Chapter Six – Linger

The chalkboard was filthy, but with some care, it at least looked passable for teaching maths. Linda washed and dried the board off, proud of her work as the deep green color stared back at her. Perfect. A shuffling from the shelves behind her made her look around.

"All right there, love?" The librarian waddled over with her glasses perched on the end of her fat nose.

"Oh, yes. Thank you very much for loaning me this."

"Oh, no problem. It was gathering dust, anyhow." The librarian moved around her, putting books away. "So what you need it for, if you don't mind me prying?"

"I'm doing some tutoring," Linda replied as she pulled out a box of chalk from her bag.

"Oh, sounds good." The door to the library opened and Chris walked in, completely ignoring the library aide that was trying to get his attention as he passed. The girl looked positively annoyed at the cold contact and stormed off, disappearing to another part of the library.

"Hello there, Mrs. June," he said cheerfully as he set down his bag.

"Christopher, dear." Mrs. June turned around, a jolly tone accompanying her words. "Are you the student tonight?" She asked, looking between Chris and Linda.

"I am," he said, smiling at Linda, who smiled back. "She's teaching me maths. God help me." The librarian laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as she passed.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," she said warmly as she waddled away.

"Look at you, best friends with the librarian," Linda teased after a few seconds. Chris shrugged.

"She's just excited that someone is reading the classics around this place."

"I see."

"I actually brought something to show you-"

"Maths first," Linda interrupted with a slight smile. Chris frowned, but stayed silent all the same and took a seat. "Now, did you bring your set?" She asked sweetly.

"Right here." He pulled it out from his pocket and threw it casually on the table.

"All right then…" Linda opened the paper. "Now, when it comes to the quadratic formula…" She turned around and wrote out the problems on the board...

Three days a week over the next few months, they met in the library, the sessions growing more and more intense as Chris's professor covered new material by the pounds. There was barely any time for fun as she drilled him mercilessly on his sets, ignoring his constant grumbling and complaining. He didn't know how it was possible for someone to push, aggravate, annoy, and charm him all within the same hour, but she succeeded each and every time.

But as much as she was grating on him, he had to admit, his grades were starting to improve under her direction, and even Michael was starting to take notice

"Look at that, a B!" Michael mumbled through a mouthful of rice pudding, looking over Chris's shoulder at the large, red letter that graced his test one morning in the dining hall. "You might just pass this term, after all."

"God forbid." Chris set down the paper, smiling. "By the way, how's the new girlfriend?" Michael had met a girl in one of his classes named Melody, and she was all that he could talk, breathe and think about.

"She's great. Beautiful and smart, but not out of my reach and definitely not being pushed by her parents to marry a genius," Michael noted, looking extremely pleased.

"Ah, the perfect match."

"I'm going to pretend you weren't insulting me."

"Do that." Michael ignored Chris's remark and swallowed the last of his pudding.

"How's Linda doing?" He asked.

"Oh, you know, being Linda." Chris shrugged. "Never let her tutor you, she can be quite the slave driver."

"You like it, though. Otherwise you wouldn't come home smiling after each session." And Michael's words weren't far off from the truth. He hadn't seen Chris smile as much as he did after his tutoring sessions since…well, he had never really seen him that happy at all, and to Michael, that was a good sign.

"Are you suggesting I'm a masochist?"

"No," Michael laughed a hearty laugh, standing to his feet and slinging his bag onto his shoulder. "I'm just saying you like being around her, even if she is torturing you with maths."

"Eh," Chris said slowly, moving his hand. "She's something else, I'll give you that."

"Just be careful not to get attached."

"Me, get attached to Linda?" He scoffed." I'm not the attaching type."

"Said the man that could barely bring himself to depart from a childhood pillow to come to university."

"Oi, watch it," Chris warned, eying Michael's wide grin. "Insult the pillow and you insult me."

"All right, Chris. I've gotta go and meet Melody. See you later." Michael walked off and Chris leaned onto his elbows, looking all around the dining hall. He really should find Linda and thank her. He was destined to fail in maths, and if it hadn't been for her coming and rescuing him from that fate, who knows what would've happened? He got up and grabbed his bag, starting the search to find her.

