Robotic
In the style of Nicole Stoll and Hermes
For empress24601
She tapped her foot against the tiled floor impatiently. Come on. The one day she couldn't be late for anything, the subways of New York were suddenly running at the pace of a snail. They never did that.
She was frustrated and late and her coffee wasn't doing its job, so she hiked her purse further up her shoulder and turned around to go walk, despite the rain. She passed a musician in the stairs; he was playing a guitar and singing. He was okay, but nothing incredible.
"You say Yes. I say No
You say Stop and I say Go, go, go.
Oh no.
You say Goodbye and I say Hello, hello, hello.
I don't know why you say Goodbye, I say Hello, hello, hello.
I don't know why you say goodbye, I say hello.
She was nearly up the stairs when he called after her.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
She turned around with a sigh.
"Yes sir?" She asked.
"I said hello," he said shrugging and spreading his hands, as if Nicole had just ripped him off.
"That's a lyric," she said clucking her tongue.
"And lyrics can't mean anything?"
She didn't have time for this. She just turned around and walked away.
The next day she walked down the stairs and someone called out, "Did you get to work on time?"
She spun around and saw the same musician as yesterday- curly hair, cheeky smile, blue eyes…
"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did." She said her fingers curling around her cup of coffee. "Thank you."
"Well that's good. Because you looked stressed enough as it was. I couldn't even imagine how freaked out you'd be if you got in late."
She pursed her lips, offended.
"I am not stressed," she said. "Who are you, anyways?"
"My name's Hermes," he said. "What's yours?"
"Nicole," she said sharply.
"Nice name, it suits you really well."
"Thank you," she said before noticing the time on her watch and running down to the station.
For the next month life went on as usual.
Nicole kept going to work at her internship at a lawyer's practice downtown. She kept taking the subway. The musician kept his spot and strummed his guitar and said hello and even dropped some corny jokes every once in a while- corny jokes that just got funnier as time progressed.
Except this week was horrible. Her brother had been diagnosed with lung cancer for the third time, and Nicole had barely been able to sleep through the worry and adjoining guilt of not being able to go back home and take care of Peter. She was waking up late as a result and she couldn't even get her morning coffee, which threw her entire life off balance.
The third day of the week, the musician grabbed her arm in the stairs.
"Nicole, wait a second." He said.
She was about to snap that she was late but he handed her a cup of coffee. Seattle's Best- the one she usually got.
"It's got sugar and milk," he said. "You just stroked me as a sugar and milk kind of person."
Her mouth stayed open for a while. She was a sugar and milk kind of person.
"Thank you so much, Hermes." She said.
"No problem. I'll get you one tomorrow okay? I hope whatever is going on gets better."
She smiled and sighed.
"I hope so too, Hermes." She said. She kept walking and turned around. "And for the record, you're the only person who's told me that- or even noticed anything. Thank you."
"No problem, Sugar and Milk."
And so that's how it went. Three months later when her brother recovered from his operation and reached the NEC mark and Nicole slept well; Hermes still got her a cup of Seattle's Best. Nicole actually started showing up to the station early and in her fancy trench coat and tricky pencil skirt, she'd sit down on the steps next to him and chat as he tuned his guitar.
"You look a lot happier," he pointed out.
"I feel better," Nicole admitted. "My brother's healthy now."
"What did he have?"
"Lung cancer," Nicole sighed. "It was his third time. We thought it'd be it for him, but nope. Still won't let it do him in, thank God."
"He got lucky," Hermes shrugged. "That happens to good people."
"Well if someone deserves it, it'd be Peter." Nicole sighed. "He's my twin brother, you know."
"Older or younger?" Hermes asked.
"Older by five minutes," Nicole said. "The five most decisive seconds of my life. He never lets go of it."
"I know lots of twins like that," Hermes said. "And the twins I know would be right by their twin's side if he was that sick. What gives?"
Nicole sighed. "I couldn't get time off."
"Your boss wouldn't grant you that?" Hermes asked stunned.
"No, he's a bit of an…"
"Asshole?"
"A really invested professional," Nicole said.
"No, asshole." Hermes said. "There's a difference. It's thin, but it's there. Trust me, I've dealt with all of them."
"Is that why you don't work? Why you just play music all day?" Nicole asked.
"Partially, but this is mostly because I like it," Hermes shrugged. "It's not glorious, but I like it."
"Well that's good," Nicole said.
"So why do you work? Why don't you just play music all day?"
"Well, work is how you make money and money is how you live." Nicole said. "It just seems important."
"Sure, but there are lots of jobs that aren't governed by assholes," Hermes said. "Why law?"
Nicole shrugged. "I had good grades and school."
"So?" Hermes asked. "I mean- great for you and everything, like, yay you're a genius, congrats Sugar and Milk. But why did you want to become a lawyer?"
