#control x reader

Casper wasn’t one to usually need help with his work. Though he had a lot of it, he didn’t mind being buried in work; it was not only his livelihood but also his whole life and being.

But lately, it’s been a bit rough on him. More than usual. He wasn’t caught up with the reports provided by his subordinates and key researchers, and his office and lab was a mess to say the least, he was far more focused with the scientific breakthroughs he was on the verge of. He had been taking notes on every sticky note, every white board, every clipboard… like a mad man.

They say rooms are reflective of the mental state of their occupants, and that couldn’t be more accurate when it came to Casper.

With every passing week, he’d only neglect the paperwork more to favor his own research endeavors, it was neglectful, but as the Head of Research, he felt like he could get away with it. There were more pressing matters at hand, after all.

It wasn’t until Dr. Underhill repeatedly would ask if he had read her reports regarding the situation on the mold, and he’d have to make up an excuse as to why he was yet to look at them.

So here he was, sitting in Trench’s office, formally requesting help, just in the meantime, so he could focus more on his research. Usually a matter like this in the bureau could be handled through correspondence, but those damn letters always had a habit of getting lost within the Oldest House.

Trench takes a long drag of his cigarette, staring into Casper’s brown eyes, as if trying to read into them and their intentions.

“Can’t do your own job?” Trench speaks monotonously, continuing to smoke his cigarette without paying much mind to Casper.

Tensions had been somewhat high between Darling and Trench, what was once a close partnership when it came to running the bureau, was now strained. Darling does what he does best and reasons with Trench, citing various reasons as to why this would be beneficial to him and his work.

With as much of a gesture with his finger, he calls over his own personal secretary.

“Ms. L/N, see that Dr. Darling is assisted.”

“Right away, sir.” You respond immediately.

It was no secret in the executive sector that Trench had taken a liking to you; he had picked you from a countless sea of interns at the FBC, and made you into his trustworthy secretary, a position which didn’t really even seem to exist prior to you.

In a matter of minutes, you find yourself walking about the Research sector following behind Dr. Casper Darling, tending to research as well as all the paperwork and reports he wasn’t reading or completing, making his own tasks easier for him.

He’s almost mesmerized by you, watching how you work and operate, no wonder you were Trench’s secretary; what gave his other high clearance subordinates trouble you did with ease.

You stand dutifully by him, neatly taking notes for him, and once his subordinates leave the lab for the day and you’re alone with him, he speaks

“I don’t believe we’ve formally met before.”

You look up at him from your clipboard, raising your eyebrow slightly, almost skeptically.

“I know who you are, Dr. Darling.”

“But I’ve never caught your name. I see you in meetings accompanying Trench quite often.”

“L/N.”

“How long have you been working here, Ms. L/N?” Casper asks curiously, sweetly almost, like he was asking from a genuine place.

“Year.”

“Is that right?” Casper smiles, just trying to make small conversation with you, the man was notoriously friendly and eccentric, but you simply wanted to do your job to please your boss, who was Trench, not him.

“I’m just about done here. I’ll be in executive.” You dismiss yourself, not entertaining his small talk.

He watches as you walk out of his lab, the little clink of your heels fading with each step you take. There was something about you he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Did he find you attractive? Is that really what it was?

You hadn’t payed him any mind; didn’t even look in his direction yet he could only wonder when would be the next time he could possibly see you.

Must be the stress from his work, his eyes weren’t really ever… wandering to women. He was far too absorbed in his work to even think about any of his own needs, too absorbed in his work to even go home at times.

He shrugs it off, opting to get back to his research instead of spending time entertaining the idea that he was even remotely attracted to someone.

~

The next month, he finds himself buried in work again, sitting in Trench’s office; he’s asking if he could possibly request assistance once more.

You can only imagine the disappointment when he realizes the temporary secretary assigned to him was not you.

He still manages to see you around though, see you running around all through executive and the research sector.

“Ms. L/N. Haven’t seen you around for some time.” He lies. He had seen you around, as a matter of fact he always kept an eye out for you whenever he stepped out of his office. He curses himself for being so awkward and tense around you, like he’d never been around someone attractive before.

“We work in different sectors.” You point out blatantly.

Casper’s ears turn a reddish hue at that, he just wanted to make conversation, it was more-so an excuse to speak to you.

He awkwardly chuckles, blushing slightly, “Yeah. Yeah, that’s right.”

“How has.. the, uh, executive sector been treating you then?” He asks, trying to change the subject, pushing up his glasses hoping you don’t notice his flushed ears and face.

“Just fine.” You answer, lifting your head from your clipboard to look at him briefly before continuing to jot something down.

He feels awkward, like a nervous schoolboy talking to his crush. He never was too charming with women, nor did he consider himself a romantic by any means- he was far too awkward and methodical for that.

As you turn to walk away, he reaches out to your shoulder but immediately overthinks it, stopping to hover his hand over your shoulder, but it somehow still gets your attention anyway.

He figures- now’s the time. Maybe he could ask to have some coffee with you in the research sector cafeteria, that wouldn’t be too much would it? It wouldn’t be crossing any lines or anything like that. Just to get to know you?

He quickly overthinks it.

“You don’t suppose you could.. perhaps.. just maybe have a…”

You cock your head to the side, listening to his words which must’ve been so urgent he had to stop you from leaving.

“Ah.. could you… perhaps aid me with my work again?”

The second the words leave his mouth he curses himself for not asking the question he had originally meant to ask. You look a little confused by his question, Darling sheepish over his change of plans.

“You want me… to help you with your workload again?” You ask curiously, genuinely surprised by the question.

