her mouth, Delphine groans and involuntarily bucks her hips up. Cosima gasps and clenches her thighs. She pulls back slightly, hands sliding from Delphine's hair to gently cup her jaw.
"Does this answer your last question?" Cosima whispers, skimming her thumbs along the curves of Delphine's cheeks. She doesn't bother answering, just leans up and captures Cosima's lips again. And again. They steal each other's breath away until Delphine nudges Cosima off and onto her feet.
"You were right," Delphine says between kisses as she guides Cosima backward into her bedroom with only moonlight illuminating the way.
"I'm right about a lot of things. You'll have to be more specific."
Delphine pinches Cosima's side and she yelps in delight. "I do love this Halloween treat," she admits softly, feeling Cosima smile against her lips.
"Good." Cosima nuzzles her nose. "Because there's plenty more where that came from."
As they begin to peel off their clothes and Cosima's hands slide electricity across her bare skin, Delphine halfheartedly tries to remind herself that law school isn't about having fun or making friends. And it most certainly isn't about falling for your adversary, former or otherwise. But as she and Cosima lose themselves in each other, she finds she already has.
A/N: I've got a bunch of thanks to dole out for this fic. First, I want to thank the souls on tumblr who post general, across-fandom fanfic prompts, specifically zombie crawl, law school, and rival AUs. Without them, I probably would never have gotten the idea for this story. Secondly, I'd like to thank zooeyglasszorba for answering my question about Halloween in France. Thirdly, I have nothing but neverending gratitude for beta readers twig-height and tatarrific. Working with both of you was a blast! Last but not least, my eternal thanks to my wife who not only did the first read of the fic, but also gave me the blackout idea in the last scene. :) Hope you all enjoyed it!
Disclaimer: The D.C. Metro is not nearly as efficient as it's portrayed in this story.