"Peter wasn't good in school," Nicole sighed. "He missed it too much and wasn't very academic to begin with. I covered some ground for him by going into law and making Dad happy."
"Ewe," Hermes asked. "You don't even want to be working for this asshole?"
"Well, it's not that I don't want to…"
"No, that's what it is. You don't want to. You just said so." Hermes said. "Stop your sugar-coating, you have enough of that in your coffee."
Nicole laughed. "I suppose I do. I… I don't know."
"Okay, well… Say your brother would've been, like, a doctor and he'd have discovered the cure for cancer and he'd be a genius and your Dad would be satisfied with the goodness of the world and you'd be off the hook even if you died your hair magenta and married an ex-prisoner that you'd met while smoking weed. What would you do?"
Nicole was shocked. What… what would she do?
"I don't know," she mused. "I drew a lot when I was a kid. It was easy to drag supplies around to hospitals and so forth. I got good at it- like, really good at it. Drawing was a better alternative to pacing when dark things were going on."
"Oh yeah?" Hermes said. "Well then you should do that."
"Nuh-uh," Nicole said with a laugh. "Life doesn't work like that. I'm already at my internship, I've gone through a whole bunch of university already I can't just… let everything go."
"You let go of something you loved," Hermes shrugged. "Isn't that nearly just as much?"
Nicole was stumped by how true that was.
"Keep the cup," she said handing him her empty coffee cup. "You need a new one for your coins, the other one's falling apart. It's pitiful."
"Stratford," Mr Gagnon called.
"Stoll," she reminded him softly, swirling her chair around to face her boss.
"Yes, you. Make three photocopies of this document." He said handing her something.
She was typing up an Excel for him that'd been due yesterday too.
"Yes sir," she said taking the document from his hands.
"And make it quick, I want you back to work on that. I want it wrapped up before the staff meeting this afternoon; I need you to make notes. You have printed out the budget haven't you?"
"Yes sir," she lied.
"Oh good, so you'll also have time to make a few calls for me. I'll leave the numbers on your desk."
"Yes sir," she sighed again.
"Thank you Stevenson."
"My name is Stoll, sir." She sighed. But he didn't hear her, he walked right out.
She stood by the photocopier and pushed the right buttons in the right order… and the damn machine jammed.
For ten minutes she stood there, frustratingly pulling and kicking the machine, shaking it, pushing all the buttons at random…
She groaned and slumped down on top of the machine.
Maybe Hermes was right. Maybe her job did suck a lot.
"You should wear your hair down," Hermes called out to her as she walked away after their chat.
She turned around. "It's unprofessional," she said.
"But it'd look really good on you," he said. "Haven't you ever tried it? Those pins don't look comfortable."
"They're not."
"Well there you go. Wear it down." Hermes said.
She crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking at him to see how serious he was. As usual, he was completely serious- just not about things that people were usually serious about. And then he mimicked her position with a little cluck of the tongue full of attitude and a dramatic roll of his eyes.
She wished that she had sighed, but she actually laughed and pulled the pins from her hair and put them in a pouch inside her purse. The last lock fell on the back of her neck.
"Ta dah," she said spreading her arms as if she'd just made a rabbit appear in a hat.
Hermes left his guitar and walked up to her. He tousled her hair, and his fingers brushed her cheek. They were warm and soft and for some reason all the focus in Nicole's body gravitated straight towards the spot.
"There. Doesn't that feel better?"
She was still electrified by the choc.
"Sure," she said.
"Aren't you freezing?" She asked. Hermes wasn't wearing more than his usual hoody and leather jacket, yet the first snow had fallen over New York last night.
"Sort of," he said. "I didn't know that it was cold out today."
"Didn't you check the weather?" Nicole wondered. He laughed.
"Good one," Hermes smiled. "No thanks, I like winging it."
"Well you sure are good at it," Nicole grumbled. "But you'll freeze and… Oh, just take this."
She unwrapped her scarf from around her neck and handed it to him. He grinned.
"Isn't it unprofessional to show up at work without a scarf? Isn't it inappropriate to hand over your clothes to a musician on the streets who might carry parasites?" Hermes asked.
"Oh, shut up," Nicole said. But she had to smile.
"You're right, your hair's down and that'll keep you warm," he said wrapping the scarf around his neck. "You look very pretty, by the way."
"Thank you," she said. "You look very good yourself. I think the scarf makes the look."
Hermes laughed.
"Smith-"
"Stoll."
"Yes," Mr Gagnon said waving his hand. "I'm going to need you to prepare a brief on the Montgomery case for the lawyer who'll be taking over the case from McDermott when she goes on maternity leave."
"Veronica McMillan, you mean," Nicole said.
"Yes, yes, yes- you know what I mean." Mr Gagnon said. "It'll only be a month but…"
"A month?" Nicole asked.
