The Odds of Human Nature

Chapter Two: It's a Date

"Is that what you're wearing?"

Charlie paused with his hand on the light switch to his office and took several deep breaths. When he'd managed to push down the sudden spike of annoyance, he turned to Larry and said the phrase that had become his mantra over the past six hours. "It's not a date."

"But it could be."

With a sigh, he turned off the lights and shut the door. "As I've already told my father fourteen times today, it isn't." What was with everybody? Charlie wondered. Even Don had made a point of stopping by for breakfast just to tease him about his meeting with the collision girl, and he was quickly reaching the end of his patience. If this is what people had to put up with while dating, he was seriously considering taking an oath of celibacy. And it wasn't even an actual date!

"Besides, there's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing," Charlie said, looking down at his usual classroom fare--jeans, black tee-shirt, jacket. "And as long as I'm not walking around naked, I don't see why it's anyone's business."

Catching the edge to the normally tranquil voice, Larry's brow wrinkled with concern as he gazed at his friend. "Charlie, are you all right?"

"Yeah," he answered, hating that he felt guilty for defending himself and forced a smile for his friend. "I'm just a little tired of everyone taking such an interest in my personal life, especially when there's nothing personal involved. Why is it so difficult for people to understand that I'm simply returning her papers to her, nothing more?"

"I'm sorry," the physicist said, looking properly shamefaced at his own busy-bodying. "I didn't realize it was becoming such an ordeal."

"You have no idea," Charlie said as they started down the hall towards the exit. "This morning, dad was actually telling me about a store he knew where I could get a great deal on an engagement ring." And Don had nearly given himself a hernia, he was laughing so hard at the expression on Charlie's face. At least his brother had offered to give him a reconciliatory lift to CalSci after that, but Charlie was more than ready to wash his hands of the whole thing. "I just don't understand what the big deal is."

"The big deal is this--you could have put the papers in the mail to return them to her, and they would have reached her a lot faster. Instead, she actually bothered to set up a meeting between the two of you, and even more astounding, you actually accepted. What you've agreed to is a social interaction between two people, something we don't often get a chance to see you participate in."

"The meeting was only meant to be a civil gesture, something nice done for someone else. It was not meant to turn into Monty Python's Flying Circus. You do realize I'm capable of civil gestures, don't you?"

"Every time you help me double-check an equation or offer to assist your brother solve a case, you're doing something nice for us, and we appreciate it. This just seems a little out of your realm."

They reached the exit doors and Charlie turned to Larry, his brown eyes perplexed and slightly worried. "Am I really so inept at being human that every step I take outside of the classroom should be considered as part of some sort of psychological study?"

"It's not that you're inept at being human, Charlie," Larry said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're just afraid that you're going to wake up one day thinking that math isn't enough and not know what to do next."

Charlie chuckled as he opened the door. "Math not enough? Trust me, Larry, that day will never come."

The physicist watched as Charlie walked down the sidewalk to the waiting cab, his eyes filling with sorrow. "Don't be too sure of that," he said softly, waiting until the cab had left before turning around and heading back down the hallway.

Charlie stepped out of the cab and onto the sidewalk swarming with an odd combination of lackadaisically dressed students and men and women in business suits. It was almost noon, the time they'd arranged to meet, and the various restaurants and cafes were buzzing with the lunch crowd. The collision girl--Alison, he reminded himself with a glance at the pages in his hand--had promised to meet him at the corner of Westholme and Hilgard, but he didn't know how prompt she would be and he felt a little out of sorts. He'd been to the UCLA campus before, but each trip failed to equate him with the enormity of the place. He immediately missed the intimacy of CalSci's quiet little campus and, for a second, he wished he were back in the safety of his classroom.

"Hey, mister, you still want me to wait?"

Charlie bent over to look at the driver and was about to give his assent when a head peered into the passenger's side window.

"You can go--I've got him."

"He's all yours," the driver said and the woman pulled Charlie away from the door, shutting it just before the car drove away.