“Well, of course. It can be a bit much at times like these.” Darling nervously explains, giving you a polite smile, taking your surprised reaction as a good sign; it isn’t what he originally wanted to ask- but it still meant he got to see you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll check in with Trench and I’ll report to your lab.” Your easygoing nature seemed to floor Casper.

He nods, wanting to bid you goodbye but before he can choose the words to say, you’re gone and off to the elevator. He sighs, he couldn’t believe he cowered from asking to have coffee with you.

He smiles when he sees you walk into his lab, your clipboard in your arm as per usual, ready to report to him.

“Good afternoon, Ms. L/N.” He greets you, bright eyed and with a smile, crinkling his eyes behind the circular frames that adorned his face, his hands in his lab coat pockets.

“What did you need help with?”

“Oh, ah, just some help with keeping my notes and observations tidy while I further some of my research. That’s all.”

“Your research assistants couldn’t have done that for you?”

“Ah, no, no, they’re all busy or out.” He makes up, though he’s not quite sure you’re buying any of it.

“Okay. I can do that for you, Dr. Darling.”

Casper gives you a dorky smile at that.

~

You spend the next five or six hours keeping close observation, scribbling away notes and typing them up for the Head of Research. Into the night.

The tap of the typewriter keys are rhythmic and punchy, making it satisfying once it dings and you’re done typing the notes up into a document.

You tidy the documents, stapling them together and looking over them once more to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

The lab was quiet, you figured Dr. Darling had left the lab to run some nonsensical errands or experiments, or maybe off to some meeting, he was never this quiet. Always making some observation or making playful small talk towards you that never really seemed to go anywhere. You look over to Dr. Darling’s desk, your expression softening when you notice he had fallen asleep at his desk.

You stand up from the stool you were sitting at, walking over to his desk. His eyes closed behind his frames, his breaths gentle and even, peaceful. This surely was the most peaceful you had ever seen the doctor. No frantic thoughts about all his research, no responsibilities over the bureau, just… untroubled, serene.

You smile a little, never having seen him like this. He was adorable. Just a dorky scientist.

You reach out, pushing a strand of his graying dark hair out of his face, gingerly and slowly taking off his spectacles, setting them on the desk in front of him. His crinkled eyes shut closed still.

You smile once more, looking over the empty lab, and once more to him, before stepping out of his lab.

~

You stand in executive, making copies of a couple documents, the electronic hum of the Cold War era copy machine comforting in a strange way.

Dr. Darling walks out of a meeting with Trench, and he sees you, standing at the copy machine.

“Hey!” He greets, taking his hand out of his lab coat pocket to wave, a warm smile causing his eyes to happily squint.

“Dr. Darling.” You greet formally.

He stands by the copier, placing his hands in his coat pockets awkwardly once again, he loved doing that.

“How has.. your day been?” He asks, clearing his throat lightly, talking to you always made him a tad bit nervous. Funny, he could lecture for hours in front of the whole bureau but would struggle to not trip over his words around someone he had taken a liking to.

“Pretty okay. Don’t have much on the agenda for today.” You answer, flipping through the copies of the documents in your hand while the copier made more. They were copies of a memo you had to deliver to one of the sectors.

“How about you, Darling?”

For a second Casper registers it as you calling him ‘darling’ affectionately, almost stupidly forgetting that it’s his own last name, his ears getting a bit warm.

“Let’s see… I’ve got a project to oversee… as well as my own project to attest to… couple things for the prime candidate program….” He trails off, thinking of all the tasks he was meant to do that day.

“… as well as a meeting with a couple of folks from Protective Studies… hey, maybe you should come to that!” He invites, excitedly realizing he could have you tag along, that he could see you a bit more.

“You want me to go to a meeting with you?” You quiz, curious as to how it pertained to you.

“Of course, be my scribe, my secretary for the day.”

“If you want to, of course.” He chuckles, rapidly overthinking the silence in the air between the two of you, adding doubt to his offer.

You finish gathering the copies of the memo from the copier, arranging and holding the stack in your arm.

“I can do that for you.” You smile to him, your smile was contagious, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you smile so vibrantly before; your agreement to his offer making him excited to spend time with you, albeit during work- he hadn’t found the courage to ask you out.

“Wonderful. It’ll be up in one of the Central Research conference rooms, around 4.”

“Got it. I’ll be there early.” You mentally make note of the details.

He grins, the thought of you showing up early merely meant more time around you, the bleak meeting becoming much more exciting than he had previously expected.

“I have got somewhere to be, but… I’ll see you soon, Ms. L/N.” He smiles almost sheepishly, giving you a nod as a goodbye.

“See you there, Dr. Darling.” You smile back to him.

Of course you show up extra early, you were beginning to think you had a thing for the doc. The few times you’ve helped him out he was kind, a little awkward, but sweet - in a way that was endearing. You felt flattered that he had asked you to accompany him for a meeting, though it was probably nothing. You were trying your hardest to convince yourself to take it at face value.

“Ms. L/N!” He greets with a big smile, he seemed to genuinely happy to see you, standing up from where he was sat at the conference table, ushering you in with a gesture of his hands.

You close the glass door behind you, the aroma of coffee flooding your nostrils pleasantly, turning around to see Dr. Darling.

“Come on in! I got you a cup of coffee. I hope it’s to your liking..” he says, standing behind the two spots in the middle of the conference table, presumably the spots that he reserved that would be for the both of you.

You walk over to the other side of the conference table, setting your clipboard and folder down at the table, looking at the documents and files spread out by Darling’s spot, along with the two cups of coffee in front of them. They were in little paper to-go cups with lids that the Research sector’s cafeteria used.

