A/N: Thank you everyone for your reviews! Jamylle, MobyShamy4ever, Hazelra7, Fowlercooper73, Uniquejd2022, MarisaFromBCN, Dvalls1, Eluri, Kathy, and my wonderful, trusty beta reader. Apologies if I cannot include other names since you may be simply referred to as 'guests' due to not being logged in. I've read them all and took some of your thoughts in consideration. It is greatly appreciated and I am always open to hear your input. These days, apart from studies and work, I have been a total bookworm haha; my possible free time would be either reading or conjuring penmanship. So I want to thank you all. Because of you, I have rekindled my long lost passion for writing.
And now, I promised for a certain someone's grand entrance, haven't I?
Someone's finally arriving into the picture.
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/ Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Big Bang Theory. This is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended. /
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~Chapter 3~
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The day that I met you.. The world had just spit me out
On my way to the bottom.. Sure I'd never be found
Then you saw me for me.. Made me believe in myself
On the day that I met you.. It all turned around
Until I had met you.. There was no sun in my sky
No mirrors for monsters.. And no love in sight
Then you walked down those stairs.. And I knew my heart wasn't mine
On the day that I met you.. My whole world came alive
Fall into me and I'll catch you, darlin~
–Forest Blakk
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I'm running late.
She critically chastised herself as she hurried towards the train station.
"All aboard!" Came the second warning. She cursed her short, dinky good-for-nothing legs as the distance between her and the locomotive did not seem to close.
Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Yet on Monday, fate was not in her favor. Of all misbegotten days.
She was only partially to blame– one bad thing led to another. It all started with the week before; a mouse ran loose in the lab and her search for the furry rodent only stopped when it had been found on her face. Thankfully, there was no harm, but her glasses broke. The hinges were loose and the temple tips fell in odd places.
Hence, this very day, she had to stop by the adjacent optical store and pick up her new ones– from the rimless lenses with gold fitting to a lilac harlequin-cat eye. Gazing at the mirror, the new look made her grin a bit as she agreed to this taste of nowadays fashion trends. However, that smile did not last when she–with her now clear vision–rechecked her wax-sealed letter to a very important appointment. The once smudged numbers of 9 past seven blurred into 8 past 5.
Jeepers! There is barely 20 minutes left! She had thought. And the place she needed to go was somewhere she'd never been to. Consternation and distress filled her, allowing her to bite her lip. Alas, here she was speeding her way towards the automobile. As fast as her stubby legs can take her. Never before had she used such great physical exertion– not even in her adolescent years.
Her brown chestnut hair whipped right behind her as she customarily kept it untied. She couldn't return home to change, so her long skirt was worn without the hoops, for a soft draped casual appearance. The shirtwaist dress was covered underneath her marigold cardigan, her noir tights held her calves, and her penny loafer shoes clicked in pace. Despite the current trouble, her greenish-blue hazel eyes gleamed with anticipation.
She has a modest taste in daily attire, opting the conservative look. Apart from other women, she knew the appearance of a person is important. When someone viewed that person, they'd get their first-made impression. Right there. It was not simply just their personality. In her eyes, clothing with seductive appeal is not something she wanted to be known for. For she was but a young woman who wanted to be taken seriously. Shoulder-revealing sundresses, tight-fitting pencil skirts, halter neck dresses, and leather-clad bustier tops were the styles she set aside.
In this day and age, there were famous feminine updos like glamorous pin curls and bandana-wrapped styles. Makeup-wise, this decade was full of glamor. Advances in cosmetics paved the way for fantastic new beauty looks. Creamy foundation, pastel pink blush, soft eyeshadow, red or pink lips, tapered eyebrows, and mascara on the upper lashes. An hourglass figure had also predominated the years with its tight cinched waist and petite curved hips, to say nothing of the least.
All things that made women appear more feminine. All things that she was inadequate of. And she was perfectly fine with it.
She believed that life was so much more than flaunting her sex and feminity.
The conductor signaled one last time, his hand waved in the air above the sea of heads. It patently meant: haul your keister up here quick or you'll be left behind.
The wind blew right through her, nipping at her nose. It was a battle to keep her lampshade head just above her head.
Thank the heavens– at last, the bespectacled brunette reached the vehicle before it's departure and let out a heaved sigh. Wiping her forehead with a handkerchief, she cannot wait to see what the new city had in store.
For a young, achieving woman like her.
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He tapped his foot fervently. His knee moving up and down in undulating motion.