Charlie stared at the disappearing vehicle, then turned to look at his captor. "I was actually going to--"

"Hi Charlie," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm Alison. Thank you so much for agreeing to come down here. I've been in class all morning and I'm booked for the rest of the afternoon, or I'd have tried to meet you a little closer to home."

"It's all right," he said, feeling overwhelmed as he took her hand. Her skin was soft against his own, except for the coolness of the rings adorning her fingers. Her handshake was firm and he realized he was strengthening his own grip in order to match hers. Alison's eyes lit up.

"I have to say, you have a wonderful handshake. Have you noticed that lately handshakes have become sort of. . . wussy? Half the time, I feel like I'm shaking hands with a Kleenex. Are you hungry? I missed breakfast this morning and this is the last chance I'm going to have to eat for the rest of the day. Would you care to join me for lunch? My treat. It's the least I can do after you made the trip all the way over here."

"Run out of breath?" he couldn't resist asking when she'd finally paused to wait for an answer, and a flush climbed up her cheeks as she looked down at her hands.

"Sorry. I tend to babble when I'm nervous."

His face softened as his eyes filled with relief. "You're nervous?"

"A little bit," she shrugged, looking up at him again with a bashful smile. "Cam's told me so much about you, I can't help feeling like a tiny ant staring up at the sole of a shoe unable to figure out how this is going to turn out."

"If it's any consolation, I promise not to crush you."

"Sounds good," she said. "And I promise not to knock you over again. So, lunch?"

Here was a complete stranger asking him to share a meal, and despite knowing what his friends and family would say about it, he didn't hesitate to answer. "I think I'd like that."

"Great." Alison took him by the hand and began dragging him down the sidewalk. "I know just the place. It's a haven in the midst of all this chaos. I always forget how busy things get around noon, but since we're right across the street from the science buildings, it's the most convenient place to go. Though I suppose the Bombshelter on campus would be technically be more convenient, but it's nice to get off campus every once in a while."

"You know, I'm beginning to think nervousness has nothing to do with your babbling. Admit it. You're like this all the time, aren't you?"

Alison looked over her shoulder at him and winked. "Only one way to find out."

She led him into Java Espresso and Bakery and as soon as the door closed, he couldn't help sighing when the barrage on his ears suddenly vanished. The bakery was full of people, but it was almost as if there was an unwritten rule against excess racket. Several students were studying as they ate, and a there was an enclosed room in the back for large parties that needed to make more than the acceptable level of noise. The whole atmosphere was one of serenity and academia, and he felt right at home.

"It's like I just walked into a library," he said, smiling at her.

She nodded. "But a library where they don't mind if you bring in food and drinks. I love this place. I spend way too much time here."

"Hey Professor Strauss," called out a young man from behind the counter and she chuckled.

"As has just been demonstrated--we all know each other by name," she said, and stepped up to the counter. "Hi there, Sam. How's tricks?"

"Rolling right along. You brought company?"

"Got tired of hearing myself talk. Sam, this is Dr. Charles Eppes from over at CalSci."

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "The Dr. Charles Eppes? Wow. I'm impressed. You're certainly moving up in the world, Professor. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Eppes."

"You, too," Charlie out of politeness since he was positive he'd never see the young man again in his life.

"So, what'll it be?" Sam said, turning back to Alison. "The usual?"

"You know it."

"Full or half sandwich."

"Full, please. This is lunch, dinner, and breakfast combined."

Sam tsked at her, shaking his head. "You should take better care of yourself, Professor," he said, and Charlie couldn't help grinning. Nice to know he wasn't the only one who got that speech.

"I know, but it's a long day. What about you, Charlie?"

"I'll just have whatever you're having," he answered, staring at the menu written in chalk above our heads and finding he didn't recognize half of the items listed there.

"Great. That'll be two hummus on whole wheat, two bowls of potato leek soup, chips and extra chips, and two large green tea lemonades."