You pick it up the cup of coffee by its cardboard cup sleeve, noticing it read ‘Y/N =)” your first name and a smiley face. You recognized the handwriting, it was neat yet fluid. A scientist’s handwriting. It was Darling’s. You smile at the realization he most likely remembered your first name, despite him never having referred to you as that, merely a formal ‘Ms. L/N.’

You try to hide your grin, taking a sip of the coffee as you sit, Dr Darling sitting next to you.

“Anything I should go over before the meeting?” You ask him, wanting to be prepared.

“Hmm…” Darling thinks aloud, his eyes looking over the various documents and files on the conference table, before picking one, closing it and sliding it on the smooth wooden table to you.

He leans over to you, looking over your shoulder as he moves the file over in front of you.

“Just this, I think.” He says, opening up the file with his left hand.

He explains to you what the meeting pertains to, pointing out a couple things written in the file in front of you, speaking with his hands, his brown eyes a bit intense with conversation; this might be the most eye contact you’ve ever had with him.

Casper stutters over one of the syllables of his words, becoming hyperaware just how close to you he is, admiring how your lips purse up to sip at the coffee he had ordered for you earlier.

“That’s just about the gist of it.” He says, pushing up his glasses.

“Got it.” You affirmed, giving him a nod as you mindlessly crossed your legs.

When the room falls silent, Darling speaks up, hoping the silence wouldn’t make you uncomfortable around him. His body turned to you, as if fully immersed by your presence.

“How’s your day been so far, Ms. L/N?”

You sip at the warm liquid in the cup, setting it down in front of you, your hands in your lap.

“It’s been pretty uneventful today. This would probably be the highlight of it.” You say to him.

He gives you a smile. “This is more likely than not the highlight of my day too.” He manages to say before his face began to warm up, which you notice immediately. His demeanor becoming more sheepish, as if you had flustered him.

Was it something you said?

“Why’s that?” You ask obliviously.

He chuckles, avoiding your gaze, “not sure.”

“Any plans after work today, Ms. L/N?” He asks, quickly moving on from the prior topic.

“No, no, I don’t really ever do much after work.” You answer with a laugh, flattered that one of your bosses believed you had a raving life outside of the Oldest House.

Darling can’t help but let his lips curve into a smile at the pleasant sound of your laughter, a sound he could surely get used to.

“What? Why not?” He asks with a chuckle, his veiny hand fiddling with the cup sleeve of his coffee, his tone much more informal, closer to a friend than a boss.

“Why would I?” You ask curiously, wondering why he seemed to assume that you would.

“You’re young and pretty, I’d figure you must do more than be a wonderful secretary at the bureau.” He doesn’t realize what slips out of his mouth til he hears himself say it, openly complimenting you. He could practically foresee the HR complaint from here.

You give him a smile, taken by surprise by the compliment. Your smile like a beam of warm sunshine shining on him. “I suppose, but I really don’t do anything all that crazy after work.”

He nervously sips at his coffee, trying not to choke, not believing himself and what he had just said to you, setting down the cup.

“I— um, that is to say-“ he fumbles to try and compose himself, adjusting his glasses as if that’ll somehow fix the situation. His ears becoming redder under his salt and pepper hair; but the way you smile at him, so warm and radiant, like he’s the only man on the planet. It makes the situation so much worse- but that much better.

“Right. Of course. No.. no wild nights or anyone waiting up for you?” He mutters almost dryly, nervous. He glances to the door, secretly hoping one of the meeting attendees would walk through the door and save him from this conversation that seemed to get more and more unprofessional by the second.

You shake your head no, still smiling at him. He can’t tell if you just choose to ignore his awkward flirting or genuinely don’t care. But that smile, it makes his heart flutter.

“No after work hobbies? No special someone to get home to?” He asks with a nervous chuckle, he’s trying hard to not come off like he’s fishing for information, but worries it’s coming off exactly like that anyways.

He’s just curious, wanting to know more about you. In his eyes, you were the most fascinating employee to grace the Oldest House.

You confirm once more, explaining to him a few of your hobbies, and that you actually lived alone.

Casper can’t help but be secretly elated, elated to know that he might just have a chance with you…… if he’s your type that is. He’s getting ahead of himself.

Once the meeting attendees show up and it begins, Darling’s mind is hardly on the subject at hand, his mind drifting to your smile and that smidge of hope that he might just have a chance with you, even if it was the smallest percentage of one.

All the meanwhile, you wonder why he’d ask you such a thing. Did you catch feelings for your boss? Something about him was just so endearingly dorky, and watching him speak with such authority and intelligence wasn’t helping fan out these feelings from sparking either.

~

A week later you stand in Executive, having ran a couple of errands for Trench that day. You sip at the mug of coffee, and Darling crosses your mind. You think about what happened last week, and how the man awkwardly indirectly asked if you were single. Surely that wasn’t your imagination. The coffee was a nice gesture, but it was something he didn’t have to do, you wonder if he has done that for his other employees.

You idle, letting your thoughts flow, leaning on the copier you were waiting on.

What was it about him that captivated you? All you could conjure was that dorky smile, the nerdy circular glasses and how he always seemed so nervous around you, you couldn’t help but find it cute.

Your train of thought is interrupted as you overhear one of the assistants say Darling’s name.

Your ears seem to perk up at the mention of his name, you can’t help but eavesdrop. As you listen, you hear her mention she’d be Darling’s assistant for the week. You keep listening, hoping you had misinterpreted her initial words.

You hate how you can’t stop your heart from sinking at that. It was stupid, right? Stupid to think you’d be the only one he’d ever ask for help.

But… why didn’t he ask you?

You feel silly for feeling a bit hurt. A little more than a bit, actually. You sigh, eavesdropping til the two women were out of earshot, talking about Dr. Darling.

