Firstly, I own nothing

Secondly, this chapter is dedicated to all members, former or current, of the excellent prog-metal band Dream Theater.

Chapter 10: Shape of My Heart, Part II

And if I told you that I loved you
You'd maybe think there's something wrong
I'm not a man of too many faces
The mask I wear is one

(Sting; Shape of my Heart)

A lonesome woman was striding down the dark street. A purse hung on her shoulder, flapping against her side; her other arm was wrapped around a shopping bag. Her clothes were very simple - today she had put on a loose, checked shirt, a black vest and a pair of rather worn jeans. Her feet nestled in sneakers of indefinite color that were always boasting one or two smears of dirt.

Her hands were small and delicate, just as her whole appearance. Her eyes were thoughtful and bright, adorned with dark, beautifully curved eyebrows, with no make-up to accentuate her features - the eyes alone were twinkling enough with the restless flame of her brilliant mind. Her face showed calm and composure, yet if one looked closer, they would surely recognize a touch of absence, as if a part of her thoughts always lingered somewhere else. Her hair had a color similar to that of dark caramel, was straight and fell to her shoulder blades. In sum, one could most certainly notice that the simple outfit somehow just did not match her unusual beauty.

She stopped before the parking lot and looked around prior to walking towards her car. Then she opened the trunk, heaved the shopping bag in between several coils of cables, an old computer, a speaker set, a small telescope and its tripod. After smashing the trunk close she made a few hesitant steps to the front door, but then, suddenly, she stopped and turned her head the other way.

It was that parking lot across the street. And that dorm. Which one of the windows is his? Is it dark or lit? Can I see it from here at all? She smiled weakly and let out a long sigh.

Jane looked up. It was a bright night, the stars glittering in the dark skies. For a moment, she seemed to be hesitating, fighting a hidden battle in her thoughts. But then she looked back down. The car lock clicked, and Jane Foster started towards the familiar dorm across the street. That dorm.

She stopped at the main entrance and tried to peek inside through the glass door. To do that, she leaned closer and brought her hands to the glass surface and shielded her sight from the street lights. She recognized the front desk and an elderly receptionist standing behind it. And as soon as she did, she realized that he was pointing at her and gesturing wildly. At first, she just stepped back, startled and embarrassed a bit, and looked around, pretending to have no further interest in the building. However, she heard a noise. And again. He was calling for someone to come in. For her.

So she chose to open the door and walk in. "Good evening." She tried politely and approached the desk. "Um, sorry, I just-" she managed before being cut off swiftly by… Joel Barnes, read the old man's badge.

"What do you want?" snapped the guy.

"Well, nothing bad." She offered a smile despite feeling slightly offended. "I just wanted to speak with-"

"So a visitor? But I'll require your name and signature, here." The man stopped her again and moved a book in front of her. "I am terribly sorry, madam, but we had a few, eh, fake visitors here before you showed up. If you know what I mean. Demanding change or cigarettes." He finally decided to come up with an apology.

"I see." Jane smiled again and leaned against the desk.

"Yes. Here." The man nodded and pointed at the line in the book where Jane was supposed to sign. "Oh and… There's a fee if you're going to stay overnight."

"Ah." Jane smiled. "No, I think I'm not." Don't blush, Jane. Don't you dare!

"Good evening!" A familiar voice shouted from the entrance. Jane turned and her eyes met Garo, the senior research fellow at MIT, and currently their dear guest at the research facility. "Oh. Good evening, Jane!" he added upon noticing her presence.

"Wait, you're working for SHIELD?" the receptionist asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes." Jane confirmed.

"May I see your ID?"

"Of course." Jane answered and reached to her purse to find the item.

"All… Right." Chimed the receptionist as he wrote down the ID number. "Then you may stay as long as you wish without worry. No fees for the SHIELD people." He looked up and grinned.

"Thank you, that's... great." Jane answered, holding back a giggle. "But I'm still sure I'm not going to stay overnight."

"As you wish." The man raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "And whom are you going to visit?"

"Um…" Jane looked at Garo and the awkward feeling crept on her once again.

"Well, I'm afraid I am not the one, am I?" Garo grinned knowingly. "I'd say it's rather Mr. Wednesday, huh?" he asked playfully as he approached.

"Eh…"

"Wednesday, I see!" The receptionist bubbled, apparently amused. "Another beautiful lady… lucky man, lucky man!" He murmured, waiting for Jane's reaction.

"Another?" Jane repeated, frowning in confusion.

"Oh. Didn't you know about the other woman?" The receptionist asked with a smirk.

"What?" Jane snorted.

"Hey, stop that. Today I feel rather tired for quarrels." Garo cut in, frowning at Mr. Barnes. "Would you mind me escorting you upstairs, Jane?" He asked and offered his elbow for her to cling onto. To Jane it sounded more like a command, though.

"Uh... yes. Why not?" She muttered and held Garo by the forearm obediently.

"Have a wonderful evening, Professor Callahan! And you, Dr. Foster!" the receptionist called after them. Jane inhaled and tunred to look over her shoulder, but Garo gave a jerk forward. "Please, don't take it serious." He half-whidpered to her and called the evelator. "The guy is just utterly bored most of the time, that's it."

Then the elevator chimed and they walked in. Garo pressed the buttons for the first and second floor. "Second is mine." he smiled; then sighed. "As a young lad I would run and jump up the stairs like a stag. Well, I would like to even now, but I'm afraid my knees wouldn't agree."

"I see." Smiling nervously, Jane answered and started to feel inappropriate as the doors closed. They moved up in awkward silence. Then the chime sounded again – finally! – and the doors opened. A muffled sound of music poured in.

"So, we've reached your destination." Garo encouraged.

"Thank you." Said Jane and stepped out of the cabin. "Oh, and – " she turned around confusedly for further advice.

"The second door." Garo pointed, blocking the closing doors. "The source of this terrible noise." He added, gesturing with his chin.

"Yeah. Thanks!" Jane called and raised her small hand to knock on the incriminated door. An inch before the surface, she stopped and hesitated. What am I doing here?

"Oh! Wait!" Garo exclaimed, his tone rather annoyed, and escaped the elevator cabin and walked over to her. Then he pounded on the dark, wooden door a few times. "That should work." He winked and moved quickly back to the elevator. Jane managed to catch a glimpse of the old man grinning and waving at her before he got out of view. Then she turned back to the wooden door. The music was turned down.

"Tek?" Leonard's voice could be heard from the inside.