She wasn't very far away from the the dining hall. In fact, she was in the abandoned library, standing in the back and contemplating a rather long problem written out on the chalkboard, her hands in front of her mouth. Chris strode to where she stood and stared at the board almost white with writing. Just looking at all of those numbers and equations made his head start to ache. He knew better than to even try and address Linda when she was thinking; she always seemed rather snappy when he broke her concentration. With a sweep, she suddenly grabbed the chalk to start writing in the small space that was left in the mess of numbers. Quietly, he took a seat and watched her finish, the chalk clacking and clicking as her hand flew across the board. With a hop, she pulled back and silently looked over her work, a smile spreading across her face.

"Finally," she muttered, turning around and blinking as if she was realizing where she was and who was sitting in front of her.

"Hello there," Chris said politely, holding back a smile at her very light blush.

"Have you been there long?"

"No, I just got here. That was very impressive," he said with a nod toward the board behind her. She looked over her shoulder and shrugged.

"Hardly a challenge." She waved her hand and sat down in a chair. "What brings you here on this fine morning?"

"I came to bring you some good news. Have a gander at this," he replied as he held up the test. She gasped.

"A B! How impressive, Mr. Holmes," she said with a smile. "Looks like my constant mathematics drills got through your thick skull."

"How could it not? I saw numbers everywhere I went for a while."

"Well, now, your mind can take a break."

"If it hasn't imploded and collapsed on itself," he replied drolly.

"I doubt that, you're still walking and talking. Brain's in perfect working order in my opinion."

"Well, thank goodness. But on a more serious note, I wouldn't have gotten this grade if it wasn't for you," he said.

"You worked just as hard for it," she pointed out.

"Under your dictatorship, yes." Linda rolled her eyes, biting back a reply. "But a simple thank you won't do here. I was actually wondering if I could I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?" Chris must've noticed her face fall, because he hastily added. "It's just a thank you dinner."

"A thank you dinner," she repeated suspiciously.

"Yes." Can you be any more awkward, Chris, he thought to himself flatly. But as stupid as it sounded, he had to watch what he said. He wasn't about to even utter the word 'date'. After a few tense seconds, her face relaxed.

"Sure," she finally said, trying to hide her nervousness. Dinner couldn't hurt...it was just a thank you, after all...wasn't it?

It was cold.

It was really cold.

Chris bundled his coat closer to his body, hoping he wouldn't die of hypothermia as he waited for Linda to come out and meet him to go into town. She was probably taking forever to spite him, giving him yet another reason to verbally spar with her.

As he thought about what he could say to her when she came out, she finally emerged, wearing a long grey dress that went slightly past her knees, and what looked like to be a trench coat with her hair in long, bouncy curls all around her head.

"Interesting ensemble there," he said as she turned the collar of the coat up against the cold.

"I like trench coats. Makes me feel mysterious."

"You don't need any help with that. You're a woman; by nature, you're all mysterious."

"And yet, men love us anyway."

"A double-edged sword," Chris said, smiling. "Shall we go?" they walked close together, battling the cold as they walked down the road and into the small town not too far away from the university. They dashed through the small crowds of people into the pub were they first met, thankful for the warmth of the place. After a couple of minutes, they were seated in a small and cozy booth.

"Oi, Mycroft!" A waiter called into the back of the pub. "You've got people!" Suddenly, a very tall and lanky young man dashed over, hastily greeting them and getting their drink orders before leaving again.

"That's a very interesting name," Chris noted. "Never heard that one before."

"It's an old name, mostly a last name though," Linda said, looking at her menu. "We had a Mycroft in the family, way back there in history, though." She looked thoughtful. "That wouldn't be a bad name to bring back to the forefront again. Maybe I'll name my son that." She looked back down to her menu, but slowly looked back up to Chris's intense stare.

"You're joking," he said simply.

"No," she replied with a shrug. "It's a very regal name. And besides, it would stand out. You never know. He might become famous one day or something, and then his name will be known everywhere." Chris laughed.

"If he has half a brain like yours, he certainly will become famous."

"You're too kind." Mycroft came back, and took their orders, leaving just as quickly as he came After a beat of silence, Linda cleared her throat."So, besides poetry, what do you write?"

"I was writing a crime story for a bit, but I'm afraid I'll have to abandon it for now." Chris sighed. "It's not working out like I thought it would. Otherwise, I just write for the sake of."

"What is it about writing that you like so much?" Taking a long sip of water, he thought about her question, trying to come up with the words to answer her, but he decided to make the experience more personal.