As you go about your day, the thoughts follow you, pestering you like a looming rain cloud. You didn’t know why it bothered you so much, actually, you did - it hit like a pang of envy, but were desperately trying to convince yourself it wasn’t; the implication was something you didn’t want to deal with.

The truth is, you wish he would’ve asked you instead.

You deliver correspondence to a couple of people, sighing as you realize the next piece of mail is for none other than the Doctor Casper Darling.

To say you didn’t know the way to his office like the back of your hand is a lie. You take the amount of copious stairs in Central research up to his office. You watch as his secretary walks out of his office, running into her as she walks down the steps.

Darling sits at the table in the center of his office. He had sent off the secretary he had for the day to retrieve something from his lab, he sits, tapping his foot to the ground repeatedly, almost anxiously, it was a bad habit he had. He wishes it was you spending the day with him instead. He wouldn’t have sent you off at all, he would’ve kept you in his office for himself.

He becomes suddenly conscious of the tapping noise his dress shoes produced on the hard floor, stilling his restless leg. He runs a hand through his salt and peppered hair, he knew he overstepped a line when he had very obviously asked you if you were single. He mentally kicks himself, almost cringing as he replays the moment in his head. He was never a charmer by any means, and he definitely could’ve played his hand better in that moment yet here he is, wishing he had an excuse to see you.

Part of him nearly misses who he was prior to ever laying eyes on you, but simultaneously it has felt like an absolute eternity since then, an eternity he was positive he could bathe in.

He watches as the door to his office opens, his facial expression shifting from contemplative to lighting up at the sight of you.

“Ms. L/N, didn’t expect you.” Darling cracks a smile to you.

“Just had to drop this off.” You say in a very neutral tone. You didn’t realize it til you heard your own words be spoken, but you were attempting to hide the slight hurt. His eyes follow your hands as you placed the red tube of mail on the table in front of him.

“Oh.” You see a slight disappointment wash over Darling as he realizes you were simply here to drop off some mail for him, but what else would you have stopped by for?

When you turn to walk away, the abrupt urge for confrontation seems to bubble to the surface of your indifferent attitude.

You turn around, blurting out the words.

“You didn’t want me helping you?”

The question blindsides Darling, and for a second, he doesn’t know what you mean.

“Excuse me, Ms. L/N?” He questions formally, taken aback.

“Your other secretary. I ran into her on the way up here.”

“Oh. It’s….” He begins.

You look at him, trying to read into his reaction.

He speaks with a sigh, breaking away from his formal tone.

“It’s not personal, Ms. L/N.” He plainly says, fidgeting with the pen he had in hand.

“Then what is it?” You question defensively.

“We should have this conversation another time.” He tries to brush it off. He had never seen you like this, you seemed so sincerely bothered.

“I’m not sure what I did wrong.” You tell him.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Ms. L/N.” Darling reassures, he could sense your unease, and how you spoke your question almost vulnerably.

Darling’s secretary opens the office door, causing the both of you to turn to her.

“Could you leave us alone for a moment?” Doctor Darling requests awkwardly, fiddling with the pen in his hand as he speaks, his secretary quietly nodding and stepping out the office once more.

Darling stands, gesturing for you to sit at one of the chairs at the table.

You sit where he tells you to sit, and he walks around the table, leaning against it.

“Ms. L/N. I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“How I spoke to you the last time you assisted me… It was, …completely, out of line.” He owns up, with a serious but gentle tone, talking with his hands.

“What are you talking about?” You lie, almost not wanting to believe that he was acknowledging it openly, to convince yourself it wasn’t true.

He sighs before he speaks, clearing his throat before speaking. “I was simply very unprofessional with you. So I did not want you assisting me today.” He gives you a polite smile, as to reassure you that you weren’t in trouble.

With a silence lingering in the air, he breaks it. “I’m sorry, Ms. L/N.” Almost a sadness in his eyes, as though he was holding back.

He’s leaning his back against the edge of the table, his hands on the table.

You don’t know what washes over you. Maybe it was the acknowledgement of his own advances, him retracting them.. you reach for his hand on the table, placing your smaller hand on his.

Darling seems to perk up at the unexpected contact, immediately looking to you as if to confirm it’s really you.

His eyes shift from you to your hand on his, unsure of how to react, his ears getting a bit red at the tender touch.

His rational seems to speak for him, “this isn’t a good idea, Y/N.” He calls you by his first name, and it gives you butterflies. Though he doesn’t move his hand away from yours.

But there was a sadness in his eyes. As if he was restraining himself.

“…..Casper, do you want me?”

“Ms. L/N, you shouldn’t be calling me that.” He demands, but his voice is anything but demanding, it’s gloomy; you’re not sure he meant his words.

You trace little shapes with your fingertips on the back of his palm, he nearly melts at the touch; Casper wasn’t used to anyone touching him so tenderly, so lovingly, he’s not sure anyone ever has before.

“This just won’t end well.” He tries to reason halfheartedly, barely convinced by his own words.

“Says who?”

Another tense silence falls upon the room, you decide to ask again what he had not answered.

“Casper, do you want me?”

“No, Y/N, - Ms. L/N.” He quickly corrects himself, avoiding your eyes.

“I want you, Casper.”

His eyes seem to soften at those words, his heart beating out of his chest and beating in his ears, he’s sure you can even hear it.

He sighs, speaking almost shakily, “Y/N… the truth is, …I yearn for you.”

His eyes meet yours, a sense of longing in his that most likely mirrored your own.

“…and when you’re gone, I cannot help but wonder what you’re getting up to.” He chuckles to himself nervously, pushing up his glasses.

“Then when I’m with you… I miss your company long before you leave.” He adds, his voice a tinge shaken up. Confessing what so deeply burned on his conscious.

“You’re on my mind too, Dr. Darling.” You give him a smile.