"Um – "

"I told you to come in half an hour!" Leonard shouted in annoyance, apparently approaching the door.

And Jane decided not to procrastinate this any longer. She bit her lip, entwined her fingers behind her back and started toward the stairway in a hurry. She could hear the door unlock –

"Jane?"

Crap. She closed her eyes tightly and stopped at the first stair.

"Jane? It's you?" he called after her. She turned slowly and saw him viewing her through the slightly opened door.

"Yes, unfortunately." She bowed her head and walked back slowly.

"Unfortunately?" He wondered. "I mean," he paused nervously and raised one hand to scratch at his temple. "I see… I'm sorry about the computation. Didn't make it in time, I know. But I'm working on it, promise."

"What?" Jane frowned in confusion at first. "No!" she let out a reassuring chuckle then. "I, um… I was just passing by and thought I might come and see you." She shrugged, smiling. "Nothing work-related. Promise. But I don't want to disturb you, either." she bowed her head again, clutching at the edges of her sleeves.

"You? No way!" He smiled back. "So – do you want to come in?" He offered, his usually steady voice gaining a nervous shadow.

"Yeah." She nodded, blushing lightly, and stepped forward. She expected the door to open, however...

"Yes, um… Could you please wait there?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. "Just a sec, okay?"

"Uh. Yeah, I guess." She grinned in response. After that, the slit in the entrance space offered her a short glimpse of the pale skin of his back. Oh. He's shirtless. Jane realized and tried to remember when it had been last since she saw a shirtless man. And she remembered that exact moment. It had been more than three years ago. A certain fair-haired warrior. A prince. Alien. The stealer of her heart. Three years? She sighed, touching the door surface.

The sound of empty bottles tingling reached her ears and woke her up. "Leonard?" she called, not entering.

"Just a minute!" He sounded.

"Oh. So it's a minute now? I believe I heard something about seconds…" She smirked, digging her thumbnail in the door material.

"Yes, yes. I'm deeply sorry, I just – I had no idea you would come." his muted voice answered swiftly.

"Well, I'm sorry, but… Look, I'm not here to inspect your room. So no need for any cleaning frenzy."

She heard him chuckle. "Yeah, that's nice to hear. Just a moment, please."

"Hey! I'm coming in." she stated firmly and began to open the door. "You know, I lived in a trailer once. One could have witnessed a real mess there."

"Jane!" he let out a desperate laugh.

"Sorry, even the minute has passed. Your time's up." She stated as if adamantly and entered. And the very first thing that struck her was how small the room was. She looked to the right at first.

Right beside the entrance, there was a small chest of drawers that was separating a modest bed from the entrance area. Said piece of furniture was clearly preventing the inhabitant of this room from tossing his things right onto the bed after coming in. The head of the bed was situated in the corner - the wall on one side, a nightstand with a tiny lamp on the other. Then there was a table in the next corner of the room. Jane noticed the familiar white laptop on the desk, along with a few empty bottles, a half-eaten box of chocolate ice-cream and several piles of papers and textbooks.

The walls of the room were white, however, to disturb this uniformity, the areas above the table and bed were adorned with all different sorts of pictures, photographs and posters.

Then, in the opposite wall, there was a window, and the street lights were coming through a simple white curtain. It was opened fully, the curtain moving slowly in the air. Next to the window stood a black box that Jane recognized as a tiny fridge. Then a large bookshelf that was partly filled with books and document folders; partly with a CD collection and a small stereo with wooden loudspeakers. And finally, the next corner and a large wardrobe on the left side - it was wide open as a certain lean man who wore just a pair of worn green sweatpants was trying to stuff it with a heterogeneous mixture of clothing, using primarily his legs to do so.

Holding onto the upper frame of the wardrobe, he peeked over his shoulder. "Sorry." He apologized, chuckling lightly, and rubbed the back of his head. Then he turned swiftly back to the pile of clothes and picked up a white t-shirt, smelled it, then tossed it back and reached into the wardrobe for a fresh one. It was a simple black t-shirt with a reddish imprint that looked like some tour dates.

"That's…" Jane uttered as she watched the skin of his back disappear behind the dark textile. She caught a glimpse of something strange. A white line that ran from the shoulder, across the ribs and spine and down to his hip. It looked like… A scar?

"What?" Leonard grinned, turning around finally. Then he looked at his t-shirt, stretching it to have a better view. "Yeah, it's a pity. It got rubbed and washed out too soon. But it still holds the precious memories." He remarked at the 'Megadeth' sign on the front. "Sorry, but this is actually the last clean piece left, I'm afraid. Apart from the clothes for tomorrow, as you can see." He murmured at the pile and resumed stuffing it into the wardrobe.

"Leonard, just leave that laundry. I think I can handle the sight of it." Jane protested playfully. Then she stretched her arms and turned slowly around to have another detailed look at the room. And well, apart from the laundry there was not much one could call a mess. The room was just too small, that was it.

Her eyes stopped at the small gallery above the table and bed. Apart from a landscape painting in the wooden frame that had seemingly belonged to this room before, there were several charcoal drawings, photos of different sizes and on the wall right above the bed hung a big poster of an unknown nebula. Or at least Jane was not able to identify it at first.

She was not sure which picture to pick to lay her eyes on first. So she decided to turn back to Leonard, who seemed to have completed his cleaning task. "Um – " she shrugged.

"I'm listening?" He said, coming closer and putting on a light smile.

"Please excuse my confusion, but where exactly is all that promised mess?" She tilted her head, darting a sideways glance at him.

His smile became more obvious and mischievous as he approached her, crossing his arms. "It's still there." He answered silkily. "Your sudden visit just forced me to veil it all with my magic, so the regular mortals could not see it."

"Hm." Jane answered, playing along. She folded her arms, too, let a frown on her face and looked meaningfully at the wardrobe. "Interesting. But it seems it rather did not work with the laundry."

"That's one explanation." He agreed unfathomably.

"And the other one is..?" she asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Either my magic isn't working properly or you are not a regular mortal." He replied, his voice getting quieter.

"Now, that's a question, right?" she smiled, dropping her sight. After that, neither of them spoke. Still smiling lightly, Jane felt the blood rush to her cheeks. What is going to happen now? She asked herself. He must be wondering why I came here. Well, why?

And so she waited, listening to the muted sound of music.

„…Sun
Come shine my way
May healing waters bury all my pain…"

"What are we listening to, by the way?" she murmured after a moment, raising her gaze. The look in his eyes reminded her of their first meeting. That immeasurable, intriguing green. His eyes were reflecting something she could not name; but she was quite certain that this time, the sadness had mostly faded away.