"Make sure to have the guest feel welcomed, Cooper." President Seibert told him on that first day of the beginning of the week.
The man wondered how 'welcomed' the newbie should be. How patient he needed to be. Or how damn sorry the guest and the council will be in robbing him of his precious time.
"They've got a thing coming from me." He growled, now pacing the floorboards in the grand main halls. His movements jerked as if a tick, a parasite attached itself to his skin. Crawling its way up.
The view outside the window has deteriorated from the number of bird faeces on every inch of surface.
Wonderful.
He never understood sarcasm, yet he, ironically, did not catch the underlying tone creeping within him.
Feeling his forbearance wearing thin, Dr. Cooper moved about underneath the gold gilded chandeliers, striding past each stony column. Sparkling sunlight softly streamed through the window in a well mannered announcement of the risen sun. Diamonds from its bright richness flowed, glowing rainbow hues onto the wall like the greatest of nature's graffiti.
Absent-mindedly, he approached the end of the wide hallway with hands behind his back. Waiting was, frankly, not his best forté.
The old grandfather clock chimed loudly and he closed his jaded eyes.
The office of his was located at the end of a long stone corridor, so that to reach it, one had to walk the distance, each boot step echoing between the polished mahogany panels of the walls and announcing the visitor well in advance of arrival.
And so, the clunking shuffles of footsteps reached his hearing, and endowed to his great relief for the godsend coming his way. With the boisterous cough, his head whipped towards his right to see the incoming figure.
The person stopped in their tracks as they caught the man straining his neck to get a good glimpse.
"Ahem, h-how do you do, Mr. Cooper." A gent's voice tripped over his words.
Finally.
He was about to see the new respected, highly reputable said doctor.
In spite of his insides burning from the casual degrading title, he pushed through to reply professionally when his gaze halted to the man standing before him.
Oh.
It was undoubtedly Howard Wolowitz. His poor excuse of a disguise could fool no one. Not even Dr. Cooper, no less. Mr. Wolowitz was part of the technology research group in the department. The very person who was the object of Cooper's unseemly disrespect towards the field.
It was safe to say that to the technician's surprise, he was alarmed to see him, as well as the physicist's.
"What on earth are you doing here, wearing such dire garments?" Dr. Cooper demanded.
"And what are you here for, lingering in this part of the building?"
Their voices came to a manner of whisper-yelling, unneeded at the same time futile– their silent banter clambering through the walls.
"Your wig is ridiculous! You do see that it is slipping from that tiny head of yours."
"My wardrobe is nothing to be discussed about!"
Their tête-à-tête was disturbed by the noise of a bird flapping its wing outside which impelled Mr. Wolowitz to scramble behind a column.
The comic behavior spurred Dr. Cooper to duck his head, shutting his eyes with his index and thumb placed on top of them.
It itched him to arrange the frenzied, bleached wig and fake mustache which were not even in the correct places, presenting the other man as a very inferior and exaggerated example of Einstein.
"Were you not supposed to be running your transistor radio? And what is it that led you to this.. this certain appearance?" The physicist eyed him up and down with an inquisitive crease on his face.
"Do be quiet! I am hoping to wiggle myself for a day off. Now if you excuse me, I'll be on my way."
However, the taller man moved his body towards the right, blocking his coworker's path. "You have come for something, Howard. Perhaps to retrieve a forgotten item?"
"I do not know what you mean, you must've gotten the wrong man." The lad furtively looked around the room.
"Your acting skills are severely terrible."
"And you are painfully excruciating."
The grim man didn't move an inch, his eyebrow in a perfect arch as if the other man owed him an explanation.
"So I reckon that you are the gatekeeper now?"
"Why would you speculate this idea?" For a genius, Dr. Cooper's oblivion was aggravating. So the innocent yet tiresome reply thwacked the increasingly drained technician like a returning arrow after being aimed at a tough barrier.
Gritting his teeth, he elucidated, "Let me pass through. Alright, so I have stolen an integrated circuit board and a speaker from the chemistry workshop. But I am not a guilty man. Their supplies look much better than ours, you see. Now, don't you ask any more questions!"
The physicist accepted his response, stepping aside.
Before Wolotwitz continued on his way, a thought formed in his mind, making him turn back.
"You did not answer my question though."
"I presumed you are not interested." The physicist answered.
Yet the man's stilled body indicated the latter, allowing Dr. Cooper to resume.
"They asked of my assistance for the new guest introductory."
A gasp was let out. "And they asked you?"
