SCENT OF THE HIGGS

Summary: Based on this video of Eliza Dooley for E!News. What happens when a grumpy but well-dressed executive catches his beautiful friend and best sales rep leaning into him for a deep whiff. Eliza is no longer on TeamFreddy, and Henry is kicking kale on TeamSalad.

I miss seeing Heliza and their friendship, and I'm borrowing Emily Kapnek's characters for awhile, despite the show's early cancellation. COMPLETE one-shot that's independent of my other Selfie stories.

Chapter 1 of 2 : He smells kinda nice

In an interview with a local networking group of sales reps in Los Angeles, Eliza Dooley of KinderKare Pharmaceuticals was asked about the people with whom she worked:

"I don't really think about people as my co-workers, because nobody can do what I do. But in terms of the people who are in the same building as me, a lot of them smell. Henry aside though, he doesn't smell. He actually smells kinda nice ... whatever ... what was I talking about?"

It was amazing what he discovered when he stopped to pay attention to something other than work. Perhaps, he was thrown off by the fact she drove him crazy when she stopped by his office at least three times a day. Truth told, he always had a little smile when she'd throw full caution and, naturally, a part of his working day out into the wind with new consumer products on the web. Occasionally, she'd surprise him with her sales reports in their unofficial setting; she once told him it was so boring to present her results and show her awesomeness to people who didn't care. He told her he cared. She replied she knew. It was most definitely a good thing.

Over the last few days, he'd been puzzled about why she'd begun standing so close to him. He arrived eventually to the big realization, and of course, his powers of deduction were aided after finding video interviews of various sales reps from pharmaceutical companies based in southern California. He saw "sales rep" and "pharm", and his mind immediately leapt to Eliza. Among the other interviews, there were no new industry secrets (which he already knew) or other salacious details (which he wouldn't have known). He clicked on Eliza's interview which had been produced some time before her haircut. If the latter alone hadn't been amazing, what and how she said in her 12-second clip had been mindblowing.

Above all, Henry could not mistake the glow of distracted pleasure on her face when she spoke about him.

But yesterday had been the clincher.

With a fresh cup of coffee retrieved from the break room, he headed back to the office. He saw Eliza at the other end of the hall heading his way, her eyes down, and tapping away on her iPhone. They got to within a few feet when she suddenly looked up from her phone and directly at him. It'd been uncanny; it was as if she knew it was him all along.

What the? Did she …?

He caught the flustered look on her face before she mumbled his name and beat a hasty retreat.

No way. It couldn't be. I've gotta be seeing things, seeing things only I want to see. Eliza walked right up to me, looked me in the eyes, and took a deep breath. She wanted to know my scent. And … and she liked it.

That put a big smile on his face, one that lasted to the end of the day. One that prompted some in the bullpen to ask him if he was doing all right, so unaccustomed to seeing this smiley side of him.

After the following weekend passed with little contact aside from a brief phone conversation about the quirks between online and in-person shopping, he plunged headfirst into a new work week. Nothing happened. He admitted he was a little disappointed she was no longer getting "up close and personal."

Perhaps she figured it out, and she'd had enough.

But the end of Tuesday had been a noticeable departure. Finally leaving, Henry made his way into the elevator at around 7, but was surprised to see Eliza running into the elevator as soon as he stepped inside. What in the world? What was she still doing here this late? They were the only two in the elevator, but she stood very close to him. He thought she was acting weird, but when he turned to face her, her eyes were closed and she looked a picture of bliss.

"Eliza?"

Realizing she'd been caught, she opened her eyes and looked like a deer caught in headlights. Mercifully, the elevator doors opened. He called her name to stop, but she was gone.

That was weird. Even for her. Wait. Was she waiting for me? No way …

The following day, Henry and Eliza sat in his office for their regularly scheduled lunch. He didn't think she'd come, but he had long learned that what she liked about him was their established routine, one developed after many lunches. Some lunches occurred standing together, some of them seated across from each other in the break room, and some of them seated next to each other on the couch in his office. After stilted attempts at conversation, he'd had enough. He lost his appetite and put down his Tupperware container. He sipped from a water glass to clean his palate, and cleared his throat.

"Eliza, I understand you think I smell nice." Henry said, getting right to the point.

She lifted the granola bar halfway when she stopped and turned to him. "What?"

"I'm of the understanding, that you think I smell nice."

"I don't know what you're talking about ..."

"Please, Eliza, I can access the internet, too. You taught me that. Besides, I've seen the video."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I saw the video."

"What video?"

"The one where you're being interviewed among other sales reps here in Los Angeles. You've been holding out on me."

"Oh that." She was trying to get off this topic, her tone as if this was N-B-D. "Yeah, well, I rocked it like Taylor, like the time we saw her at the Staples Center ..."

He narrowed his eyes. "Okaaaaay. By the way, I still don't understand to this day why you invited me to see Taylor Swift."

"You had fun, didn't you? Maybe the lighting wasn't the best, but I could've sworn I saw a smile on your face."

"Haha. I can tell you're mocking me."

"But?"

"No 'but'. You're right; I had fun." Actually, I enjoyed watching you as much as I enjoyed the musical spectacle.

"I know you did, Henry. I was there, too."

"Could we get back to our little discussion?"

"You were discussing. I was avoiding ..."

"Oh no, Eliza. No, you're not gonna avoid talking about this." She made a face, pointedly indicating she wanted nothing further with this conversation. "In fact," he said, "I'd like you to tell me more. You know, about how I smell nice."

"Are you enjoying this, Henry? Because I can assure you that I am not."

"I may be crap at lying, but that, Eliza, was a particularly awful lie."

"What?" It alarmed her how well she had rubbed off on him. Or the fact I want to rub my body all over him. What? No! Bad Eliza!

"I know you're lying, Eliza. So, why don't you stop the charade, and tell me what is going on."