"Dream Theater." He said and blinked.

"Hm." She nodded once, curling the lower lip and turning her look away.

"Familiar?" His eyebrow went slightly up.

"Kind of." Jane admitted, happy to be able to response.

"Oh." Was all he said at first. "Could you elaborate this, please?" His eyes were narrowing in expectation.

"Well." she let out a short, silent laugh. "Petrucci. He's their guitarist, right?"

"Correct." He smiled with a hint of disbelief. "How did you know?"

"Believe it or not," folding her arms in front of her, Jane narrowed her eyes as well, "I happen to possess his album. By accident, but - there were times I had been listening to it almost every day."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. There's… Sort of a mathematical perfection in it. Helps your brain absorb new stuff."

"Er…" he grinned widely. "We're lucky my friend isn't here. He'd be probably asking you to marry him by now."

"Wha-"

"Anyway. I'm impressed as well." He teased, swaying forward.

"Yeah." She nodded, watching him warily. "You better."

"So," after another moment of heavy silence, he joined his hands at the back of his head and showed a little, insecure smile. "Are you… hungry or something?" he asked.

"No." Jane answered. "I've eaten a while ago."

"Good!" he said and clapped his palms together. "That's actually very fortunate." His smile widened as he bent down to the fridge and opened it, "'Cause it seems like someone stole all the food from here."

Jane moved to have a look. "Hm. So a food-burglar?"

"Yes, exactly. Could you believe it?" he turned to give her a half-hearted, grossed out look.

"Terrible." Jane sighed in a playful agreement. "But whoever it was, he doesn't seem to be a beer-burglar." She pointed out, referring to the last remaining item in the fridge, which happened to be a bottle of beer.

"That's rather strange, right?" he wondered. "Hm?" he said ten, offering the bottle to Jane.

She hesitated. "And what about you?"

"I have one opened on the table..."

"Oh. Then why not?" she agreed and took the bottle after Leonard had opened it for her.

Then he stood up, walked to the table and waited for Jane to follow. "Please, take a seat, lady Jane." He gestured at the bed and sat in the chair, folding one leg underneath him.

She stepped closer to the bed, took of her shoes and sat down cross-legged.

"So?" He said, his tone almost colorless. "What are we drinking to?" He lifted his bottle of beer and looked at Jane, curious.

She looked down. "So… To the most mysterious secrets of the universe." She said, raised her sight and her bottle as well.

"Very well." He said simply and took a sip. Jane, realizing she was rather thirsty, gulped down a good third of the bottle content at once and sighed. When she laid her gaze upon him once again, she found she was being watched with a great curiosity. She bit her lip and smiled, then looked over her shoulder and viewed the large photograph of the mysterious nebula on the wall behind her.

"I'll probably sound like a complete ignorant now, but what is it? I mean, some shapes seem familiar to me, but…" she gestured with her hand to help the unspoken words out, but in vain.

"Mm." he took another sip. "What's your guess?"

Jane shifted in her position to have a better point of view. "It looks – it reminds me of the Helix in a way, but then again…" she swayed back and forth. "It has some features of the Rosette."

He remained silent, and just blew lightly into the bottle neck, making it resonate. Suddenly she turned to him, eyes wide. "Is it..?"

"Precisely." He purred, entertained. "Both of them."

"I knew it." She smiled and bent forward to have a look at the opposite, lower corner of the poster. "Little Prince's Home, by L.W." she read aloud. "Nice."She judged. "Can I ask for one, too?" she pleaded, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"That depends if lady Jane has been a good girl."

She half-smirked, half-opened her mouth to speak up, but then sat back, leaning her side against the wall with the picture. "That depends on who's asking."

"Hm." He smiled faintly, and brought the other knee up and rested his cheek on it. "Have I done something bad?" he asked, his look all but startled and innocent.

"Maybe."

"Oh. I'm rather anxious." He raised his head and leaned back, his toes wrapped around the seat's edge. "Do tell."

Jane cleared her throat and looked down. Don't you dare bring this up. Don't..! "I've been told," Crap. "that you're quite fond of welcoming ladies in this room. Is it true?" she tried, twisting the bottle in her hands.

He let out a short laugh, which made Jane look at him askance. "Seems like Mr. Barnes wishes for another little talk with me." He said.

"The receptionist? He seems to like talking to everyone." Jane added, smiling lightly. "But the question is – where's the truth?"

"And what do you think, dear Jane?"

"I asked first."

He studied her for a while before answering. "You want the truth?"

"Nothing else."

"So be it." He smirked. "Do you remember certain Miss Lewis appearing at your front door in the night last Friday? Or Saturday, more precisely."

"What?" Jane moved forward, snorting in disbelief. "It was… I mean, I wondered where she had gotten that drunk. And more importantly, with whom." Tilting her head inquisitively, Jane slithered closer.

"Um," sounded Leonard, raising a finger carefully. "I fear it was with Tek and me. Here. Actually, Tek fell asleep very soon, leaning against that cabinet… Around midnight, I think. So it was just me and Darcy, then."

A sudden wave of uneasiness flooded Jane's chest. "I see." She uttered, trying to maintain an unaffected tone. "But…" confused, she furrowed her eyebrows. "She got home, in the end." Jane murmured and paused.

"Apparently."

"She could not even talk." Jane shook her head and snorted, reviving the memory. "So I did not even try to ask her what had happened."

"I assume she wasn't too talkative the next day, either."

"No, she wasn't." Jane agreed somewhat bitterly. "To be honest, I didn't make many attempts to make her explain it… Which taxi driver took her home, by the way? They just let her literally hang on the doorknob."

"Um," Leonard pursed his lips and rubbed the back of his head.

"It was you?"

"And what if I was?" One dark eyebrow went slightly up.

"You?"

"Well – what I was to do? I wasn't even able to hold the mobile phone, let alone dial a number!" he waved his hand to support his defense. "Moreover, she started bringing up… certain topics." he dropped his stare with a hint of a smile, clutching his toes at the edge of the seat. "So I knew it was the high time for her to go home." Silence. "See? It wasn't even the whole night." He added then. "There's nothing to accuse me of."

"Certain topics?" Ignoring his last remark, Jane asked and leaned back against the wall, bringing the bottle to her lower lip.

"Yeah."

"Please, elaborate."

"Let's see," he sighed, buying some time. "Certain… Pleasurable activities."

"Such as..?"

"Sex." He said simply, seemingly accepting the challenge and not willing to surrender. After finishing his beer in one gulp, he viewed her, curious about her next step.