This reaction made the dark-haired man squint his eyes at him.
"I mean, they too have asked me to go meet the person, but I declined. It is because I do not want to partake any matter with yet another inept scientist. Well… at least it won't be bad because you'll be leading the meeting. That lucky guest will keep this memory for a long time."
If he hadn't known better, the engineer was crooking up a smile, again his endless incomprehension of sarcasm failing him.
"Good, I'll leave you to it."
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She was now here.
As the saying goes, "so close yet so far", it remains no more .
The young woman had disembarked to the grandest place she had been looking forward to. All her adrenaline and hasty behavior all washed away when she took in the scene before her. Her breath was immediately taken by the massive land of vast gardens extended artistically around the old mighty facility.
Remarkably gorgeous. Quaint even. Like a picturesque landscape; daffodils and lavenders littered the sides, stretching to the pavements. As if the beauty of nature was battling the man made works for its share in space. To her, it was like looking at the art of Renaissance through a Time Machine.
Her lungs breathed in the fresh air, a new exhilaration compiling in her bosom... reviving her.
Other people may simply saw the university as an old, monotonous, dull institute. However, she saw the fiery passion, soul, history and life within its walls and structure.
Stories she'd heard from this singular piece of commodity dawdled in her mind, and so she could not wait to begin her journey. To be part of history's memoir, and to live this splendid dream.
Inviting herself inside, one shoe gently crept beyond its wide doorway. From the entry, she drank in the sight of the interior. Not leaving one inch from her prospect. It felt magical. And the passageway, oh such pleasantness. Upon entering the city's longest vestibule, the academy was spacious and just as marvelous as its exterior.
Although the place was filled with a uniform color of russet and evergreen, it was in an excellent contrast to the walls that had the tiniest yet splendid designs. Her movement halted shortly by one column to the next. The sleek pillars of concrete and lumber concealed her whole being as she walked past before her small frame reappeared once again.
Her mouth was agape. Her fingers clutched her long satchel. And her viridescent, olive eyes lost themselves in wonderment.
A new chapter of her life was right here. In this very place. A new beginning for the long awaited woman. What will she be settled for? She knew. Or perhaps she had not. Life was full of twists and turns. In that moment, with another step, a wooden grandfather clock ticked rather loudly beside her. With a glance, a smile crept onto her lips.
Her eyes then searched.
But there was no one there. The area was void and secluded.
Continuing on her peaceful saunter through the bright corridors, the young woman swept her maple hair over her shoulder, her mind virtually deep in her surroundings.
The mid-twentieth century. A new age for women in America. It was the decade when the aftermath of World War II had very much punctured the minds of citizens. After a decade of Great Depression and another five years of war, many people turned inward and focused more on family.
Then came the turbulent notion of marriage. With procreation atop of that.
It was a cultural asset for women to marry, bear children, and devote themselves in maintaining the title of caretaker for the household chores. Whereas, men would work to support their families.
That was all the ideal woman ever was. They remembered the child's allergies, designed the shopping list, and knew where the spare set of keys was. They forgave their partners' absences, the forgetfulness, the one-track mindedness while they were busy organizing a playdate for the kids. They applauded their husbands' success: the grant that was received, the promotion. It was men's doing, and theirs in the background.
Their image was heavily molded by the popular culture. It appeared frequently in women's magazines, in hit movies, and on television. Thus, it driven the same desire of the world's women to achieve that so-called perfection. And so, in America, many women conformed to this role of a 'happy' homemaker.
But she perceived the dire, one way thinking as simple-minded. The conviction where marriage was the only ticket to happiness.
To idealize the role of men as providers, she found this normality to be redundant. Albeit the trend began to shift as local services were offered to them, impacting her cohorts to find mediocre jobs positions. However, she had a fervor and dedication for something else.
Gender differences in academia were captured by its disparities, sustaining the considerable dichotomy between male and female gender roles. Especially in the more serious, crucial, and professional setting.
Way back, medieval women only held jobs in monastic scriptoria as illustrators of manuscripts, poets, artists, and so forth. All of which was stemming from this eminent key: emotions. Therefore, these "female type" works were expected of them.
Whereas, she reasoned that she was disjoined from such tasks. She did not wear her emotions on her sleeves.
She kept them all tucked away. Hysteria was not her strong suit. The part she dared not go onboard.. or lest perchance she convinced herself to not to?
They say a good laugh, or even a cry is important.
But it was her who was in control of her feelings. A doorkeeper of her emotions, ignoring the waves of hefty, unrealistic sentiments... Needless even.
