"How much longer do we have to be up here, Doctor? My ass is starting to hurt."
Violet sat back in her harness, kicking off of the rock face with a foot, turning herself to face the grouping of young botanists hanging beside her. The field team responsible for the damaged sample from the Karpos Mountains were scattered across the rock, each working diligently to excavate and take samples from the cliff face. The fair haired botanist beside her looked over at her from where he dangled from his belay in front of a patch of gray-green lichen, collection scalpel gripped in a gloved hand. He watched her with an anticipatory look, the dark haired doctor raising a brow at his question as she turned back to the rock.
"That depends, Donaghy," she said plainly, grunting as she pulled herself up the rock face so that she hovered over him. "Keep turning in compromised samples and you'll find yourself sleeping up here. Now, show me again."
He sighed, Violet watching as he gently gripped the lichen, inspecting it for a worthwhile section to sample. He selected a leaf, giving her a hopeful look, Violet approving his action with a nod of the head. He took the plant gently in one hand, slicing through it with the scalpel with the other, and gingerly placing it inside of a vial. He looked back to Violet, who nodded again.
"Good, tag it and take a root sample next. I want to see it when you are finished," she instructed, starting her climb towards the next member of the team. Her foot slipped on the stone, sending a spray of crumbled rock down below, Violet swinging out over the floor of Greenhouse #2 fifty feet below.
The team's horrendous fuck up had resulted in a morning of hands on training. Each member of the team had spent the past three and a half hours suspended on one of the several, vast manufactured cliff faces that served as the interior of the greenhouse known to the department as the Rock, webbed and draped in a variety of rock-dwelling plants that spread across the surface. Violet found herself clipped into her own belay beside them as she checked their work to clear them to return to the field, field bag clipped around her waist as she corrected, instructed, and marked off on each of their clearance forms.
She didn't necessarily mind the work; only the fact that it had to be done in the first place. Her previous colleagues had warned her about her new position and the lack of field work she would be subjected to, and they had been sorely right. The time spent on the wall had been the closest she had come to the work she loved the most in the few months she had been at FLEETCOM, Violet grateful for the feeling of stone under her fingertips and the ache in her muscles as she climbed, breathing in the earthy scent of disturbed soil.
The belay device above her whirred as she climbed, the ropes clipped to her harness feeding into the cylindrical brake system bolted into the top of the wall with each inch she ascended. She twisted her grip onto one hand, fingers grasping at a protrusion in the wall as she analyzed the surface for her next movement. Sweat beaded on her body, Violet feeling the trickle down her back, wiping it from her brow with the sleeve of the thin long sleeve she had changed out of her uniform into. She spotted the next natural handhold, just slightly out of grasp. She shifted, releasing a breath as she focused on the spot, summoning her strength and propelling herself upwards towards it. After a series of short, deliberate movements, she found herself over the next team member, the fine hairs that had escaped from her bun sticking to her neck.
The climb has served as a welcome distraction as well from the smiley face that had clouded her mind since the night before. She had flipped back and forth into their message thread on her pad, reading over the brief exchange over and over again, examining it as if it were some ancient, forgotten language she needed to decipher. She hadn't been prepared to hear from him when the message vibrated her pad on her nightstand, throwing blue light into the darkened room. She had picked it up without much thought, expecting to see a reminder pop up regarding the upcoming training at the Rock the following morning. She had audibly gasped when she saw the three messages on her screen, lined up neatly, one after the other, her stomach falling into her ass as she paused the trashy dating reality show she had been mindlessly watching as Sadie snored beside her in bed. She had paced the floor of her bedroom after she responded, whispering curses under her breath at the use of the stupidly uncreative nickname she had used for him in response to 'goose girl'. She had practically leapt onto the bed when his response came in, Sadie letting out a frustrated groan at the disruption to her sleep.
She had stared at the collection of punctuation that served as his final message of the night the following morning as she poured her coffee, still trying to make sense of the meaning. What had he meant by it? Had he meant anything by it? She had agonized over it all morning, typing out different messages and promptly deleting them as she found fault in every line she wrote out, chastising herself for allowing herself to act so childish. Besides, he was the Master Chief. And she was just… Violet. But the night before, as they stood in the rain, he had laughed at her jokes, he called her funny, he had walked her home and thrown the ball for her dog and had just been… John. Rain soaked and waiting for her beside the pond. And she had just been Violet.