“Casper.” He corrects you, and it catches you off guard.

You softly chuckle, correcting yourself. “Casper.”

He gives you a dorky smile at the sound of his first name on your tongue.

“Forgive me if I’m rusty, dear, do you mean to say you’re interested in spending time with me outside of being my secretary occasionally?” He asks with a tiny bit of nervousness.

You give Casper a little nod and smile.

You stand, moving to stand in front of him.

“Wasn’t sure you were interested.” Casper sheepishly says, flustered by you standing so close to him. He didn’t need a touch to be intoxicated by you.

You tilt your head up at the tall man, pressing a kiss to his cheek, he follows you with his eyes as you do so, before gathering the courage and turning his head to meet your lips.

You share a sweet but short kiss with Casper, a slight tickle from his mustache.

He awkwardly sighs and chuckles, noticeably flustered, but savoring the taste of you on his lips.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, antsy with a reddish hue creeping up on his face, but obvious in his ears. Casper felt a bit self conscious, having not kissed anyone in quite awhile.

“I’ve forgotten how to do this whole song and dance.” He chuckles again, gesturing around with his hands nervously.

You cut him off with another kiss, reassuring him that he’s doing just fine. His worries seem to melt away with the kiss, he cups your face, returning the kiss with equal fervor. An electric feeling he could get addicted to.

When you pull away, he’s a little breathless, he had been so excited to kiss you he had forgotten to breathe, having to do it manually.

He pushes his glasses up, adjusting his tie, loosening it a tiny bit, it suddenly felt so hot despite his office being kept at a somewhat low temperature. The tie claustrophobic around his collar.

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, trying to regain composure; he had gotten a bit worked up from a mere kiss alone. A touch starved fool.

“Are you free next week, after work, possibly?” He asks with a dorky smile.

“What day?” You ask him curiously, tilting your head to the side slightly. You try to appear calm, but you’re internally jumping for joy that he’s finally speaking the words you never thought he’d say.

“Any.” He answers.

“Thursday?”

You listen to the little click of your heels ring through the hall of the research sector, following the group of new hires that were being given a tour of the sector we’d be working and operating in, this whole building- it was a maze of brutalist architecture.

You sigh, trying your best to intently listen to the tour guide, but the countless other new hires around you seemed to chatter, the fluorescent lights above seemed to shine too bright, and the pencil skirt you wore seemed to peeve you. You try to remind yourself how hard you fought for this opportunity… the hassle of the interviews, the NDA you had to sign… all of it, you felt ungrateful for feeling a bit overwhelmed and intimidated by the setting. Lord knows you needed the experience the job would provide, however small.

You push your doubts aside, following along, though you were in the tail of the group, making it harder to hear or know what was being said or shown.

By the time the tour is over, it was early evening, and though there weren’t many windows in the oldest house, you knew the sun would be setting around this time of day.

You were tired, all the walking and stairs, god the stairs.. and this building… it was a lot to get used to. You walk some more, walking over to one of the benches in the atrium of the research sector. This would be where you’d be working.

The breathe you didn’t know you were holding escapes your lungs as you take a seat, holding a folder full of material to go over before your next day here, along with some other things to sign and info to provide to HR. Today seemed like a lot, you didn’t want it to discourage you, but holy hell, it did.

You look through the folder, looking through the various papers in it. You slip off your heels, leaving them at the foot of the bench, curling your legs up beside you on the bench you sat - it was after hours, you might as well.

You must’ve been in your own little world, you didn’t realize someone had sat next to you, on the other edge of the same bench. You keep your eyes on the words on the paper, oblivious til you catch the sight of someone in your peripheral, to which you flicker your sight to. An older man in a lab coat, looking over to him completely, almost in surprise you hadn’t noticed him sit down.

He meets your gaze, looking up from the crossword he was doing with a gel pen, and he gives you a friendly smile.

“Rough day?” He asks politely, though for a stranger to ask you such it must’ve been so apparent in the way you looked.

“Is it that obvious?” You respond, giving him a smile.

He chuckles at that, smiling, returning his eyes back to the newspaper on his lap.

“Today just… felt discouraging. Just… a lot. That’s all.” You explain to the stranger in the lab coat.

“that’s…. how this job can be sometimes. It’s best you clear your head and attempt it again the next day.”

“And how exactly do I clear my head if I have too much in there?”

he chuckles at your wording.

“It’s in the little things, like er.. doing this crossword puzzle.” he taps the newspaper with the pen in his hand

you look over to him, getting a good look at him, grays in his hair and peppered in his mustache, round glasses adorning his face, crinkles appearing beside his eyes with a smile. handsome.

Before you can say anything, he places the crossword and pen in your hand, getting up and leaving to catch the elevator.

You look down at the piece of newspaper he placed in your hand, studying his handwriting, and how he had finished most of the diagonal answers of the crossword, his handwriting neat in the red inked gel pen.

~

The following months, you become used to the role of your job, as well as getting used to the work load, and the environment. The oldest house was an office and research building like no other.

You were running errands for a certain scientist of the Luck and Probability department. You run down to central research, determined to make copies of whatever the Luck and Probability department had requested. You stand at the copier, patiently waiting. You never minded doing these kinds of mindless errands, it meant you got to walk around a bit.

Once you run those back to the department that had asked for the copies, the lead researcher requests for you to deliver a copy of the report to the Head of Research.

“Where’s that?” You shamelessly ask, you were still getting used to the layout of the research sector.

The research assistant gives you a look, as if surprised by your lack of knowledge on where every office is - explaining the office was located at the very top of the stairs of central research.

You make haste and leave the department, quickly overthinking the interaction you had with that assistant, hoping you didn’t make too big a fool of yourself for asking for directions.