"Suppressing your emotions can be damaging," came the saying she'd hear all the time from her associates.
However, she plainly believed it to be a coping mechanism used to hide and push away what people truly fear. A construction of a dark heart with a pitch black, deep pit of barrenness. Vacancy of nothingness.
For her, she denied the tremendous societal pressure to focus the aspirations on a wedding ring. While couples were tying the knot, she had open doors to her own liberty. To defy the common stereotype where women only went to college to get a "Mrs." degree. She was not one to be pushed down. While most married women walked down the aisle by age nineteen, she walked her own walk in her age of early thirties.
Though a husband may have been far more important than ambition for another woman, she did not judge too critically. She understood that it was the way to receive public's praise. Yet, it was just not her.
To her sincerest regret, marriage had always been a must. But it wasn't a must to be truly happy or satisfied.
The world was seen in her own rational view, serving her display of little concern for subjective cultural perceptions. She paid no attention to these social customs. While other little girls dreamt of Prince Charming, she always sought to be an independent woman. With the help of her mother's wishes, it was drilled in her head so deeply that she believed she will forever be married to her work.
For this, she did not apologize for her ambition.
Societal norms and unwritten rules shall not defy her.
"Oh my." A whisper left her lips, bringing herself towards the far corner where a brilliant blue orchid situated inside a well-sculpted vase. What was it doing all alone over here in the dark? A superb semi-sapphire lingered in the amphora with very attractive smooth dark green foliage for its tiny leaves. You are beautiful. What a cruel world it is out there, isn't it? Overshadowed by darkness yet you still shine. She gave a melancholy smile, the tips of her fingers touching its petals. You are not alone.
Then something caught her attention. Like a sparkle, it reflected her twinkling eyes. Her gaze then moved over the sole flower to see something behind it. What was it that was beside it? She looked on, surprised after discovering what it was. A pink, solex carnation? Her brows scrunched. Followed by its seperated, butter yellow-green stem, this one displayed a striking shade of shell pink to a deep red on its petals. It was an entirely different species from the vanda coerulea. Yet here it was. Next to the latter. This elicited a small laugh from her chest. Two different colors. Two different species. But they were both the jewels of spring. Both shared a single vase.
And you know what? They didn't look bad. It seemed that... almost, just almost... they looked sublime together.
Subsequently, she saw a photograph hanging on the wall above the drawer and the plants. Two men were inside the black-and-white frame. It was too high to see from her insignificant height. With her terrible eyesight, she could only make out the blurred faces. Only one of them was smiling. It was a seeming juxtaposition as the other fellow without the cheerful ambience was the one receiving the award in his hands. Even on her tiptoes, she, for the life of her, could not see the particular face.
Unfounded curiosity coursed through her veins. With no utter reason, why was she prying like so?
All of a sudden, a sound emitted from behind her. She jolted by the unanticipated presence of another individual in her midst. With a quick turn, she heard it once again coming from the room two doors away. The external stimuli made her remember all at once where she should be heading.
Her heeled dress shoes tapped the floorboards steadily closer to the source of the noise.
She planted her ear on the door to hear if anyone was at the president's desk. There was no more of that noise. Not a single sound. Was this the supposed place? Should she enter? Surely, she must had enough time to–
In an instant, the door abruptly swung open, knocking off her balance.
She took a sharp breath, her hands no longer touching the door, but feeling the hollowness of air.
The room was spinning. The world was tilting. Her body shifted backwards before a powerful grip closed in on her wrist, and she was strongly pulled forwards. A fearful gasp escaped from her and her eyes shut tightly, bracing herself to meet the ground.
But the ground never came.
Only something soft yet firm was felt against her palms. Something broke her fall. Something warm. Something resilient. It was the breathing above her head that threw her in grim realization. This was a person. Another live being right in front of her. Her body was full of dread, hopelessly wishing that she could close her eyes forever.
It was the sound of someone clearing their throat that prompted her to open her eyes.
The first thing she realized was that she had crashed onto someone's chest. In front of her nose was a gray necktie and a neatly pressed black vest. The fragrance of dry-cleaning involuntarily filled her nostrils. Upon withdrawing herself a bit, her chin rose up and her gaze slowly proceeded to meet another pair of eyes staring intensely right back at her. Soundlessly, her lips parted slightly and her jaw dropped as she felt all the air being stolen from her lungs.