Lowering her eyes, Jane swallowed and remained silent. Well, it wasn't that shocking after all, right? She knew what he meant from the start. It was just him voicing it…

"Please correct me if I'm wrong, but," finally, she began in a slightly unsteady voice, "that made you want to bring her home?" she looked in his eyes. "That's rather unexpected. Maybe even high-minded."

He looked briefly at the table desk, then grabbed a black pen and started toying with it mindlessly. "I don't know what it was," he replied, "But there's a golden rule one should better not forget."

"That is?" She asked and took a sip.

"No sex with drunk women." He said frankly, and putting on a sweet, cunning smile, he looked up.

As the weight on her chest disappeared with each heart-beat, Jane smiled and adorned her face with a blush. Licking her lips, she drummed her finger nails on the bottle surface.

"Okay." She said, faltering lightly. "I'll keep that in mind."

"You better." He murmured back.

And then, Jane really did not know what to say. For a moment she was not even able to look at him. But eventually she did - grinning widely and unable to stop the progressing blush. "Don't worry. No 'certain topics' on the horizon." She reassured quietly.

"Oh. I'm relieved." Not looking at her, he replied somewhat hoarsely, smiling and rotating the pen on the desk as if it was the most urgent thing in the universe.

"That's good to hear." Feeling as if the wall behind her transformed into a heating, Jane looked down.

The weight of the electrifying silence that followed was unbearable. Letting her eyes wander around the room, Jane stirred in her position and sighed deeply.

Leonard cleared his throat. "So. Any other suggestions?"

She bit her lip, thinking about what to reply and how. She was sure her voice would fail her. Still, something must have been said. "Yes." Finally, Jane cleared her throat as well. "One suggestion. Perhaps you could stop fiddling with that pen for a start."

"Sorry." He smiled apologetically and tossed the thing back onto the desk, which action caused the screen saver of his laptop to disappear.

"Hey! What's that?" Jane woke up suddenly, stood her bottle on the nightstand and jumped to her feet.

"What?"

"That!" Getting closer, she pointed at the screen. "That's Wolfenstein! So no calculation!"

"And?" he asked innocently, rocking in his chair. "If I recall correctly, you haven't come for any kind of inspection. Right, Dr. Foster?" smiling slyly, he fired back.

"Yeah, so firstly, don't call me that." She crossed her arms and drew nearer.

"Call you what?" He teased, folding his arms, too, and swayed back a bit more.

"You know very well." she murmured, leaning back against the desk.

"Oh, do I?"

"Yes. And stop rocking in that chair." she commanded.

"That was 'secondly'?"

"No, that was a little side-note." Biting on her lip, she looked at the chair legs and wrapping her ankle around one, she made the chair rock forward.

"But it looks like you really mean it." Not letting his eyes off her, Leonard decided to give in and let the chair fall slowly to the original position. "Are you really that worried about my safety?"

"No! Er, I mean… I just don't like rocking in the chair. In general. That's all."

"I see. And what is 'secondly' then?"

"Secondly," she said, turning around to grab the ice-cream box, "the main thing is that you lied to me." She continued, putting the spoon in her mouth. "You said," she mumbled then, "That you're currently working on the calculation, right?"

"Right. But aren't you a bit brash, Dr. Foster?" he asked, darting a meaningful look at the ice-cream box in her hands.

"Am I?"

"Yes. Plus, there's still someone's unfinished beer on my nightstand. Sounds familiar?"

Jane shrugged. "Well, um… I've just spotted an unfinished ice-cream on your table, so I decided to help with this one first." She said in an innocent voice and plunged another spoonful into her mouth. "One thing after another."

"Hm." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "All right." He chuckled, seemingly giving up.

"Well, Mr. Wednesday. Don't think you're going away with this. Justify yourself." Jane prompted, smiling and licking the spoon.

Sighing deeply, Leonard moved his finger over the touchpad, making another window pop-up. Tiny white letters were shining on the pitch-black background. "See, ma'am?" rolling his eyes in Jane's direction, he tapped his fingers against the keyboard. "The ideas are not springing up in my brain in a continuous manner, so I enjoy killing a few Nazis in the meantime. Ergo I was not lying about this or about anything else. Here we go – Leonard Wednesday, justified. Dot." He declared and looked at her, waiting for an answer.

"Sounds reasonable." Jane shrugged and looked at the screen, inspecting the calculation layout. "Hm."

"What is it?"

"Just… No, that's okay." Jane blurted out suddenly. "Nothing work-related, right? And it looks pretty fine, so, um… May - may I hear a commentary to the pictures above us?"

"Which ones exactly?"

"Uh... all of them..? Please?" She asked and smiled, putting down the ice-cream box. "Sorry. I hope I haven't eaten half of your dinner." She chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so tragic about that." He said and helped himself to the ice-cream as well. "Tek is supposedly working on the best-quality Indian food I ever had, so… No worries, I won't go to the bed hungry."

"Promise?"

"Promise." He said, licking the spoon and placing his intense gaze upon her once again. Jane just smiled in reply.

"So, where would you like to begin?" Leonard asked and got up.

"Well – " Jane shrugged, embracing herself, and looked up to have a more detailed view of the charcoal drawings attached to the wall in front of her. "Are these yours? I mean, did you draw them?" she asked, pointing at the precise captures of town buildings, people in the streets, trees in bloom, and a picture that looked like a view from a very large window.

"No, I did not." Leonard sighed, putting his hands in the pockets. "I received them as a gift."

"From whom?" Jane asked, her mind searching for occasions when possibly a guy receives pictures from another guy.

"From a very good friend." Said Leonard calmly, putting on that little roguish smile.

"The one who would have wanted to marry me?" Jane offered, smiling lightly.

"Ah… No, I think this one wouldn't – Actually, I'm not sure how this person would react to you." He replied.

"What do you mean?" Jane asked, and that heavy, bitter blossom unfolded within her chest once again. For some reason, she felt as if everything had just shattered and fallen down in piles of rubble. She snorted internally at her own foolishness.

Of course he brought Darcy home.

She bit her lip and held her head up, inspecting the photographs, looking for that kind of picture. With him holding a strikingly beautiful, fashionably dressed, tall and slender woman by the waist. His girlfriend. Blonde or a brunette? Or red? Her eyes flew over the photographs in a second, almost as though she was afraid to raise any suspicion. And well, perhaps it had been a too short moment to find anything particular, but Jane was quite sure she hadn't found anything that could have resembled a girlfriend. Or she wished so.