The botanist below her cleared her throat, pulling Violet's thoughts from John and back to the cliff side. She used her finger to lift the root system of the plant the young woman had gently pried from the crack in the rock it grew from, checking for external damage to the thin soil covered veins. "Good. Next time, try not to remove as much of the plant from the rock. It could go into shock and have a difficult time recovering. It could lead to us losing the whole plant."
The young woman nodded, opening her mouth to respond. A different voice called Violet's name; a deep husky voice booming up from the base of the wall that made her skin feel too tight.
"Doctor Harris!"
She twisted, one foot keeping her anchored to the wall as she looked down, finding John at the bottom of the wall in his black undersuit. Her stomach fluttered when he smiled up at her from where he stood, eyes following her as she swayed side to side, her toes pressed to the rock. He looked out of place among the various potted plants surrounding him; work tables full of seedlings and soil. She returned his smile, giving him a little wave, which he returned. She heard the team begin to whisper around her, eyes fixed upon the Spartan below.
"Holy shit, is that Master Chief?" Someone whispered. Violet looked up at the team, finding them all staring down as if they were watching a caged animal and not another human being. She rolled her eyes at the lack of decorum, clearing her throat.
"Alright," she called out, ropes creaking as the five climbers turned to face her, "That's enough for today. Thanks, everyone."
A collection of relieved groans and grumbles about numb rear ends and legs sounded as they kicked off the wall, belay devices whining under the weight of their rappel down the wall. She remained on the wall, John smiling up at her from the ground below. The team watched him with wide eyes, whispering to one another as they detached themselves from their ropes and removed their harnesses, tossing them into the basket at the base of the wall haphazardly and slipping out of their soft climbing shoes, replacing them with their stiff uniform boots. John adopted a neutral expression as they passed, crossing his arms and nodding in response to the greetings of "Master Chief" given as the team made towards the exit, peeking over their shoulders with astonished glances.
Donaghy remained, jerking sharply at the carabiner that attached his harness to the belay device at the top of the wall. Violet watched as the clip slipped out of his hand, the brake drum of the device pulling the rope straight up the wall with a screech as it whizzed up towards her quickly.
She saw John's neutral demeanor falter, taking a few helpless steps towards the wall, a hand reached up towards her as he shouted, "Watch out!"
Violet pushed off the wall, swinging away from where the clip cracked against the wall beside her and sent a shower of rock shards tumbling below. John covered his face with his outstretched arm to block himself from the sharp rock, Violet cursing as she watched the clip smack against the device at the top. She swung back towards the wall, bracing herself with her feet, heart pounding as she looked down to shoot a look at the young botanist. She found that Donaghy's eyes were no longer on the wall, but on the Spartan across from him who's own scowl made Violet's look like a cheery grin. Donaghy sputtered, nervously looking between John and where Violet hung before calling up, "Sorry, Doctor Harris!"
She sighed, rubbing her chest where her heart still thundered. She waved the botanist on, Donaghy taking one final look at John before practically running to the exit. Violet looked up the remaining few meters to the top of the wall where the belay devices sat, tracking her path from her location on the wall to the top.
"Be down in a sec!" she called down. John looked up at her still, nodding.
She clambered up the wall to the errant hook, giving it a hard tug down and straining against the tension as she clipped it to her harness. She released the hand break that allowed her to descend from the top, a gentle whirring filling her ears as she kicked off the wall, rappelling down, down, down in great leaps.
"This is a surprise," she called as her feet found the wall, steadying herself before pushing off again and releasing the hand brake, the rope whizzing through as she descended a few meters before applying the hand brake again. She regretted her choice of words instantly as she touched down again on the wall, Violet tucking her feet under herself and letting herself dangle about ten feet from the ground. He barely had to lift his chin to peer up at her, that same soft look from the park in his eyes as she added hurriedly, "A good surprise. Sorry about them. We don't get many visitors out here."
"I tried your office. They told me I might find you out here," he explained, then adding quickly, "I sent you a message."
