"There's paper in your hair."

"Oh crap. Not again."

With a sigh, Starbuck reached around and picked out a small ball of paper from her hair. It hung loose and wild, which sort of explained the six tiny balls of paper stuck in it. Zack just stared, observing her fail utterly. She managed to get two pieces out and turned back around. "Did I get them all?"

"No," he said.

"Dammit! Can you help me?"

Zack nodded and stepped behind her. As he was a foot taller than her, he needed to crouch down to get to her hair. As he bent his head, he caught a whiff of her hair. She smelled like green apples. Zack took a deep breath and quickly plucked out the bits of paper out of her hair.

"Thank you!" she said brightly. "These guys in my Psych class were spitting these at everyone. I guess my hair is like a paper magnet or whatever."

"Papers can not be magnetic, as they are-" Zack began to go off on a rant but was cut off by Starbuck putting her hand over his mouth.

"Z-man, I was being metaphorical," she said gently, a slight teasing smile on her face. Zack noted that she wore rings on each finger, creating cold spots on his mouth and chin. He nodded to convey his understanding. She let go and sat back on the sofa.

They were sitting in the lounge area that looked over the lab. It was a Wednesday night, with nothing special going on. Starbuck was waiting for Sweets at the lab. They were going to have dinner that night. They had been seeing each other every day for the past month, making up for the years they had spent apart. She came to the lab a few times a week for lunch, bonding with Angela during that time. Zack didn't know what they talked about, maybe magazines and men. He didn't really know what women talked about.

To everyone's surprise, Zack and Starbuck were on their odd little road to BFF-dom. They talked a lot, which was the confusing part. Somehow, she didn't crack at more than half her references going over his head. Zack noted he felt at ease with her, when usually he was on edge around women. He was that way around her friends. Ripley was good looking and friendly. Perhaps a little too friendly. Conners was intense. He could have been imagining it, but he swore she was glaring at him constantly.

"Come on. Sit with me," she said cheerfully, patting the space next to her. Zack was waiting for Hodgins to finish up so he could get a ride home. He took a seat next to her. She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. "I'm tired," she muttered. "You mind?"

The smell of her shampoo wafted into his nostrils.

"No," he managed to get out.

"Thanks man."

A stray curl brushed against his cheek and Zack reached to put it away on her head, and it ended up around his finger. If she felt anything, Starbuck gave no signs. She seemed comfortable in her current spot. Zack didn't mind it either.

"Ahem."

Hodgins stood in front of them, an almost amused smile on his face. "Hey, Zack, I'm ready."

"I'll see you tomorrow," Zack said awkwardly.

"Yeah. See ya," Starbuck gave a little wave to both men and started to roll up her sweatshirt to use as a pillow.

"Dude, you gotta be careful." he said.

"Why?" Zack asked, honestly confused.

Hodgins just stared and shook his head.

"Why?"

Xxx

It was twenty past seven. Three minutes had passed since Conners had checked her phone for the time. She had been here for a half hour, and had long since finished her latte. There weren't even any drops left and she had shredded two napkins during her wait. A few packets of sugar had fallen as well, a fine dusting covering the tabletop before Conners. She cursed picking up her friend's bad habits.

Two minutes later, she checked her phone again.

The guy was twenty-two minutes late. Conners sighed and began to sweep up her mess. He wasn't coming. She had wasted her evening for nothing. Maybe it would be salvageable.

The day before, she had gotten a message on Facebook from her sort of high school boyfriend, David Jackson. They had been an item during the last few months of their senior year and had hooked up on and off over the next year. He had gone to University of Maryland, which wasn't too far from where she was. They saw each other whenever, usually for sex. Her friends didn't approve at all, claiming that he was using her. Which was totally true, but she was aware of it and was using him as well. Why couldn't a young woman such as herself want good sex? Ripley had a different boyfriend nearly every week, and well…kinky didn't quite describe her. She was so insane that she made it seem normal. On the other end of the spectrum, Starbuck was very picky and it was like pulling teeth getting her to talk about her sex life. If Conners hadn't seen her and some guy going at it in a bathroom during a concert, she would have to say her friend was a virgin.

But somehow being the middle made it okay for her friends to treat her like a child. Maybe it was because she had turned 18 in August while the other two were 21. But 16 was the age of consent in Maryland and DC thank you very much. She had been nearly 17 when she had hooked up with David. So age didn't matter.

It had been a couple months since she had seen him (for a tumble at her house while her mother was out of town) and when he had messaged her, Conners had been a bit excited, and had agreed to see him. They had arranged to meet at a Barnes and Noble near Georgetown.

And he was twenty-two minutes late. Conners had thought this would be their first real date since high school. She had found a skirt in the back of her closet and a top that didn't make her look like a total dork and had been waiting. And waiting.

And waiting.

Now that she realized he wasn't coming, she got up and decided to browse. This store was huge, bigger than the one near her house. She needed to pick up a copy of Wuthering Heights that didn't have the Twilight inspired cover and the latest issue of MAD so she could have something to read in the bathtub.

There were actually a few sane copies of Wuthering Heights left and she spent a few minutes browsing, cheered up slightly. While her friends were indifferent to Twilight, borderline anti, Conners loathed the series. Mostly because every character was a douche or under-rated. Alice reminded of Starbuck on crack and several other drugs, while Rosalie reminded her of Ripley, with her bitchiness magnified. Conners considered herself Leah-esque.

"Hello."

Conners turned to see a vaguely familiar man standing next to her. He had a few books in his arms and a slightly quizzical look on his face.

"Hi," she said slowly, her brain trying to remember who he was.

"I don't know if you remember me, but, um, I work at the Jeffersonian and I've you and your, er, friend there a few times. I'm Vincent. Vincent Nigel-Murray."

Oh yeah, the British guy who had spouted something off about Harry Potter book sales the one time they had met. Conners had been reading the final book at the time and had all but forgotten about him.

"Oh hi," Conners nodded at him, clutching her book and magazine to her chest, attempting to cover her chest, feeling suddenly self-conscious. He had quite pretty eyes, and they held some bit of intelligence, which many boys her age lacked.

"It was nice to actually meet you," she said, actually a tad nervous.

"Yes, it was lovely."