Taking a breath, she stepped closer to one of the drawings and looked for any sign of a name or an indication of…

But then she found it. A sign that belonged to the Chinese or Japanese alphabet. And below it – "Mr. White?" she read the charcoal signature, grabbing a snippet of hope. "Is it his name? Or – pen-name?"

"Both. In a way."

So they might be a guy after all. "Oh Lenny, stop being so mysterious." Jane peeked over her shoulder, putting on a little, hopeful, teasing smile.

"Stop calling me that, Dr. Foster." Declared Leonard, folding his arms in front of him.

"Hey!" Jane retorted impishly, turning around. She stared into his joyful eyes for a moment before pricking her forefingers into his ribs.

Seemingly unprepared, he let out a rather cute chuckle, and caught her wrists reflexively. "Now, that was pretty unfair, Miss Foster. And uncool." He said.

"No, it was well-deserved." Jane objected, her heartbeat drumming in her ears as he loosened his grip but refused to let go.

"So, uh – who's Mr. White?" she asked, lowering her eyes.

"His name is Shiro." He said softly, letting her hands slip out of his, brushing a thumb over the edge of her wrist. "As a regular word, it means 'white'."

Okay. Guy confirmed. "He seems to be a very sensitive person." She noted.

"Interesting thought." He mused aloud, running a forefinger over his chin. "He usually draws when he feels pissed off."

"Ah." Jane smiled. "And why did he give these pictures to you? To remember him?"

"Perhaps." Leonard shrugged. "He'd done plenty of similar drawings. I think he rather wanted to get rid of them."

"Surely not." Jane assumed, and viewing the pictures, she sat on the bed. Her sight focused on the photographs on the wall above. Closer to the bed, there were pictures of the Greenhill family members, the largest one a family photograph with all three children, little Anya being just a baby. A series of various snapshots from their everyday life encircled the big photo - Jane had to smile at a winter picture of Leonard sitting propped against a huge snowman, with Anya in his lap and Lena and Daniel snuggling against him from each side. She snickered and got to her knees to have a closer look. It was quite unbelievable how good-looking Leonard had been, even when wearing a green, knitted winter cap, the long tresses of his hair framing his face.

"What is it?" He asked, coming closer and snatching the abandoned bottle of beer from the nightstand.

"Nothing." Jane grinned widely. "This picture is just…" she shrugged, raising her hands palms-up, "Incredibly adorable. That's all." Jane explained and turned to him.

"Mm." he sounded, taking a sip.

"Mr. Wednesday, this is mine!" she protested playfully, reaching out. He dodged her movement easily and swallowed, keeping the smile in place.

"I know, Dr. Foster." He teased and then let himself be hit with the pillow. "Wait! I am merely returning the favor." He protested, a wide smile brightening his features. "You know – your little help with the ice-cream."

"Ah! Yes, of course." She pretended to suddenly remember the situation, then folded her legs under her and leaned back against the wall. She then seized the pillow and rested it on her lap.

She raised her head up to the pictures once more. There were larger images higher on the wall, and the family photographs started to mingle with pictures of other people; friends and schoolmates, Jane guessed.

Her stare stopped at the three largest photographs at the top of the wall-gallery. The first showed three companions standing around a huge stone with metal plaques. And unmistakably, one of the guys was Leonard, wearing a simple black hoodie and dark jeans; his hands in pockets and the dark hair bound in partial ponytail. In front of him, propped against the stone, stood a man considerably shorter. His shoulder-long, raven hair was wavy, but Jane felt it was rather unnatural, since the guy clearly was of Asian origin. Oh, could it be Mr. White? And clearly, it must have been one of the friends she had spotted once on the desktop of Leonard's laptop, as the man standing on the other side of the stone. That one wore a brown leather jacket and jeans, and there was a white scarf wrapped around his neck. His incredibly long, blonde hair ran down his arm and side, the ends glittering in the sunshine. And his figure, his beard, his eyes, the hair color, the confident and joyous expression… It all reminded her so strongly about Thor she found it rather disturbing.

"In person or in photograph, he always wins all the girls' attention." Leonard murmured and sat down beside the bed, propping his elbow on it.

"Ah – " Jane opened her mouth and blurted out a nervous laugh. "The blonde one? Well, he just... He reminds me of someone I knew." She explained.

"Now, does he?" Leonard asked, quite intrigued. "And who was that, if I may ask?"

"An old friend." Jane replied, studying her entwined fingers. "We, uh… we met by chance when he was on a… on a journey. Yes. And he stopped here for a few days." She went on, trying hard to keep her tone as natural and relaxed as she could. She looked into his eyes. There was something like a little light, some kind of expectation.

"But I'm afraid I don't know much about him." Dropping her gaze eventually, she concluded.

"What was his name?" he asked very quietly.

Jane stared blankly at the pillow surface, struggling to hide the sudden panic. This was the first time someone asked her about his name. But there was the restriction. She was forbidden to talk about anything related to the mysterious events that had taken place in this city three years before.

She cleared her throat. "Donald." She peeped eventually, clutching her fingers to stop them from fidgeting, and inhaled. Then she remained completely still and just raised her eyes to check if this answer had been accepted. And she found that Leonard was frowning and rubbing the neck of the bottle with his thumbnail. He looked up and their eyes met. And as soon as the first wrinkle appeared at the corner of his eye, they both burst into a merry chuckle.

"Ehm – " said Leonard, wiping his mouth with the wrist, "This definitely fits a person who looks similar to Bret." He coughed lightly and displayed a sly smile. "Perhaps I should try calling him that. I'm sure he would love it."

"Bret?" Jane awakened. "Could it be the one who likes harsh music? As you told me once?"

"Yeah, that's him." Leonard sighed.

"I see. And where is that place?" Jane asked, gesturing at the picture. She recognized some signs on the stone, but she could not read the letters.

"Norway." He answered simply.

"No way!" Jane exclaimed and smiled as soon as she realized she clearly had managed to make him laugh.

"Yeah." He nodded then. "Bret has a part of his family there so he invited us there last summer break. We stayed for two weeks, made lot of trips… Great country. Generous and friendly people, everyone speaks English, beautiful nature… Makes one feel at home."

"That's not fair!" Jane whined in response. "I always wanted to go there. I'm so envious!"

"Not fair?" he repeated, raising the eyebrows. "But it is hardly my fault you haven't been to Norway. Wouldn't you agree... Dr. Foster?"