She glanced to where her pad sat on the work bench below, untouched over the last several hours. "Sorry," she said sheepishly, "I've been up here all morning."
He nodded, looking around him at the various cliff faces and plant life.
"I've lived on this base my entire life and have passed these buildings a couple hundred times. I had no idea all of this ," he gestured with a finger in a sweeping motion around them, "was in here."
"We botanists are a secretive bunch," she shrugged, "Can't let you Spartans have all the fun now, can we?"
He huffed out a laugh, a low throaty sound that made her skin prickle. "Guess not," he agreed, still looking around the greenhouse, "The air feels thinner in here."
"Because it is. The greenhouse was designed to simulate high elevation environments so we can study the plants that grow there in their ideal conditions," she explained, kicking herself off the wall and allowing herself to swing absently. John tensed at the motion, taking a step towards the wall, a nervous expression on his face. She kicked off again, swinging back, his eyes following her, "So technically, we're about 6500 meters above sea level without leaving the ground."
Her feet touched down on the opposite side of the wall, John still watching her with an intensity as she swayed. His shoulders stiffened as she kicked off again, her foot slipping as she touched down, Violet curling her toes to correct herself before she could slam against the wall. She watched as the sharp line of his jaw set, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. She released the hand brake again, continuing her rappel down.
"Am I making you nervous?" she giggled, her feet finding the wall again a few feet above where he stood.
"I've already found at least 15 ways you can injure yourself up there."
"Me?" she pressed a hand to her chest, John rolling his eyes, the shadow of a smirk lifting his mouth, "Hurt myself? Please, you insult me. I'm basically a pro at this thing. Watch."
She leaned backward, allowing her weight to flip her over, watching an upside down John reach for her again, panic flickering in his eyes. She pressed her feet together against the rope, lifting an arm over her head in a showy motion. John shook his head, the panic replaced by amusement as he chuckled at her. Violet grinned at him, suddenly very aware of how close her face was to his as she hung there.
"See? I've got it all under control," she stated proudly.
The rope swung backward, bringing her back banging against the wall with a pained grunt. Her raised hand went to the back of her head, rubbing the place where it had collided with the rock. John laughed, grabbing the rope and pulling her away from the wall.
"Sure. Get down."
"Okay," she let out an exaggerated sigh as she righted herself, rappelling down the last few feet at his request. Her feet hit the greenhouse floor, the tension in his shoulders noticeably fading, "But not because you told me to."
He rolled his eyes as she unclipped the second carabiner that hooked her harness to Donaghy's rouge rope and held it out to John, "Can you hold this while I unclip? Be careful," she commented, John taking the clip from her hand as she looked down to undo her own, "It has a bit of a pull."
She unclipped her own rope, fighting the sharp tug upward that came as soon as it left her harness, looking up at John. He held his own rope as if it were a balloon string, unbothered by the upward tension as he watched her, now embarrassed by her own struggle with her rope. She pointed towards the anchor hooks at the base of the wall, giving a hard tug toward to create a bit of slack as she secured it to the wall. John replicated her motions with an astounding ease, wiping the chalky dust that had transferred onto his hands on the leg of his black undersuit.
She busied herself with loosening her harness, John's eyes roaming over the greenhouse again with a wonder she had never expected to see in the eyes of a Spartan. "Are they all like this?" He asked.
"This one is the only one with climbable walls. You should come out for a tour sometime," she tossed her harness into the basket with the others, wiping her hands on her pants, "They're actually pretty neat."
"I might have to take you up on that," he said, peering up the wall. "I assume you have a favorite out of all of these? Or does a botanist not have a favorite plant?"
"Oh, we surely do. Well, my favorite that we do have would have to be the giant ferns in Greenhouse #1," she explained, "But we actually don't have my favorite plant here."
"Yeah? What would that be?"
She hoped the giddy smile that split her face at the mention of her favorite plant didn't come off as off-putting as she took the few steps to the workbench her data pad rested on, snatching it off. She noticed his message as she unlocked it, sent two hours prior;
117: Hey goose. Was hoping to see you today. Busy later?
She tried her best not to blush at the nickname, flicking the message to the side and opening her digital catalogs, scrolling with a finger.