You sigh, climbing over the copious amount of stairs that made up central research, passing by other fellow employees and a few conference rooms.

Once you reach the Head of Research’s office, you knock, even though the door was open. From what you’ve heard from other interns and employees, this Head of Research was a big deal, always spoken highly of, and many of the researchers seemed to want to impress him- give a good impression. You poke your head into the room slightly.

“Come in.” You hear a voice invite you in.

You step in, the comforting sound of the click of your heels on the hard floor of the office, peering over to right side of the office to see the Head of Research.

You’re taken aback as you notice it was the man you had seen on your first day. The one who gave you the crossword. You silently curse yourself as you realize you had complained about your day to the busiest man in the research sector.

He’s wearing a mustard yellow sweater-vest and a deep brown tie, those same circular glasses, his hair neat. You wonder if he recognizes you at all.

“There was uh… this, this report? From Probability.” You explain yourself with a stutter, surprised to realize this was the Head of Research. You hand the report to him, taking it from you with a simple thank you, sharing eye contact for a second longer than you should’ve.

You awkwardly step out of his office, surprised that the Dr. Darling you had heard of was the one who spoke to you on your first day. You had never guessed for the Head of Research to be so…. So. You figured it must’ve been some kooky old guy, not someone so…. Good looking.

~

Dr. Darling seems to steal a glance of you once or twice when he sees you out and about in central research, running errands for just about everyone in Research. You were Research’s favorite errand girl.

He’d occasionally see you standing by the copier, he’d see you bringing mugs of coffee and documents to conference halls, or delivering reports to each department.

He couldn’t help but notice you in the sea that was the research sector, he couldn’t put his finger on why exactly that was. It was as if he was admiring you, noticing the array of pencil skirts and blouses you owned, how they clung to your body, or the way your hair fell down around your face. Or it must’ve been the rhythmic clicking of your heels and the slight sway of your hips that followed the melody of the clicking. What is it about you he found so captivating?

For a man who studied all things paranatural, he seemed to have a harder time figuring out the inner intricacies of his mind that made his eyes wander to a woman for the first time in what must’ve been decades.

He was married to his work, after all. He didn’t look at women.

He’d push his stolen glances aside, doing what he does best, and that was focusing on his work.

But then he’d catch you hand delivering a memo to Director Trench in a meeting, and he’d get a closer look at you, you seemed to be even prettier up close.

It was just a passing fancy - that’s what he would tell himself.

You were his subordinate on a technical level, the amount of glimpses he had stolen of you was enough for an HR violation.

Besides, he was far too old for dating, too old to have a passing fancy like this, too old for you.

His work was far more important anyway.

His critical scientific mind rationalizing it as infatuation at most, or merely slight attraction at minimum… from all the stress he faced.

Casper works quietly in his office, he had requested for an assistant to be sent to help with the paperwork that came from his research. He had his hands full, sitting at one of the tables of his office, trying to make sense of the notes and observations in his notepad.

His train of thought gets disrupted at the sound of heels clicking and one of his office doors being creaked open.

“Dr. Darling?” You call out politely, gingerly holding the door open; making sure he was indeed in his office, he was known to be just about anywhere in the oldest house.

“Come in.” He absentmindedly invites in, unaware of just who had just stepped into his office, he picks up his head to see just who and why.

“I was told you needed an assistant?” You try to explain, closing his office door, making sure it wouldn’t slam shut.

His eyes trail from the door to the hands of the woman closing it gently, then to the woman.. It was you. His heart nearly skips a bit, He’d only spoken to you twice, and he’d never caught your name.

He tells himself to act normal, like his usual self, but the mere presence of a pretty woman was enough to throw him off, he wasn’t usually like this.

He pushes up his circular frames with a finger,

“That’s correct.”

“Oh, what can I help you with Dr. Darling?” You say, standing in front of the table of which he sat in the middle of his office.

“I could use help with the filing of all these.” He explains, gesturing to the copious amounts of documents on the table, his mouth feeling dry with nervousness, trying to not make it so obvious that the sound of his name on your tongue had made his heart flutter.

You think nothing odd of his behavior, beginning to tidy the documents sprawled over the table top in front of him.

He tries to continue working, watching you from his peripheral, tidying up all the documents and notes on the table, occasionally filing away a document into the binders on his office shelf, getting on the ladder for the shelf that was too hard to reach.

“Sweetheart, can you retrieve that first binder up there?” He asks, pointing towards the top shelf, to which you immediately pull out of the shelf, handing the binder to him.

“Thank you.” He says, his eyes lingering on you.

You spend the entire day running errands for the Head of Research, filing away documents, and tidying his office, Casper was unsure if he’d ever seen his office this neat, and he was proud for how he was managing to not look at you at all.

As the end of the work day approached, you notice as most in the research sector leave the Oldest House and head home, but you continue to assist the doctor. You didn’t mind.

Ever since you had put a face to the name, you’ve had a small schoolgirl crush on him. He was just so… eccentric, and completely in his own world - offbeat; multiple PhD diplomas to his name, sort of quirky and awkward, nerdy.

“Ms…?” Casper tries calling you by name, but it occurs to him he never knew it to begin with, he intensely looks at the badge on your uniform,

“Ms. L/N?”

You look down at the badge his eyes were studying, realizing he was reading it.

“Yes, Dr. Darling?”

“You’re not going home? I didn’t intend to keep you so long.” He asks, reading the watch around his wrist for the time.

“It’s alright. I want to be of assistance. I don’t mind being here after hours.” You tell him with a light hearted tone, trying to make a good impression. He was the boss of your usual bosses after all… still your superior and boss.