There in her presence, stood a fair, tall, and rather attractive man. It was hard to not notice his incredible height; her forehead was barely reaching past his stark, wide shoulders. And those half-lidded mysterious eyes that seemed to twinkle of eminence yet whisper an unknowing gentleness. She'd never seen such dark blue, azurean eyes. The bluest kind drowning her in like the ocean. However, to her surprise, those pairs of eyes seemed to be displeased, piercing right through her with such odd coldness. Up till this moment, she'd been silently blinking back at the face of a stranger. So up close. She never was less than a meter of distance between someone else. Yet here she was, blinking wildly like a lost mouse. That frivolous and mischievous rodent in her lab.
Little did the unlucky girl know that the man she collided with was none other than the esteemed man of science.
Jumping back, she tore her gaze, casting down on her feet. She fully registered to her horror how she had rudely thrusted herself upon the arms of a stranger, forcing in on their personal space.
Why, oh why, was it that she decided to partake in the misconduct of snooping?
They locked eyes again. And this time, her pulse heightened.
"I'm most terribly sorry," she nimbly let out. Except her voice cracked, merely blurting out as an incomprehensible noise. The man didn't reply, smoothing his vest as if straightening any imaginary creases she may have caused. If she didn't know any better, he was indignantly shaking his head with irritation. When he raised his eyes back at her, she unconsciously held her breath before opening her lips, "I just came in, hoping to see the administrator, Mrs. Hoggs. You see I have.."
"If you're looking for Madame Hoggs, you're on the wrong floor." Came the quick sharp retort.
"Ah, am I? But I believe the old gentleman sitting beside the toll gate has directed me here."
"You seem to be contradicting my words."
"Oh no, I don't mean such ill intention. I'm afraid I am only lost."
"That's right. You're out of place."
The harsh tone of his made her wince. By the heavens, this callous behavior was certainly something she had not seen coming.
"I have never seen you here before– I ask that you leave."
"Leave?" But she had only gotten here! Was there some form of a mistake?
"I think we have come to a misunderstanding," she tried.
Had the small mishap shaken him? If anger had a face, it was resting perfectly on his features.
Her troubled yet perplexed observance followed his movements as he checked his watch. She surmised he was waiting for someone.
The dark-haired stranger was overcome with a grouchy mood. Going on in the man's head was the persistence of asking himself about the presence of the new guest. He was late. All possible kindling of delight for the newcomer had now vanished.
Dr. Cooper then regarded her fully, his eyes stilled on her demeanor.
It caused her to stand rigidly with discomfort. Her insides began to churn, riling the brunette for it was rude for him to analyze her in this perturbing manner. Although, she did not know Dr. Cooper's character, hence not understanding that he was observing her impartially.
He swore he'd never forget any of the faces in the faculty, however, he merely fraternized with anyone.
In his conclusion, only a suspicion remained. Good old paranoia submerged from its crate.
"Lost you say? The cleaning room is above this floor. Why would a maidservant extend her sojourn in this area? Except if you, most likely, are poking your nose in places where it should not be. Perhaps stealing information? I demand that this interference is unwarranted, and not something I shall tolerate."
The glower on his countenance did not waver, fierce eyes unblinking. Not thievish now, are you?
Her complexion was vividly flushed by now. That was the last straw for her.
It could be because he was deliberately denouncing her intrusiveness, though she'd dispute that it was highly unjustified. And hear him misjudge her? Oh ho, he was so sure of himself.
A maidservant? A maidservant! Well, I'll be!
"Excuse me sir, but is this how you treat all your visitors? It is quite atrocious to have this kind of welcoming. I have never seen such an awful lack of hospitality." Her own irritation bit back, growing by the second.
"If I may strongly add, is name-calling the way to warm up towards the new employees in the workplace?"
The words rolled into him. What did she mean by employee? Was it intended for him to lead the introductory interview with two people? He did not remember Mrs. Willow saying anything of the sort. There was to be only one who was going to come today.
He continued to glare at the woman whose chagrin aura was now replaced with daring confidence and her new worn ire.
Dr. Lee Cooper never made this kind of mistake. His presumptions were always right. What was the job she spoke of? It might be a receptionist, a librarian, or perhaps the new cafeteria cook even. If she was the new employee…
Then who was…
"Oh, Dr. Fowler! It's good to finally have you here!" The recognizable, booming voice squawked from the foyer.
The noise muddled the two, the arising tension dissipating between them.
His jaw slacked. He swallowed.
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And it was now his turn to be red.
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/My, how the tables have turned./
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