"I haven't encountered one in the field, which makes it dumb that it's my favorite, but I came across it during my studies and it's just the coolest thing I've ever seen," she caught herself, swallowing hard to slow the increasingly quick cadence in which she had started speaking. She tapped at her pad until the image of a lily with large, silvery petals appeared, holding it out to John.
"There's this flower, the lilium floraphos, that grows in low light environments deep within the rainforests of a few outer colony planets. They only get about two to three hours of direct sunlight at a time, so at some point in its evolution, it began to store energy from those few hours of sunlight within its cells and produce its own light to photosynthesize with. It'll just open up and produce this silvery light until the plant has collected all of the energy it needs to sustain itself, and then close again until it finds itself in need again. There are records of explorers encountering them, believing they came across a fallen star."
She gestured to the image as she spoke, John watching her fingers glide against the different parts of the plant. At some point in her rambling, he had placed his hand under her own that supported the pad, tilting it towards him so he could view the image better. His hand was warm and calloused under hers, covering hers entirely. She felt too hot in the air conditioned building.
"That was a painfully long, specific answer to your question," she said sheepishly, brushing her bangs out of her eyes absently, embarrassingly aware of the thin layer of sweat that covered her whole body. "I can get a bit carried away. Sorry."
She looked up, finding him still watching her with those soft eyes. He had just the faintest bit of brown in his green eyes, she noticed.
"Don't be," he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, Violet wondering if the lower oxygen levels had finally caught up to her when she found it difficult to breathe. "It was nice."
Her pad chimed, both looking down at the message that illuminated her screen, Violet sighing as she read over Lorelei's message requesting her presence back in the lab. John dropped his hand, Violet feeling a tinge of disappointment in the absence of its warmth, her skin tingling where his thumb had brushed over it. She tapped back a quick response to Lorelei, tucking her pad under an arm and looking up at John.
"I have to head back," she said apologetically, John watching as she gathered her things.
"Can I walk you to the lifts?" He asked, falling into step with her as she moved towards the exit. Violet nodded wordlessly as they traveled the spice bush and wild hydrangea lined path to the exit. She peered out at the gray skies, rain bouncing off the pavement outside of the greenhouses in a thick sheet. She grabbed the large black umbrella she had found in her office from beside the door and undid the strap, John stepping beside her.
"Wanna share? I feel badly enough about how wet you got last night, I'd hate for you to catch a cold."
"I can't catch colds," he stated.
She nodded, making an acknowledging sound at his comment, wishing she could sink straight into the ground. Of course they couldn't, she thought. She raised the umbrella, opening it overhead as they stepped out of the greenhouse. She grimaced when the umbrella poked him in the back of the head with a surprised blink, muttering out an apology. His response was a brush of his fingers against hers as he took the umbrella, her body tingling as if his touch were a live wire. He positioned the umbrella over the two of them, the large umbrella looking like a child's toy over him, "Here. I've got it."
"Are you implying that I'm too short, big guy?" She joked.
"Your words, not mine."
"I hate to have to break it to you, but I fear your height is not the target demographic of my umbrella. So if anyone's height is a problem, I don't think it's mine." She teased, John shaking his head as he grinned.
"Is that your official observation, Doctor?" He asked with a chuckle.
"Consider it observed, documented, and cataloged. I'll be waiting for the Spartan Research Department to reach out for my findings."
He chuckled again, Violet feeling the vibration of his body in the excruciating proximity. They stepped out in the rain, her shoulder clumsily bumping his elbow as she attempted to keep his much wider stride, the Spartan adjusting his step to keep beside her. She stepped to the side, trying to keep an appropriate distance under the average-human-sized umbrella, feeling the heat that radiated from his large body like a furnace. Rain drizzled down the side of her umbrella onto her shoulder that poked out into the elements. He glanced over, noticing the thick water stains that dappled her shoulder.
"You're getting wet," he said, his voice low.
She waved a dismissive hand, "Just a bit. It's fine."
He didn't respond, instead his hand pressing against the curve of her waist, large and strong against her skin and he directed her towards him under the umbrella and out of the rain. Her head pressed against the hard muscle of his bicep, Violet feeling heat climb up her neck. His hand lingered on the small of her back for a moment, unsure and gentle, before it dropped to his side.