“Are you positive Ms. L/N?” He asks once more, furrowing his eyebrows, his eyes behind his frames studying you.

“It’s really no trouble!” You try reasoning, and he sighs, begrudgingly allowing your help while you continue to file documents away in their respective places.

“Dr. Darling, do you usually stay after hours?” You ask him curiously.

He chuckles, finding your curiosity endearing.

“I tend to find myself in this position quite often, yes.”

“Can I maybe get you some coffee then, Dr. Darling?”

“Oh, ah.. some coffee would be great, thank you.”

“How do you take your coffee?”

“Black.”

You scurry out of his office, making your way to the cafeteria at the bottom of the research, getting him a cup of coffee before climbing up all the stairs of the research sector.

You place the hot mug down on the table in front of him, the steam visible.

You sit on one of the couches in his office, legs crossed, sure you didn’t have to be here, but part of you wanted to stay here. Perhaps it was curiosity, or maybe your childish urge telling you to stay longer so you can stare at the handsome Doctor.

“How long have you been working here, Ms. L/N?” He asks, sipping his cup of coffee.

“Umm… a couple of months, sir.” You answer awkwardly, your response delayed, almost as if you didn’t believe he would ask about you, beginning to file away some more of the documents on the table, having to get on your tip toes to reach one of the shelves.

All the while Casper can’t help but admire the way you look while doing something so simple, trying to keep his gaze respectful but failing and noticing how your skirt rides up slightly while you try to reach what you need.

Casper works for another hour, into the late night, and when he finally notices how quiet his office is, he looks around for you, just to find you sound asleep on the other side of his office on one of the couches.

It made sense, it was past one. He chuckles to himself, pushing up his glasses, noticing how peacefully you were asleep, still in your work clothes and lab coat, curled up on the black leather couch.

He stands up, trying to be quiet, walking over to you to drape his lab coat over your sleeping form. It wasn’t much, but he knew how chilly his office could be, surely anything would help keep you warm.

The feeling of fabric being placed over the skin of your bare arms wakes you up, slowly opening your eyes, doing a few blinks, realizing you had slept somewhere that isn’t your own bed, you must’ve fallen asleep by accident.

Your eyes flutter and focus on the man kneeling by the couch you had fallen asleep on.

Once the reality of your surroundings kicks in, you frantically sit up, the sleep being scared from your eyes when you realize you fell asleep in your boss’ office by accident.

“Goodness, Dr. Darling. I’m so sorry, sir.” You apologize in a panic, shifting to sit and fix your clothes, trying to rid of any evidence of your sleepiness.

“It’s alright, dear. It’s really late.”

The reassurance isn’t enough to convince you that the situation was okay. “I- I’m sorry. It was an accident.” You apologize profusely.

He pushes his glasses up, still kneeling down at the couch, looking up at you. “It’s alright, really, Ms. L/N.”

Something about his stare on you comforts you, the grays in his hair complimenting the brunette he had left, with such a kindness in his eyes.

You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding, and he gives you a comforting smile.

“You should get home, Ms. L/N.”

“We still got work to do though, I still want to help.” You protest.

“I can take it from here.” He reassures.

“I want to stay, really.”

He stands up with a sigh, sitting down next to you on the leather couch with a scoff and chuckle, “you’re stubborn, Ms. L/N.” His gaze moving from the floor to you.

“I just really care about this job, that’s all.” You sheepishly explain yourself.

“I understand.” He plainly says, a bit quietly.

“Do you usually work this late, Dr Darling?” You ask once more.

He huffs at that. “Just nights I need to. Which seems like most days.” He speaks humorously.

You smile at that. “Do you ever get tired of it?” You ask, teetering on inappropriate questions to ask your boss.

He laughs, “not particularly. It’s… my life’s work. Although, some days it feels like it drags on.”

When some silence lingers in the air, he returns the question.

“Do you ever get tired of it, Ms. L/N?”

You mentally battle whether you should be honest, or say what you think your boss wants to hear.

“Well… no.”

He chuckles, pushing his glasses up once more. “not sure I’m so convinced.”

You slightly giggle at his response and how he could see right through it. You correct yourself, avoiding his gaze, “well, sometimes. It just gets discouraging, but I’m happy to assist however I can. I really don’t mind staying late.”

He smiles, recalling the first time he spoke to you, must’ve been ages ago- you used the same word to describe the job, ‘Discouraging’.

“You’ve been doing a wonderful job, sweetheart, don’t let the pressure and environment discourage you.” He says in such a matter of fact tone. To which you smile, feeling your face heat up slightly at the term of endearment, ‘sweetheart’ sounding so tender in his voice.

“I never gave you this back.” You say, reaching into your lab coat to retrieve the red gel pen from the pocket, handing it to him, to which he takes, examining the pen.

“I’m sure you don’t remember, but you gave it to me forever ago, when I started working here.” You tell him, certain he wouldn’t.

“I remember.”

You look at him, and he gives you a dorky lopsided smile.

He clears his throat, “thank you.” The air in the room a bit awkward, he shifts on the couch.

“I figured I’d meet you again… eventually.” You tell him.

With another awkward silence, you stand up, handing him his lab coat he had draped onto you while you were asleep.

“I should probably get home.”

He stands up after you, taking the lab coat from your extended hand, putting it back on. “That’s right.”

“I’ll finish up filing those last few reports you finished up, before I go.”

He nods; the air still thick and heavy, awkward and tense for no real reason, nothing particularly bad was said, it was polite talk. Maybe the awkwardness was in his head, created from the small crush he had on you, overthinking his every word.

He sits on the stool at the table in the center or his office, trying to make sense of the documents in front of him, but far more concentrated on making sense of the conversation he had just had with you. Why did the air feel so heavy in this office?