"Stop calling me that!" she commanded, frowning half-heartedly and hugging the pillow. But the frown was difficult to keep in place, since the scent from the pillow that reached her senses was… She could not describe it at first. It was basically a mixture of shampoo and sweat, but she loved it. Jane struggled hard not to bury her face in the fabric right in front of his eyes, but noted to herself to do that later, at the first opportunity. Jane, you're going crazy… Oh, whatever.

"Uh – and what kind of stone was it?" She resumed the talk, urging her brain to choose the first indifferent question available.

"To be honest I don't have a clue what type of rock it was, but – sorry… " he paused and smiled apologetically at her meaningful scowl. "It's the memorial at the Norwegian side of the Old Svinesund bridge, which goes over the border fjord between Norway and Sweden." He explained calmly, in his usual soft tone.

"I see." Jane nodded, not knowing what exactly to say. "And," she began after a silent moment, "the shorter guy – is that Mr. White?"

"Correct." He agreed, then cleared his throat meaningfully. "To be more precise: on the left – meet Mr. Bret Larsson; on the right in front – Nakamune Shiro-san. And... I think you might have seen the third guy somewhere." He muttered finally.

"Yeah." Jane nodded, narrowing her eyes at the picture, pretending to study Leonard's appearence there. "Probably I have. On the TV I think. He's quite famous, you'd be surprised." She added with a little smile and turned to him, curious about his reaction.

"Yes, you're right." He straightened, playing his part, his expression turning serious and thoughtful. "I remember now." He brushed a finger over his chin, his eyes narrowed as well. "Isn't he that genius super-villain wanted in over fifty countries?"

"No doubt he is." Fighting the widening smile, Jane viewed him, trying hard to sound serious.

"Hm. Then it must be very dangerous to stay anywhere near him." He stated slyly, resting his chin in his hand, propping the elbow on the bed.

"Well," Jane shrugged, studying the pillow surface. "Nothing for regular mortals, I guess." She said and bit her lip upon noticing she made him smile once again. "So, um – the next picture is from Norway as well?" She asked then and looked at him. And he stared back. His eyes were curious, clear and intense. It seemed like he was hesitating; reflecting on something important. Then finally he blinked, looking down.

"Yes." He muttered and lifted his sight up to the picture rather reluctantly. It was a beautiful landscape, capturing high mountains surmounted with snow and a crystal-clear, blue lake in between.

"That's Jotunheim." He said and turned to look at her.

"Ah…" she opened her mouth blankly as a fish, getting all stiff. "It's… Almost unbelievable such a place is located on Earth." She breathed out finally.

He watched her with a hint of suspicion for a moment; then focused on the picture again. "Yes. A wondrous place, indeed. Home of the giants…" he sighed.

"Perhaps I should make something like a summer break this year, too." She repeated his sigh, pinching the pillowcase, relaxing a bit. "But tell me, what's the last large photo about?" Jane asked, raising one eyebrow.

"And what does it look like?" he said and twitched the corner of his mouth. "Just me and friends." He mumbled into the bottle before taking the final sip.

"Yeah, but…" Jane acknowledged, inspecting the picture. There was Leonard, in line with other four people. Two of them Jane recognized as Bret and Shiro. They were all holding by the shoulders, something like a group-hug, their faces beaming with enthusiasm and exhaustion at the same time. They were all sweating - Bret's face was a bright shade of pink-red, few strands of his golden hair stuck to his face, one tress hanging in the corner of his mouth. Leonard's hair was loose and tousled - in quite a similar condition as Shiro's. The Japanese guy appeared to be shirtless, the sweaty skin reflecting the lights, and wore a folded bandanna with the Japanese military flag motif on his forehead with two drumsticks tucked in it at the back of his head. The background was dark, but the scene seemed to be illuminated by intense lights.

"But where is it? You look like standing... on a stage?" Jane wondered, creasing her forehead. "Yes, it's definitely – Oh. Wait! You have – you have a band?" she beamed, turning her eager stare to him.

"Huh." His lips curled into an evasive smile.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jane chirped, slithering closer.

"Mhm." He coughed. "Something of… that sort. Yes." He went on, murmuring.

"Hey! That's pretty awesome!" Jane marveled and leaned back against the wall again, cuddling the pillow tightly and finally taking the chance to dig her nose into it.

"Is it?" he looked up, lightly amused. "And is there any chance I'll get my pillow back this evening?"

Busted. "That depends." Jane tried, burying her face even further in order to hide her blush. "But don't think you're going to gloss over it! You're telling me more. Now." She murmured into the fabric.

"There's actually not much to talk about." He waved his hand and let out a sigh. "Bret and Shiro both had studied at Berklee before, so… They are quite experienced in this field. When we moved to our apartment they started practising together; then invited a bass player – that weird guy with long dreadlocks," he said, glancing at the photo "and gradually it evolved into, let's say regular performances in a nearby pub... I just made a fatal mistake to participate once. And since that time Bret insisted I joined them." He recounted, inspecting the dull pattern of the carpet. "He wanted to return to Berklee after the first year at MIT. He had been accepted actually." Leonard shook his head, letting out a rather bitter sigh.

"But?"

"But I… We had a talk."

"You persuaded him not to go there?"

"Well…" Leonard stopped her swiftly, "In a way. I promised not to waste my talent if he was going to stay. And he accepted it."

"I see." She said softly, cradling her chin in her palm. "So, Bret's the guitarist?"

"Yeah. Excellent."

"Then… You're the vocalist, right?" she smiled roguishly.

"Yes." He answered, giving her a quick, sly glance. "And no, I'm not going to perform anything right now."

"Aw! What a pity. But then I'm forced to keep your pillow as a compensation."

"Okay." He let out a soft laugh. "I'll ask the landlady for another one, then."

"Yeah, you should. But tell me," she began, shifting into a more serious tone. "Why are you so – I don't know – hesitant about it? I mean, having a band, that's amazing! You seem to be kind of insecure, or uncomfortable with it… But you appear to have had the time of your life." She pointed out, glancing at the photograph.

"Well, it is exciting in a certain fashion, but above all it is a complication. Or was. First of all we don't even have a stable line-up. Not to mention that Bret and I were just distracting each other."

"Distracting?"

"Mhm." he dropped his eyes, his voice getting quiet. "He always wanted to devote himself to music. It was his original goal, his lifelong dream. And I kept him from chasing after it by making him stay at MIT." He snorted. "Which meant reminding him constantly about the lectures and making him learn for the exams… And the other way around, this whole thing was always keeping me from my duties. So we just ended up stuck in the middle; in between those two points, doing neither of the things properly." He explained, his hands moving and gesturing to support the speech.