Charlie stared at the young man, hoping he was joking. When Alison handed him her credit card, Charlie realized the order had been real. What on earth had he gotten himself into?

"Raul will call your name when your order's up," Sam said, setting out on the counter two glasses of water and two glasses of a pale yellow liquid that could only have been the lemonade. Charlie was put a little at ease by the fact that the lemonade at least looked normal.

"Great," Alison said as she signed the receipt and shoved a five into the tip jar. "Thanks, Sam."

"Any time, Professor."

She handed the waters over to Charlie and took hold of the lemonades, leading them through the maze of tables and chairs to an empty one in the back.

"Did I really just order hummus?" Charlie asked as he sat down.

"They make the best hummus in L.A.," Alison said, taking a drink from her lemonade. "You'll love it. I can't get enough of the stuff. And their bread is amazing--they make it fresh every morning. And remind me to grab a brownie on the way out--you have got to try one. Talk about melt-in-your mouth chocolate ambrosia."

Charlie smiled at the blissful expression on her face. "Sounds like you know the place pretty well."

She nodded. "I'm in here at least three times a week for lunch, and sometimes dinner, too."

"And you always order the same thing?"

"I'll occasionally get a different kind of soup," she shrugged, "but otherwise, yep, same thing every time."

"I don't think there's ever been anything in my life I've liked so much that I'd eat it three times a week."

"Never?" she asked, surprised. "Not even when you were a kid?"

He shook his head. "I'd just eat what mom made for me. It didn't really matter what it was. Of course, nowadays, I'm lucky if I even remember to eat."

"And I get complaints about my eating habits," she teased. "We should you a butler or personal nutritionist or someone who will make sure you don't waste away."

"That's what family's for," he said with a smile. "My father and brother have taken it upon themselves to remind me when they know I'm too absorbed in my work to remind myself. They've even got my advisee pushing food at me."

"Sounds like they're conspiring against you, but in a good way."

"I guess so," Charlie said, "even if it does feel like meddling a lot of the time."

"I hope you're referring to those times when food isn't involved."

"Yeah, I am," he said, and was surprised to find him grinning at her, but only because of the way she was grinning at him. It was almost as if he couldn't help himself.

"I understand how you feel," Alison said. "I've got three brothers--one older, two younger--and they consider it their god-given task to oversee every aspect of my life."

"Three brothers?" he asked, his eyes wide. He couldn't imagine having three Dons in his life. He was constantly screwing up having just one. "That must have been hectic growing up."

"It wasn't too bad and we get along pretty well. They just need straightening out every once in a while."

"I can imagine," Charlie grinned, wondering if he should get her advice on just how to accomplish that. "So what does your family do?"

"My parents are both architects. They met working at the same firm after college, fell in love, and recently started their own firm in San Francisco. Benji, my older brother, followed in their footsteps, but he's the last to do so. I'm a marine biologist, Casey is working on his residency at a hospital in Seattle, and Stephen is. . . well, he's still working on that. He's spent the past three years trying to get his band off the ground with very little luck--but that's only because they're all spectacularly lacking in anything remotely related to musical talent."

"That would make things difficult," Charlie chuckled. His sophomore year of college, he'd discovered the hard way that even if he used math in order to play the music, it sounded dead to his ears. He could play music on the piano with technical perfection, but he didn't have that something extra needed to make it actual music.

"The only reason they've survived this long is that all of them are damn pretty to look at and have no end of female followers. We're hoping he'll give up on the band and just settle for acting. He does community theatre in his spare time, either performing or helping out with the lighting and sets. He's good, too--really good--but he just doesn't want to let the music go."

"It's hard to let go of something that you've spent so much time on, no matter how far out of your reach it remains."

Alison's eyes studied him for a moment, and he felt as if she was seeing beyond his words to a secret he didn't even know he had hidden. "You sound as if you're speaking from experience."

"Maybe," he shrugged, and he could see she was about to delve deeper when Raul called out her name.