He glances over as you file away a few things, looking for the appropriate binder and folder the reports and documents were meant to go in.

He takes note of how cute you look even after you had accidentally slept, it was nearly 3 in the morning and you still looked as pretty as ever. Your badge neatly adorning your lab coat, with your full name in it, he makes sure to remember your first name too, for an innate reason he doesn’t understand.

He sighs a bit, looking at the red pen in his hand, a pen that belonged to him and his office, yet all he could think about was you. That you had kept it for months just to return it back to him.

He stands, walking back to his actual desk to place the red pen in the mug of pens he had on his desk, when he turns around, he finds you knelt down, reading over files in one of the binders, trying to find the right spot for the document in your hand.

He walks over to you, wanting to help you so you could go home quicker, he thought you deserved to rest.

You look up at him from where you were down on the floor in your knees, he gestures for you to give him the paper you were holding.

He scans the document, scrunching his mustache a bit subconsciously, before pointing to the binder next to the one you’re holding. “Goes in this one.” He quietly says, you look up at him as he hands you back the document, and you place it in its respective place, slotting the binder back to where it was meant to go.

He extends his hand out to you, wanting to help you up.

You take his hand, feeling that it’s large and warm, as he brings you back up to your feet.

“Thank you.” You quietly say, nearly under your breath, and you notice this must be the closest you’ve ever stood next to Dr. Darling, noticing the grays in his mustache and facial hair, his hair graying at the temples, the little freckle he had by his lip.

He gives you a small smile, and you smile back, the air thick.

You almost hadn’t realized he didn’t let go of your hand, his eyes seemingly full of affection, though you couldn’t tell if you were reading too much into it.

“I… should get home now.” You say, breaking the awkward silence.

“That’s right.” He says, loosening his grip on your hand, the both of you getting closer to each other, almost subconsciously.

You look up at him, your eyes loving, almost tempting.

You get on your tip toes a tiny bit, and he seems to lean down, just enough so you can catch each others lips.

His lips taste like coffee, you kiss him gently. The kiss chaste and quick, over before you could even realize it started, pulling apart to look at you.

Your eyes flutter open, looking to him, his eyes searching for a reaction in your own.

You give him a gentle smile, placing your hand on his chest, the fabric of the kitschy sweater vest he wore under your fingertips, before you kiss him again. You could feel how tense he was under your hand, but it all seems to melt away when you initiate that second kiss. It was mutual.

Dr. Darling gives you more of a proper kiss this time, lord knows he hadn’t kissed anyone in so long. He had almost forgotten how to.

You smile into the kiss, at how his nose and frames bump into your face, though Dr. Darling feels a bit self conscious about it the second he realizes it.

When you both pull away, he smiles to you sheepishly.

“Ahem.” He awkwardly clears his throat, pushing his glasses up.

“I apologize, Ms L/N. That was far from professional.”

“That’s… alright, Dr. Darling.” You try to reassure him, though the blush on your cheeks was betraying your professional tone, his own face having a pinkish hue.

“Let’s… forget this happened, Ms. L/N.” He blurts, trying to maintain his composure despite his mind in a panic, he couldn’t believe he had done that.

“Of course, Dr. Darling.” You reply absentmindedly, taking his lead on the matter- it felt bitter. You had a raging crush on him. To hear him want to forget it- it was probably for the better, for the sake of your job, but part of you hoped that wasn’t the end of it.

Your heart dropped as his words set in a bit more… it wouldn’t have worked anyway. The entire thing would’ve been a big fat HR violation, a write up for this encounter alone. You didn’t have that much of a crush on him anyway, he was much older than you, and your boss. A workplace entanglement was the last thing you wanted after scoring a job at the FBC.

You both sigh, the tense air replaced by a slight gloom.

“We should call it for the night. We’ve made good progress.” He speaks, stepping away from you, walking slowly to his desk, organizing a few documents into his satchel before closing it.

You watch, almost frozen from the entire interaction. Eventually moving your feet from what felt like cement to gather the few things you had, sighing.

In a matter of minutes, the both of you walk out of his office, the oldest house quiet at this time of night.

The both of you walk next to each other quietly, making way for the elevator, refusing to acknowledge what had happened 10 minutes ago.

He presses for the elevator door, immediately dinging and opening.

He steps into the elevator after you, pressing for the lobby button on the elevator panel, the elevator door closing.

He stands beside you, giving you a dorky smile, almost as if trying to tell you that everything is okay and normal.

You look to him, giving him a smile back, the quietness and claustrophobic nature of the elevator seem to be more apparent than it’s ever been, despite him taking this elevator a million times.

He takes your hand from your side, placing his hand on your jaw, giving you a needy kiss. The second you register it, you kiss him back, that familiar taste of coffee on his lips greeting you once more.

He figured, he might as well make that HR write up worth it.

You kiss into him, his body leaning into yours, his hands eagerly cupping your jaw to deepen the kiss, your back pressing into the wall of the elevator.

His lips part from yours for only a moment, before continuing to kiss you eagerly, your lips on his hungry.

Your hands trail to his chest, feeling at the fabric of his sweater vest. Breathlessly making out with him, a stark contrast from the gentle little kiss he had given you earlier in his office.

His hand falls to the small of your back, the other up to the back of your neck, leaning down to accommodate for the height he had on you. The both of you not stopping to even catch your breath.

The warmth of your body against his seems to warm his heart, not having felt anything like this in what must’ve been years, he was more touch-starved than he cared to admit. All the touch and kiss seemed to make him delirious, dizzying his mind which was normally so precise and critical.

With the ding of the elevator, Dr. Darling gives you a formal nod,

“Ms. L/N.” Polite and respectful.

“Dr. Darling.” You acknowledge.