Chapter Text
Vanessa was late. Hermann reminded himself that Vanessa was, somehow, his friend and had volunteered her time despite not being engineering faculty. He should not begrudge her running late on a Sunday morning, especially after a date the night prior, especially not at the end of the autumn semester.
However, there were many things Hermann knew he should not do but found himself doing anyway.
Case in point, affixing the false walls for the train carriage to the break room windows.
The width of each panel was well beyond his arm span, so he was forced to prop one of the benches (borrowed from the downstairs lobby and fitted with a plywood backrest to resemble a passenger train’s seat) against one side as he maneuvered the other side to line up with the magnetic clips (which he had spent the better part of a Friday afternoon measuring and designing in AutoCAD) secured to the window jambs.
The first two clips connected without incident, but the bottom two were slightly misaligned. Unable to crouch and see just how far he was off, he attempted to discern by feel the last two clips. When wiggling the board did nothing, Hermann huffed and pointedly ignored how he was forced to shift his weight to his bad leg. He pulled the board from the two clips to start over, when he heard a dull, wooden scrape across the linoleum floor and saw the faux-train seat slide away.
Hermann reached out, blindly, and stretched his leg out in the process. A searing lance burst from his knee and travel up his thigh. He cursed and pivoted away, his fingers pathetically scrabbling at the edge of the wall but it was too late. The other side went down first, tilting the other down in it’s wake. In a matter of seconds which felt like centuries to Hermann, the wall had fallen flat on the floor, missing his foot by a few centimeters.
“Damn!” Hermann hissed, the pain in his leg dissipating much too slowly for his liking. He reached behind him for his cane, but it had fallen from it’s perch against the counter, forcing Hermann to lean against the same kitchenette counter instead.
“Damn,” Hermann repeated, with feeling. It felt good. Cathartic in the petty, insubstantial way honking the horn in a car at a too-slow motorist did.
Of course, that is when Vanessa decided to show up.
“Hermann,” she said, concerned. She rushed to his side, easily dodging the disaster in front of him with a cursory glance. Hermann’s face grew flush and he looked down and away from her at his left hand gripping the lip of the counter.
“Are you alright?” Vanessa asked, bending down and grabbing his cane before fluidly standing back up.
“I’m fine,” he said, looking back only as far as his cane and snatching it out of her hand before she could extend it to him.
Vanessa surveyed the mess in front of him now, the clips that snapped as the wall went down. With his luck the board would be cracked down the front, destroying Vanessa’s design.
“What happened?” Vanessa asked, though it was obvious.
“Nothing,” Hermann said.
“Did you try to put up the wall yourself?”
“What do you think?” Hermann muttered.
Vanessa was unimpressed. “You could have waited, you should have waited,” Vanessa said. “You could have hurt.”
“I’m not a child,” Hermann snapped, bitter and spoiling for a fight, “It’s not as if I had anyone else to help.”
For a moment, Vanessa said nothing. She looked at him coolly, before stepping back and crossing her arms. Hermann opened his mouth, as if he could suck the words back in and undo them.
“Fine, I was running late,” Vanessa said. “I’m running late on a Saturday morning after a lovely date to come into work—”
“I know.”
“And help you put up decorations for a party the way I have for years now,” Vanessa gestured at the mess. “How is this my fault exactly?”
Hermann swallowed. He looked her in her eyes and tried to not feel like a child.
“It’s not,” Hermann said. Knowing that was not nearly enough, he added “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”
As much as Vanessa had little patience for rudeness, she didn’t like a fight lasting longer than it had to. He knew he should also acknowledge that she was right, that he shouldn’t have attempted putting up something that required two people, bad knee or not, but Vanessa sighed and released her arms. She must have surmised he knew that as well, at least by learning it the hard way.
She stepped back to the wall and bent to lift the false wall. Hermann’s shoulders dropped in relief when it didn’t snap in two. After a moment she gingerly put it back down.
“The front is fine,” Vanessa said, she pointed at the clips. “Those could be a problem.”
Hermann nodded. Suddenly exhausted, he leaned back against the counter and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “I have extras printed in my office.”
Vanessa sighed. “I’m happy to do it, you know that, but it’s supposed to be fun. To bring people together and be a little magical and creative.” She looked at him. “I’m concerned it’s not that for you anymore.”
Hermann looked down, rapped his fingers over the head of his cane.
“What do you think it is for me now, then?” Hermann asked, more resigned than he intended, but no less true. He knew the answer, of course, but admitting previous knowledge made it worse.
Vanessa faltered for a moment, he wondered out of acute regret or his unusual question. Either way, she spoke after a moment. “Avoidance.”
Despite himself Hermann smiled wryly. “I suppose it’s obvious. The real question is of what exactly.”
“Hermann, I…” Vanessa started, but, rarely, her words failed her. He stood up from the counter and walked toward her.
“I know,” Hermann said, because he did. He surveyed the broken clips.
“I’ll go get the replacements,” he said, “then you may regale me about your paramour that made you late this morning.”
Vanessa smiled, and graciously said nothing else as he left. He couldn’t look her in the eye.