"Well," Jane intervened, snorting slightly. "Excuse me if I'm wrong, but what exactly you find improper on your studies? You got the degree just like that," she snapped her fingers. "And now you're a postgraduate with a very promising future. You're a major – no, a crucial part of this project, and now you're even supported by Stark, which…" she waved her hands, "I mean, what else do you want? And even if Stark's going to be interested in something else again and leave, I can hardly imagine a better experience. The doors of every company or institute that aims on physics and technology are open wide for you."

"Yeah. Amazing, isn't it?" He replied with a shadow of sarcasm, breathing out lengthily, and bowed his head. "It all just cost me a lot of energy, though. It wasn't as easy as you depict it. I didn't want to disappoint in the first place. And I was afraid I would."

"Who would be disappointed?" Jane shook her head in confusion, frowning.

"Mike and Julie. And the kids. They were so proud when I was selected for the research fellowship at CERN at first." He murmured into his palm, leaning against the bed again. "They were even planning for the trip there."

"Oh!" Jane cut in. "I see! And now they were forced to visit the boring New Mexico instead of Europe? Do I get it correctly?"

"It's not the case." He replied, a shadow of nervousness and exasperation flowing through his tone.

"Isn't it? Are you sure? Well, maybe they should realize that you have your own life."

"Yes, Dr. Foster? Do I?" He snapped, giving her an irritated, angry look. "Then could you perhaps tell me what kind of life it is? Or was?"

"Well, I'm sorry but… You should be allowed to do what you want. Not just…" she shrugged. "I mean, their late son gave MIT a try as well, am I right?"

"Yes, but I can't see any connection here." He murmured indifferently, looking elsewhere.

"You can't?" Jane reacted. "I actually think that there's a connection of a great relevance. The fact that they helped you doesn't mean that you should fill his place in return."

"I'm in their debt!" he objected, staring at her almost accusingly.

"With your life?" she leaned in, raising her eyebrows. "I thought that saving one's life and a general charity is something natural, something that does not require to be repaid!"

"They have done a lot more!"

"Yeah, because they wanted – "

"Would you please stop analyzing it?!" he exclaimed suddenly, his voice so strong and adamant it nearly startled her.

And she just sat there, unmoving, watching him. This was the first time he shouted at her. And it was unpleasant, almost humiliating. His stare was very firm and pressing; she had no idea how much authority he could summon from the undiscovered lands of his personality. She felt like a disobedient child. During a long moment she was completely unable to break the eye-contact, but eventually, she dared to blink.

And realizing all her previous words and their real meaning, she let out a baffled, desolated breath and looked down. "I'm sorry, Leonard." she uttered silently. "I shouldn't say those things, I – I'm deeply, terribly sorry. I didn't want to offend you or your family."

Silence.

"No." he said at last, dropping his look as well. "I am sorry, Jane. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you. Actually - you may think more about the words you say the next time, but in fact I fear… " his voice trailed away.

Jane looked at him immediately. She knew what he was about to say. The truth hurts the most, after all. Indeed. "No. No, it's my fault," she said promptly, her voice quiet and soft. "I'm not too skilled when it comes to communication with other human beings, you know. Some things just shouldn't be touched. Certainly not in this way." She viewed him intently for a long, quiet moment.

"Therefore," Jane chose to break the silence first, "I'm afraid... that I'll have to return the pillow. I'm a bad girl, I don't deserve to keep it." She tried and bit her lip.

He nodded, the perfect poker face in place, his forehead lightly furrowed. "I'm glad I didn't have to say it first."

"Mhm." She smiled, observing his softening features with great relief. He remained silent, just returning the look, the intriguing twinkle of his stunning eyes ignited once again. Her smile widened into a grin as she lowered her stare.

"Did you bid farewell to your long locks, by the way?" she murmured, darting a quick sideways look.

"No." he said simply, removing the rubber band that held his hair together, and ran the slender fingers through the dark tresses. "Is there any particular reason?" he asked nonchalantly and smirked.

"Oh, there is. The poker game tomorrow. Tony Stark included. And maybe Eric – Eric is very good." Jane stressed out, raising the forefinger. "There's that bet, have you forgotten?"

"Of course I haven't. But still, I cannot see any reason to get worried about my hair." He stated calmly, viewing one raven strand clasped between his fingers.

"I really wouldn't be that sure." Opposed Jane.

"I would." He claimed softly, placing his green stare upon her.

Jane bit her lip, but before the little banter could evolve into anything less or more, they heard a series of knocks on the door. Jane straightened with a start, turning her head after the sound.

"Tek?" Leonard asked loudly, not standing up.

A muted laughter filtered through.

Leonard glanced at Jane, frowning. "Who is it?" he called, jumped to his feet and took two steps toward the entrance. Halting mid-step, he tilted his head and listened.

Then someone literally pounded on the door. "Police! Open the door!" a strict voice demanded. Strict as it was, it still sounded quite familiar. Leonard stepped closer and wrapped his fingers around the doorknob. He bent forward and then opened the door carefully, creating just a thin slit. A row of teeth and incredibly white eyeball shone from the outside. "Hey! Hope you're hungry, dude."

"Tek?" Leonard asked in disbelief, still frowning. "Who's with you?"

"You shouldn't be so hesitant to obey the commands of the men of law, my lad." Tony's voice halted any further questions as the man pushed the door open, staring confidently. Jane was not sure if she should try and hide behind the cabinet attached to the bed or jump to her feet.

"Stark?! You brought Stark?" Leonard scolded Tek, viewing him with sheer disbelief and irritation.

"Hey man, calm down! I met them right there, before your door, that's all." Tek shrugged, his hands sneaking into his pockets. "Ah! Hi, Janey!" he called merrily upon noticing her.

"What's that? We have an intruder!" Stark, currently wearing a very fashionable black tux, replied instead of Jane, pointing at her.

"What intruder?" Jane frowned.

"We said no women..!" Tony arched one eyebrow at Tek, whispering heatedly.

"Tony!" a soft female voice rebuked. Jane smiled. That's Pepper!

"Ah! An intruder!" Leonard called in response to Tony's talk, pointing out the door at Miss Potts.

"This being doesn't count." Tony waved him off. "Ouch!" he protested after being hit with a white evening purse. "Well, dear, this was a clear display of domestic violence. Everyone saw that, right? You're not going away with it this time." He stated, pointing at Pepper, but got hit once more in reply.