"When you do a maths problem, what's it like for you?" he asked after putting his glass down.

"I'm not as accurate with my words like you are."

"You don't have to be. I psychoanalyze remember?" Linda chuckled.

"Well…I guess for me it's like a rush. When I get to working on a problem, I just…go. It's like something other than myself is controlling my hand as I write the answers down. I don't really have to think, I can just go with it and it just works."

"You just answered your own question. The thrill, the adrenaline, it's all there for me, like it is for you." Mycroft returned to the table and left a basket of bread. Linda reached to take a roll, but found her hand in Chris's gentle grip instead. She cleared her throat politely, pinning him with a look, but very slowly, as if trying to gauge her reaction, he moved their hands away from the bread and to the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but her words failed as she stared down at their joint hands. His was so strong, so muscular and rough compared to hers, yet his fingers were so gentle against her skin, like he was purposefully going slow in order to savor the experience. Despite trying to keep a cool exterior, her heart thundered in her ears.

"Chris," she started, trying to put together a sentence.

"You're so beautiful." The whispered statement drowned out quickly over the soft chatter of the restaurant, but she heard it all the same. Roughly she pulled her hand away, shaking her head.

"I knew it," she muttered as her neck and cheeks began to burn. Linda, how could you be so foolish?

"My apologies, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable-"

"It's fine, but you need to stop this, Chris."

"Stop what?"

"You know what."

"No, I really don't," he said innocently.

"This." She gestured between them. "I know that you like me, but I can't do...this," she finished.

"You can't do this or you won't do this?" Chris asked, staring at her. Her lips formed a thin line.

"I don't have to tell you the answer to that."

"No, you don't," he agreed after a short pause. She swallowed.

"Besides, it would never work between us."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

"No, I don't," he said with a shrug.

"Well, then, there. That's it." She threw up her hands. "So we should just stop here."

"What if I don't want to stop here? What if I want to keep going and find out where the road leads?"

"You're making it very hard to let you down gently," she finally said, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

"I'm no stranger to rejection, Linda; you won't be the first girl to tell me no. I guess I just thought that you might..." A pause. "Change your mind."

"I had to turn Michael down; what makes you think you're so special that I would just change my mind for you?" He tried to ignore the pang at her cold words.

"I'm sorry," he said again, not really sure what else he could say. For the first time in a long time, he felt truly nervous that he had done something really wrong.

"I know you're sorry, I just..." she trailed off, knowing that she had to choose her words carefully. As much as a part of her wanted to experience what Chris was offering her, she just couldn't bring herself to move and take a chance. Maybe in another life, in another person's mind, she could've, but not as Linda Gregory. In that moment, she slightly hated herself as she opened her mouth. "Chris, after tonight, I need you to leave me alone." A beat passed before anyone moved. Chris leaned back and sighed. So she wasn't going to budge. Ignoring the jolt in his chest, he cleared his throat.

"I suppose I can get help from someone else."

"Yes, that would be best," she agreed weakly. Mycroft came back and tended to them throughout the short dinner, noticing that while the young couple came in and were very relaxed, they were suddenly extremely tense with each other, barely registering the other one was there. He made it easier for them to end the evening by getting their check quickly and collecting the monies before waving them off into the cold night.

They walked quietly up the road to the university and stopped in front of Linda's dorm. Both of them looked around, trying to think of something to say.

"I'll see you…sometime or another." She turned around to walk up the stairs.

"Linda." She turned around to face him. "Remember what I told you in the courtyard a couple of months ago. About what lengths you will go to when you really love someone." She frowned.

"I don't love you."

"Thank you for that, but I didn't say you did," he teased, a slight smile playing across his face. "I'm just reminding you." She shook her head slowly and turned around, walking up the rest of the stairs and into the building, thankful for the silence.

The cold barely registered into Chris's mind, getting lost amongst the other thoughts racing through it. He was an idiot, a fool. Of course Linda's loyalty would stop her from taking him up on his offer. But he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she would change her mind. Foolish. It was rubbish thinking, but it was the hope he clung to all of this time.

"You did this to yourself, Chris," he told himself as he walked back to the hall where his dorm was. "You knew she would turn you down; you knew she would tell you no. Why are you so surprised?"

Because, he answered himself, as he went into the room, ignoring Michael's tired question of where he was, you're starting to fall in love with her.