"Yes. There's a month of paid mat leave."
"You can't do that," Nicole scowled. "That's not nearly enough time!"
"I'm sorry," Mr Gagnon said, "Who are you in this firm?"
Nicole's energy deflated, but her indignation flared. "Your assistant."
"Yes. Does that qualify you to shout out your opinions on how I run my practice if nobody else ever has?"
Nicole clenched her teeth. "No."
"Excellent. The brief should be on my desk by, say, before you go home tonight." He said before turning around.
"Here," Nicole said handing him a sketchpad as she sat down and took her coffee from him.
"What's this?" Hermes asked.
"A sketch," Nicole said. "It might just be me but you just seemed so interested in my art and so last night I picked up a pencil and this happened. And so I just…"
"Whoa," Hermes said looking over it. "Nicole, this is gorgeous."
"It is?" She asked. It didn't look like much to her. It was just a steampunk lady, trying to look elegant while a pool of oil oozed from her robot and the stain climbed up her skirt.
"It is," he said sounding distant. "I haven't seen something this good in a long time. It looks so casual yet gorgeous and the attention to detail… And the… wow…"
Nicole blushed. "It's just a quick sketch in Central Park."
"Well then keep sketching quickly in Central Park, you are fantastic." Hermes said. Nicole's feelings were all over the place. She started daydreaming and choking up and smiling and blushing all at the same time.
She ripped the picture from the sketchbook and handed it to him.
"Have it then," Nicole said. "There's plenty more where it comes from."
Her pencil drifted across the corner of her meeting plan as Mrs. Léveillé, a very soft-speaking monotonous woman, elaborated on something Nicole couldn't recall for the life of her. She was too busy doing two other things: wondering what colour Mrs. Léveillé could wear to brighten up her figure that would match her greying hair tone, and sketching a horse galloping in the corner of her meeting plan.
She wasn't taking notes for the first time of her life.
"Good Morning Sugar and Milk."
She didn't even have to look up to know who she replied 'good morning' to. Obviously and quiet clearly it was Hermes.
"I got you some coffee," Hermes said handing her the cup. "Now don't freak, I've got to warn you... I know you're very steadfast, orderly and disciplined and all that but this one has…"
"Oh, it doesn't matter," Nicole said. She took a sip and savoured it. "Hmm. Very tasty. Half hot-cocoa right? It tastes chocolaty."
Hermes looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
She was miserable as she walked around with a watering can and watered the plants in the office. They were the only dots of colour against the grey of everything else- cubicles, walls, ceiling tiles, floor, folder cabinets…
"St-James," someone called.
People.
"Stoll," Nicole corrected.
"Yes, yes," Mr Gagnon said. "Anyways I was looking for those notes you were to prepare for me, on tomorrow's case."
"They're on your desk, sir."
"No, no, no. Those were about the Culligan case."
"But you said Culligan," Nicole frowned.
"No, I said Carter," Mr Gagnon said.
"No sir, I distinctly remember you saying Culligan sir, but I have time to…"
"I'm sorry, who are you in this firm?" Mr Gagnon said crossing his arms.
Nicole's hands tightened into fists.
"Well I can tell you who I'm not," she said angrily. "I am not the careless boss who couldn't give a damn less or a damn more if he tried, the one who can't remember names right, the one who can't give instructions straight, the one who overloads everybody with crap until they are sick and tired of getting up in the morning. And I am not the university student following an internship essential to her graduation and law degree, because I am done."
She grabbed her coat and purse from her small office on her way out, and her marching out was followed by curious and amazed eyes peeking over cubicle walls and out of office doors.
She went up the subway steps and Hermes stopped playing when he spotted her.
"Hey," he said. "You're early. Are you sick? Did your building catch on fire? Boss die?"
"No," she said. "I… I kind of quit."
A string on his guitar snapped.
"You quit?"
"Yeah," Nicole laughed nervously. "Crazy eh? I just… I quit. I just did. I was tired and bored and I quit."
"You were bored in an office, eh?" Hermes asked.
"I don't know," Nicole said tugging at the belt on her trench coat. "I guess… I guess that I figured that out when I realised how robotic I was becoming. I was different as a kid. I liked running around and having fun. You reminded me of how fun that was, and I got a scare. I was losing that."
"What about work? And how you make money and how money is how you live?"
Nicole tugged on her belt even more. "I was hoping you could help me with that. You said I was a good artist and so… well, I was hoping you could help me set up a workshop or get into art school or something. Actually, just a workshop, I'm sick of school I want to do not learn to do."
Hermes smiled. "It would be my greatest pleasure, Nicole Stoll." He stood up and gave a ridiculous little bow that made her smile despite her nerves.
"Oh," Nicole said, "and also since today appears to be a day of me doing rash things thinking I won't regret them…"
She leaned in and kissed Hermes smack on the lips.