"Better?"
"Better," she forced out breathlessly.
They walked the remaining distance to the lifts in silence, John keeping stride with her in what she was sure was a maddeningly slow pace for the man. At one point, they both opened their mouths to speak, their words tumbling over one another's before they both let out an apprehensive chuckle, returning to the silence as they continued towards the lifts. John lowered the umbrella as they approached, handing it to her as they stood in front of the door.
"Are you...?" She pointed upwards in question, pressing the call button.
He shook his head, jerking a thumb behind him, "I'm this way, actually."
She nodded, the two sharing a silent smile as the lift doors opened. She swallowed, her mouth feeling abnormally dry as she spoke.
"If you're not busy tonight," she began, the words flooding from her, "there's a quartet playing at the amphitheater in the park I wanted to check out. I've heard them play from my apartment and would love to see them perform in person. Would you want to come?"
"I would." His response came without hesitation.
Violet chewed her lip, biting back the grin that threatened to split her face as they lingered in front of the lift.
"Okay," she managed, the lift doors sliding open to a group of officers all focused upon their datapad screens.
He gave her a nod, his own lips lifting into a small smile, "Okay."
Violet tugged nervously at the hem of her jacket as she walked the path to the amphitheater. The persistent rain that had settled over Reach continued to drizzle on, dampening the curls she had quickly tamed her hair into upon returning home that evening. She regretted not wearing something with a hood, but the frantic pile she had left upon her bed had left her feeling as if she hated just about every article of clothing she owned. Her umbrella did little against the misty rain that hung over the park.
Sadie had nearly had a fit when Violet breezed through the apartment in a whirlwind of primping and changing, the pup waiting patiently by the door for her evening walk. It had taken a fair amount of treats and belly scratches to satiate the irate dog, especially at the mention of John's name. Violet had been able to push past her as she slipped out of the apartment with a final adjustment of her hair in the mirror and a nervous sigh, her stomach twisting anxiously.
She had visited the small amphitheater on the far side of the park only a handful of times. It usually housed local musicians, all of which she could hear from her apartment if she left the balcony door open, their music carried in on the breeze like her own private concert. She checked the few posted directories as she watched, triple checking that she wasn't headed in the wrong direction and leaving him waiting.
She turned the corner, fiddling nervously with her hair as John came into view, the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. He straightened up when he saw her, that soft smile lifting his mouth. She returned his smile, but it faltered as she looked beyond him, confusion washing over her as she saw the empty amphitheater.
"Where is everyone?" She asked, worrying that she had mistaken the date or time of the performance.
John gestured to the notice posted on the sidewalk, announcing the cancellation of all park activities under the reason of inclement weather. She let out a groan.
"Guess not everyone is willing to stand out in the rain," she sighed, swapping the shoulder her umbrella rested on as she stepped in front of John.
"Guess not," he repeated.
Disappointment bubbled in her chest as she glanced back at the amphitheater, the stone benches glistening with rainwater. An uncertainty came over her as she looked back at John, his eyes still fixed upon her from under his hood as he watched her patiently. She swallowed hard as her mind reeled, unwilling to leave the night there.
She pointed in the direction of her apartment, shrugging slightly. "We're not too far from my place. I have a bottle of wine I've been meaning to open. We could just," John watched her with that quiet, soft intensity that made her thoughts feel hazy as she searched for her next words, her hand falling to her side as she finished, "talk. Besides, I'm sure Sadie would love to see her new favorite person."
He tilted his head in the way he had several times when they spoke, as if straining to hear a far away sound. She matched the action, offering him a soft smile.
"What is that?" She asked.
"What?"
She copied the motion again, a flicker of recognition in his eyes as if she caught him unprepared. His head straightened, his eyes returning to hers. "I'm just," he paused, "thinking things through."
She smirked, "And how do things look?"
"Perfect."
She smiled, gesturing towards the path with a tilt of the head. "Let's get out of the rain," she said simply, the two stepping towards the path. John took the umbrella from her hand again, raising it above the both of them as they walked. He placed his hand against her waist, but unlike their walk from the greenhouse, she hadn't felt the rain upon her shoulder before he gently guided her to his side.