"Soup's on," she said as she stood up, the seriousness vanishing from her face. "Come on, give me a hand."

Charlie dutifully followed her to the counter where two bowls of potato leek soup were waiting.

"Sandwiches will be up in just a second," said the man behind the counter.

"Thanks, Raul. Charlie, could you grab those while I take these back to the table?"

"Sure." He watched as Alison carefully balanced the soup in her hands while weaving through the tables and a low whistle of admiration caught his attention. He turned to see Raul placing the full plates on top of the counter while keeping his eyes on the biologist.

"Man, when they hear about this, you're going to be the envy of the entire south campus."

"I am?" Charlie asked, puzzled.

"Hell, yeah. Most usually only last the night. That you made it to lunch makes you one lucky man."

Realizing what Raul was implying, Charlie quickly rushed to defend Alison. "It's not like that. We're just colleagues."

"You work with her?"

"Well. . . no, not exactly."

"Like I said," Raul smirked, "one lucky man."

Charlie grabbed hold of the plates and carried them to the table, avoiding any further comments. As he sat down and began eating, he took the time to look--really look--at his companion. Alison was pretty, he supposed, in an outdoorsy sort of way. Her brown hair was streaked by the sun and her skin deeply tanned, which was probably common for a marine biologist. Now that he was actually paying attention, he realized she had a nice body, shapely but toned, definitely the kind a guy wouldn't kick out of his bed. She was attractive, but while waiting for her to arrive earlier, he'd seen at least two dozen women walk by who were stunning in comparison.

On the other hand, he conceded, she did have a really nice smile, one that made him want to smile back. She was surprisingly easy to talk to, especially for someone who wasn't used to talking much, and she was a pleasant distraction from the numbers in his head. He decided that if he had to choose, her best feature would be her eyes. Her eyes were a pale sea green made even more remarkable as they stood out against the darkness of her tan. He could definitely see the benefit of being able to gaze for hours into her eyes.

"Do you like it?" Alison asked, and Charlie shook himself from his analysis of her.

"What?"

"The hummus."

He hadn't even realized he'd finished the soup and started on the sandwich layered with hummus, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. Taking a tentative bite, he chewed for a moment, then swallowed. "It's really good."

"I'm glad to hear it," she smiled, and he watched with curiosity as she lifted the top slice of bread from her sandwich and placed several potato chips inside before returning it.

"Why did you do that?" he asked before he could stop himself.

"I like a little crunch to my sandwich, which is why I always ask for extra chips," she said and lifting the sandwich to her mouth, she took a big bite. Charlie had to laugh at the look of utter rapture on her face. "What? It's good!"

"I think I'm going to have to see for myself," he said, and placed a chip on the next bite of his sandwich. Considering how little attention he paid to how things tasted, he was surprised to discover that he actually liked the potato chip's added crunch. "I definitely need to remember to add potato chips next time."

"Told you it was good," she grinned, and took another bite.

They finished their lunch and, as promised, Alison bought a brownie on the way out, breaking the monstrous pastry in two and giving half to Charlie.

"This is incredible," he said, his voice filled with awe as he practically devoured the brownie in one bite.

"Slow down or you'll choke," she chuckled, taking hold of his hand. "We can always go back and get some for you to take home."

"And share with the rest of the family?" he asked in mock horror.

"Spoken like a true younger brother," Alison laughed, nibbling on her own piece. "We'd always tried to scarf down anything good we got, just to make sure we didn't have to share. I can't tell you how many times we stuffed ourselves on cookies and candy growing up. With three other siblings around, it was either eat or go hungry where junk food was concerned. There were plenty of healthy things to munch on in the house, but what's the fun of that? Of course, it drove our parents up the wall because no matter how well they hid it, we were like bloodhounds where sweets were concerned--especially chocolate. Not a single ounce of chocolate survived more than a day in our house. Apples could go soft, but chocolate didn't stand a chance."

