Ramblings Of A Slutty Asexual Edwardian Poet

Grace had interrupted that train of thought. He knew DuBois was talking about the long, gasping breaths he’d taken before that release. He ended up dismissing them from the lesson early. They either sensed his crankiness or were too horny to insist on staying. He was glad either way. He didn’t need his already-pounding head filled with images of them going at it. 

He made it to the conference room with a minute to spare. He dimmed the lights before taking a seat at the open table. He let his eyelids shut as he waited. 

The door swung open and Grace started, surprised that he’d almost fallen asleep in the–he checked his watch–three minutes it took Lokken to arrive. 

“Sorry I’m late,” she blushed. “We were just trying to iron out the details before I discuss them with you.” 

The tension between the two was becoming more and more palpable. Their interactions had gotten weird lately. It started as animosity, but that was fading into a healthy respect for the other’s scientific expertise, despite the disagreement. He actually started looking forward to their meetings, which he didn’t want to think about further. 

“You’re fine,” he said. “I’m not too busy today.” Though that could always change at a moment’s notice with Stratt running the show. 

Lokken sat beside him and pulled a file folder from her briefcase, laying the pages out on the table. 

He rubbed his eyes as the text on the page swam around his vision. He knew she was speaking to him, but none of the words processed in his head. 

“Dr. Grace?” Her eyebrows furrowed as she gazed at him. 

He snapped his head up from the paper and met her eyes. “Sorry, could you repeat that?” 

“I asked if you had any specific lab equipment in mind for the ship,” she repeated. “These are what the team is considering, with models and specifications included below. They’re state-of-the-art, but I need to know if we’re missing anything.” 

“Yeah, um, let me see.” Grace pulled the papers towards himself to begin scanning the list. “Have you considered…” he pressed a finger against his nose, rubbing at it furiously. The minor prickling in the back of his nose was finally making itself known. He pushed away from the table, the fancy office chair rolling back, and he swiveled away from her before steepling his hands to his nose. “Heh… h-hehSHIEW!” 

“Prosit,” she blessed him in Norwegian. 

“HAH… hih’EHSCHHh!” Grace waited a moment and then let his hands drop to his lap. He could feel the tickle in the back of his nose still bothering him, but it was too faint right now to manifest. He wished he could stifle these, but he had tried earlier in the day and learned his lesson. Whatever was brewing in his nasal passages today would not go quietly. 

“Excuse me,” he said, sniffling lightly. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Her face was etched with concern and she rested a hand on his arm. 

It took all his effort to not jump at the touch.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammered, eager to redirect her attention literally anywhere else. He slid back to the table, and her hand dropped away. He shuffled through the papers. “I see you have a HPLC in this section, but I don’t think it’ll work too well in space.”

“Ah, yes,” Lokken turned her attention back to the sheet, skimming the notes. “This is a nice-to-have, but I think you are right about the gravity requirement. We will be sure to include instruments to perform the process manually.” She pulled a pen from the pocket of her lab coat and clicked it, scribbling down some notes in a scraggly handwriting that Grace couldn’t decipher. 

Not that he was trying very hard. He snapped to the side again, barely raising the back of his hand to his face to shield the sneeze. “EH’schHIEEW!” The next sniffle was liquidy, but he pulled himself together and returned to the papers. Lokken didn’t say anything this time, thankfully. 

As their discussion continued, Grace could feel his voice growing hoarser. Perhaps it was from talking too much, but he couldn’t ignore the very real possibility that he was getting sick. 

The conversation was actually very productive, up until his nose decided to interrupt again. He pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the tickle, but it made no difference. When he couldn’t get his next sentence out due to the distraction, he had to switch gears. “Sorry, I h… have tohh–heh–s-sneeze…” God, that was embarrassing to say out loud. 

Lokken kept her focus on the paper, as if to give him some semblance of privacy. 

His elbow hovered in front of his nose as he turned away again, breath hitching. “Heh.. hh’EMP’CHHhh! h-EH!..oh.. hh-HEH-schhiew!” He panted into the crook of his elbow, grateful that he chose to wear a softer coat today. His eyes were watering now, but he knew that another was coming. “HEH’hdjSHHhh!” 

Grace slumped back in his chair, dizzy in the aftermath. He pushed his glasses back up his face and cleared his throat before speaking again. “Sorry about that.” It came out rougher than he intended. He sat up again, not daring to look at her and instead keeping his head down and focused on the documents.

“Are you feeling okay, Dr. Grace?” She asked again, even though she knew the answer from the first time she asked and he brushed her off.

He could feel her eyes boring into him in assessment. He could also feel the flush in his cheeks reach his ears, probably turning them as red as his nose. There was no getting anything past the scientists on this ship. They were all too observant.

“Just a cold,” he said casually. 

Lokken glanced at her watch. “I have another meeting with the Russians soon. How about we stop now, and you can give me the file back tomorrow with the rest of your notes?” 

Grace suspected she was cutting the meeting short on purpose, but he wasn't about to argue. He didn’t know how much longer he could fight back the urge to sneeze. “Don’t want to piss off the Russians,” he smiled. 

Lokken handed him the folder and gathered her things. Her expression remained stern, but her voice softened enough for him to notice. “Get some rest.”