"Want some help?" Leonard cut in, smiling as Pepper came into view, and reached out the right hand to take hers. "I'm very pleased to see you again, Ms. Potts." He added merrily. "Please, come in."

"Thank you." She beamed, shaking his hand. "Yes, it's been a while. But I think you can call me Pepper now. And I apologize, we must have disturbed you." She went on, stepping forward and looking at Jane who got to her feet at the remark.

"No, that's okay! I was actually about to leave." Jane explained, approaching the tall woman in beautiful, short white dress. And standing right in front of her, Jane realized once more how tall Pepper was; the high heels making the height difference even more significant.

"Now, were you?" Pepper asked in her cheerful voice, knitted her eyebrows together and tilted her head in suspicion. Her lips twirled as she kept on smiling despite her doubt.

"Were you?" echoed Leonard. Was it a hint of disappointment in his voice?

"Yeah, I've left the shopping in the car. So – " Jane murmured nervously and rubbed at her temple. Being surrounded and inquired by those two Eiffel Towers made her feel too much like a little girl.

"And don't you want to eat the dinner with us?" Tek interferred, stepping into the room, followed by Tony. "I made a lot of food and these two have already eaten." He stressed out, gesturing at Tony and Pepper.

"Thanks Tek, you're too kind, but see… Darcy promised to cook something as well, so I'm afraid there's a portion waiting for me already."

"Hey!" Leonard exclaimed suddenly, frowning at Tony who was holding a cell phone, walking around the room and seemingly making a video. "What's that?" he asked, annoyed, and checked the outer side of the door. "There's no 'Gallery' sign on my door, Stark."

"No? But it should." Tony answered calmly, sounding not much interested in Leonard's complaints. "Five dollars admission minimum." He went on. "Seven with Jane Foster as a permanent exhibit. Or ten, if she wears bikini."

"Anthony!" Pepper exclaimed again, frowning wildly. "And stop this filming. What does it mean?"

"Sorry, no offence." Tony murmured, turning to Leonard. "Come on, Lo, gimme a smile." He commanded and held the smart phone up.

"Lo?" Crossing his arms, Leonard drew his brows together and cocked his head at the word.

"You don't like it?" Tony asked, somewhat surprised.

"No." Leonard shrugged, still frowning. "What makes you think I would?"

"Just… Doesn't matter." Said Tony, hiding his phone into a pocket.

For a moment, Leonard followed Tony's movements with confused eyes. "Uh… Important notice!" He shouted then, clapping his hands to draw everyone's attention. "Can someone finally tell me what the hell the meaning of this gathering is?"

"Ha! Wolfenstein!" Tony shouted enthusiastically as he approached Leonard's desk. And that seemed to be the only answer Leonard would get.

"Okay," Leonard puffed. "Seven dollars each." He stated firmly, crossing his arms and blocking the doorway.

"Well, actually I'm leaving." Jane peeped.

"Of course you're not, dear. Haven't you heard Mr. Stark? You're a permanent exhibit." Leonard aswered simply and leaned against the doorframe.

Jane blushed. "Don't make me do that." she muttered, stepping closer.

"Do what?" He asked, smiling knowingly, as his eyebrows went slightly up.

"Don't make me tell Tony that –"

"Tell me what?" Tony intervened, sneaking closer and leaning against the doorframe at the right angle to Leonard.

"He's ticklish. For a start." Called Tek, who was currently busy inspecting Leonard's CD and DVD collection. "Hey, I found 'Wrath of Khan'. We can watch it after the game." He beamed.

Leonard stared for a second; then straightened warily. "Tek? You're finished." He retorted. "And what game actually?"

"Poker. Kind of foreplay before tomorrow." Murmured Tony, observing Leonard with a curiosity. "What do you say, Mr. Ticklish?"

"I have a work to finish." said Leonard, appearing somewhat reconciled with the raid that had been made on his room.

"It can wait." Jane offered, putting on a rather mischievous smile. Then she tilted her head in Pepper's and Tek's direction. They seemed to have a lively talk in front of the drawings. "I think they aren't going to leave anytime soon, anyway."

"Okay." Leonard sighed, resigned. "Well – you want to play here?" he asked Tony, slightly confused.

"My place, of course." Purred Tony, eyes narrowing in the usual, roguish manner. "We'll bring the food… And there's that spare tequila bottle. Two bottles, actually. Uh, " Tony paused to glance over his shoulder, "Pep feels quite uncomfortable around them, so I need your help with… you know, getting rid of their contents."

"Okay guys, I think I've received enough info for today." Jane twisted a bit, grinning and clasping her hands together. "So I think I'll be making tracks." She looked at unmoving Leonard sideways. "Obviously the gallery is closing so… Would you mind if one of your permanent exhibits leaves?"

"Certainly I would." He muttered, smiling softly. "But if you promise to come back, I shall release you this time."

"Uh, I believe Pep just called after me, sorry guys." Tony said promptly and slipped away. Jane was almost certain she saw him winking.

"Then, um – " Jane began, feeling the blood rush to her face, not able to meet Leonard's gaze, "I promise I'll return."

"Very well." his voice poured over her as he stepped aside and cleared the way. With her eyes still fixated firmly on the ground, she took two steps out. Then turned around and looked up. She could not see his features properly as the corridor was dark and he was standing against the illuminated background, but she could literally feel his stare.

"I'm really sorry about the things I said." She nearly whispered.

"Jane, you don't have to. Let's forget about it, shall we?" he spoke in an equally silent voice.

"Yes." She smiled, nodding her head quickly.

At that, he reached out, and ever so gently brushed a hair tress off her shoulder. The touch was fleeting and hesitant, almost as if he had panicked about his own action.

"Let me..." he began, his voice slightly hoarse, "Text me when you're home."

"Mhm." She nodded once more, brushing her fingertips over his as his hand was returning to his side.

"Because," he resumed, "I want to know what's happening with my precious exhibits."

"I will. Promise." She muttered quietly, not able to stop her smile from widening and the blush from blossoming on her burning cheeks. "Good night, Leonard."

"Good night, lady Jane. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." She breathed nearly inaudibly, then turned and walked to the stairs. He switched the light on for her.

Jane flashed him a blushed smile before descending the first step. He returned it, and as he did, Jane wondered if it was just her or the green of his eyes had just glimmered.

ooOOOoo

Feeling myself slip away
Silently dreaming awake
Hidden memories
Flooding back

I will not grow in the light
Until I pass through the darkest caverns of my heart

(Dream Theater; Bridges in the Sky)