"You're babbling again," Charlie said, and she paused, turning to meet his eyes.

"That's because I'm nervous again."

"Why?"

Alison shifted uncomfortably on her feet and gave a hesitant shrug. "The thing is, in a few minutes, you're going to get into a cab, and unless I say something now, I might not ever see you again."

Charlie's breath caught in his throat as he gazed into those sea green eyes. She felt something for him, and he. . . he'd be a fool to deny that he felt something for her. "That would be bad," he said quietly, "wouldn't it?"

"Charlie, have you ever been out on a boat?"

An eyebrow arched at the sudden change of subject, and Charlie shook his head. "I don't get out much. It's not easy to tear myself away from my work."

"I'm taking a class scuba diving tomorrow and I would love for you to be my guest. I'll also be bringing along some oceanography students who will be doing some underwater mapping, just in case diving isn't your thing."

"I can't even swim," Charlie said, "but I think I'd really like to join you."

"Good, because I'd really like for you to be there. A friend of mine, Dr. Cameron Burgess from your astronomy department, will also be along for the ride so you'll have someone to talk to while I'm teaching."

"Dr. Burgess? I think I've met her a couple times."

"You have, and she's told me all the gruesome details," Alison joked, and he immediately wondered just what sort of details her friend had shared. "Why don't I pick you up? That way you won't have to worry about finding the marina."

"Good idea." Charlie tore a page from his notebook and wrote down directions to his house along with his cell phone number and the number for home.

"Excellent," she smiled, folding the paper and tucking it into her back pocket. "So I'll see you tomorrow at seven o'clock?"

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Then it's a date," Alison said, and Charlie's heart skipped a beat. This time, it really was a date. An actual date. Well, a date that included Alison's class and her friend, but her invitation had been directed at him, making it a date as far as he was concerned.

"Thank you for inviting me, and thanks for lunch."

"It's the least I could do," she said, holding up the pages he'd returned, and he gave in to his professional curiosity.

"If you don't mind me asking, what is that about?"

"This? Nothing much. Just part of an equation I was working on last semester to determine how global warming was affecting humpback whale migration patterns."

"Really? That's. . . wow. That's interesting." He paused as something she'd said managed to sink into his consciousness. "Did you say last semester?"

"Oh, look, here's your cab." Alison waved to the taxi and it pulled over next to them. She held open the door for him, and he prepared to step inside. "I'll see you tomorrow, Charlie. Seven o'clock, and don't forget."

"I won't. Alison. . ." His hands settled on the doorframe and he felt as if he should say something more, but he couldn't find the right words. Finally, he settled on, "I'm glad you ran into me."

Alison smiled and him and leaned forward just enough so that their lips brushed together. "I'm glad I ran into you, too," she said, and stepped back so he could sit down and close the door. She waved as the cab pulled away, Charlie twisting in his seat to watch her until the traffic swallowed her up. Sitting down against the vinyl, a slow flush of excitement crawled up his face. She'd kissed him. They were going on a date, and Alison had kissed him.

Larry had been right about the joys of spring. As far as Charlie was concerned, it was the best season ever.

"Charlie, are you sure it's safe?"

Knowing Don was just looking out for him, Charlie resisted rolling his eyes and simply gave his brother a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. If all else fails, I'm sure they have lifejackets on board for when the boat hits an iceberg."

Don snorted, shaking his head. "You've been spending too much time with dad."

"Yet another reason why I'm going tomorrow," Charlie said as he continued erasing the chalkboards in the garage. "I really thought you'd be happy for me."

Sighing, Don rubbed his face in his hands. "And I am. I'm just a little concerned." Concerned that you're going to be so lost in your head you'll fall off the boat and no one will notice. Concerned that this girl isn't what you think and she'll end up breaking your heart. Concerned that you're not ready for this much this fast.

Charlie dropped the eraser on a table and turned to his brother, crossing his arms over his chest. "You think I'm a complete idiot when it comes to women, don't you?"

"You're not an idiot, and yes," Don said, and took a drink from the plastic bottle he'd brought with him to the garage.

"Would it make you feel better to know I'm not a virgin?"

Water spewed everywhere and Don began coughing furiously. Charlie just leaned against the table and waited for him to recover.

"What?" Don sputtered, wiping his chin with his sleeve.

"I'm not a virgin. I haven't been for years now."

"Charlie, I. . . you. . ."

A small, sadistic part of him enjoyed the dumbfounded expression on his brother's face. "In fact, every time I go away for a conference, I rarely spend any of those nights in my own hotel room."

Don felt the bottle slipping from his fingers and he quickly set it on the ground next to his chair.

"I never go intending to sleep with them," Charlie continued. "I just receive invitations, and I accept. I admit, the first time it happened, I didn't quite know what was going on. It was after I'd finished giving a presentation and I was a little dazed by the response it had gotten--it was extremely well received. Afterwards, this woman whisked me away to her room, but because she was a good twenty years my senior, I didn't think anything of it. At first."

Listening to this, Don felt a burst of anger at the way his little brother had been taken advantage of. Where had he been during this time? As Charlie's older brother, shouldn't he have been protecting him? Or, at the very least, shouldn't he have prepared Charlie for the eventuality of sex? He should have talked to him about it, told him what to watch out for, what to be careful of, or at the very least, bought him a damn hooker. Instead, he'd left Charlie defenseless and open for the first predator who'd come along.

"Don't look at me like that, Don. She was amazing, understanding, and quite gentle. I learned a lot from her."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Don said, grateful he was sitting down.

"I'm only trying to let you know I'm not a complete dunce about this sort of thing, and Alison is not going to be like the rest of them. I can tell."

"Why? Just because you didn't fuck her on the first night?" he snarled, and immediately regretted his words as he caught the hurt in his brother's eyes. He hung his head. "Shit, Charlie, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I'm just--"

"Worried, I know. That's all you and dad ever are," he said coldly, then sighed as he shook the chill away. His brother didn't deserve his anger, not over something like this. "I know I've given you plenty of reason to worry in the past, but Donny, you're just going to have to learn to trust me. I know you were away for a long time, but you have to realize I'm not the little kid you left behind, not anymore."

Don looked at his brother and truly saw for the first time the adult lingering behind the intelligence in his brown eyes. "I'm beginning to realize that. That doesn't mean I want you to go tomorrow." He knew better than anyone how quickly the adult could be drowned out by the flood of numbers in his brother's mind. "Charlie, you don't even know how to swim!"

"Like I said, lifejackets. Not that there will be any reason to use them. It's a boat ride, Don. That's all."

"With people you don't even know."

"With a class---you know, students, teachers, learning. Not drug runners, murderers, psychotic monsters. My world, as opposed to yours. In case you haven't realized this, my world is the safer of the two."

"Yeah, I know," Don said with a wry smile, then sighed, accepting that nothing he said was going to change his brother's mind. "But that doesn't mean I'm not going to worry."

"Just so long as you know the worry's mutual. I've seen what you're up against, Don, and I worry about you every day you're out there."

"So we're agreed. We're both going to worry and there's nothing the other can do about it."

"That sounds about right," Charlie nodded with a smile. "We don't have to like it, but we do have to accept it."

"I think I'll settle for just not liking it," Don said, and his brother chuckled.

"If that's the best you can do."

"It's all I can offer you right now."

"Then I accept."

"Okay. Now tell me," Don began, a wicked gleam in his eyes, "what's all this about you having sex with strangers?"

All the humor in Charlie's face was replaced by a rush of embarrassment and he jumped to his feet. "Is that dad calling? I think I hear dad. Dinner must be ready."

"Charlie. . ." But his little brother was already out the door and halfway to the house. Chuckling, Don grabbed his bottle and turned out the lights, closing the garage door behind him. He'd have to nail his brother to the wall for that one some other time.

Completed April 27, 2005