Work Text:
Click. Click... Click...
Click.
There’s only so many times you can press a key on a plastic keyboard before the clicks start sounding exactly the same. Sure, you can change the force with which you press it, the speed, the angle. But after you’ve done that 100 times, that 101 is going to become a painfully familiar sound.
And now that Scott had clicked every individual key on his keyboard 101 times, he was officially out of ideas on what to do.
He probably could do his actual job. That is what he was getting paid to do – categorise and archive the museum’s dwindling collection of relics, jewels and various other objects, write reports to Millie, and daydream about the days he’s actually in the field rather than behind a computer older than him. That is what he would normally be doing during his office days.
But with a hangover as bad as this one, there was absolutely nothing getting done. Not even daydreaming!
The first cup of coffee helped, for about 30 minutes. And then it got below scolding temperature and starting to taste of ash and mistakes. That went down the drain. The second cup was just about starting to help when the headache really kicked in, and then anything other than a glass of water filled with ice cubes was going to send him down the drain.
But now, on his third cup of coffee, after filling and refilling his cup of water enough times that the ice itself became part of the drink, and with his testing of each individual button on the keyboard, maybe he could start doing some work at 1pm. Wonder how his email inbox is looking...
Just when the boredom was truly about to set it, there was a knock at his office door.
“Hello, is this the museum office?” A soft voice called out from the doorway.
A soft unfamiliar voice.
‘Oh no, another courier came to the wrong address. Please don’t let me scare them away with my sick face...’ Scott thought, giving himself a quick glance in the reflection of his monitor. A little pale, sure. Eyes a little puffy? Maybe. Hair – chiselled and combed to perfection. Excellent.
“Yes, it is! How can I help?” He swivelled his chair as charmingly as one can swivel a 90’s office chair, and was met with a strange courier uniform in the form of green overalls and red plaid shirt. Pale face, countless freckles, and wild red hair... Who is the hiring manager at UPS? Did the abbreviation change to ‘united p-farmers service’?
While the woman was previously looking around the office with a hint of curiosity, now that her attention was fully turned to him, there was a soft shift in her expression to warmth and recognition.
“Oh Scott! Didn’t expect to see you here. Feeling better?”
Pause.
Either this was a courier he had met before (presumably while he was ill? Why would he need to feel better) or his brilliant assumption wasn’t as brilliant as he thought it was.
That can’t be it.
“Yes! I am feeling much better from whatever I wasn’t feeling well from, thank you for asking, hardworking employee of my favourite postal service.” Scott stood and leaned against the wall closest to his desk. A couple of seconds passed and marked the longest he had been up on his feet for today and he needed a casual yet cool way of resting his legs.
“Now how may I direct you to where you need to be? Whose parcel are you delivering?”
She pursed her lips in an attempt to hide a smile. It didn’t work.
“Right, right. I’m here to deliver a parcel?” She cleared her throat, once again trying to hide her amusement. It really wasn’t working.
“Why else would you be here? Although I don’t recognise your uniform, are you from one of those new startups that try to take down the big postal companies with staggering new delivery times? If so, I dig the enthusiasm!”
At that, she burst out laughing, practically folding in half holding her stomach.
While the loud sound would normally cause hungover Scott to recoil and grasp at his thumping head, this wasn’t as painfully as he thought it would be. It actually felt nice to speak to another person, and apparently he was extra funny today.
“I’m sorry, couldn’t help it anymore! You’re a funny one, you know.” She said through her laugh. Despite his confusion, Scott squared his shoulders a bit.
“Why thank you. It’s what I’ve been trying to tell everyone but great minds are always ignored.” He practically padded himself on the back.
But wait, what was actually so amusing? He was funny but he wasn’t making a joke. So why was she laughing?
Oh... Right.
“So if you’re not a courier, as I had brilliantly presumed... Who are you?”
Her laugh had already died down but at that her smile faltered a bit. Something in her eyes shifted for a second, a thoughtful look filled with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
And then she was back.
“Don’t remember me? Must’ve really had a lot to drink last night.”
“Wait, how did you know about that? I’m great at hiding my hangovers!” He gestured to his messy desk with the idea of demonstrating there wasn’t a single packet of ibuprofen on it, yet only proved to discredit his statement.
“Mhm... I’m sure it will dawn on you soon enough.” She gave a knowing smile.
Wait, why did that sound familiar? Why did it sound like a pun, a joke he would’ve thought of and praised himself for making? Something doesn’t add up...
In his thinking, eyebrows furrowed together and lips pursed in deep thought, she had made her way to him with an amused expression and extended her hand.
“In the meantime, I found this. Do you know what it is?” Her hand had something in it.
At first, his eyes naturally followed to inspect what was in her hand. But with his thought still unravelling whatever his brain had hidden behind a fog, he couldn’t help but look at her face, inspect her closer. She really did look familiar. Crazy familiar, not like he had seen her in the streets or on television. But like he’d seen her in a dream, a faraway forgotten place in his mind that he didn’t have access to just yet.
And for some reason, it felt right to try and reach for it.
And so he did.
Almost instinctively, like it was the easiest thing in the world, his hands slowly but surely shifted from his side and made their way up to her. Gently placing each palm on her cheeks and nestling his fingers right behind her jaw and under her ears. Her face was warm, much warmer than his hands. It felt like holding a cup of coffee, the fourth one of the day. The one he really didn’t want to let go, the one that might fix his aching head.
Despite the soreness in his bones, it felt right to hunch his shoulders just a little bit and meet her halfway, tilting her head ever so slightly upwards to fully face him. She felt so delicate. The warmth of her skin was spreading up his fingers and seeping down to his bones. It felt nice. It felt so nice to be warm and welcomed. It felt unfamiliar, a new sensation never experienced before, yet so familiar and natural, like this was the only thing left to do.
The furrow from his brow was gone, there was nothing to think about, nothing to ponder on. His features had melted into a calm haze, lazily studying her details with a soft rosy delight.
And for all her grace and patience, cheeks as red as her hair, all she could do was stare up at him with wide eyes and shaky breath. Her lips were tucked in a nervous bite between her teeth, her hands fidgeting with the seams and threads of her trousers. Her gaze in all it’s fright and uncertainty was firmly locked in his.
How soft. How delicate. How warm.
Warm...
“You don’t have a fever anymore.” His voice was low, almost low enough for her to miss it. Almost.
“Wh-what, I-.. N-no, no fever...” Her voice in turn came out as a shaky whisper. Like the walls had ears and eyes and would interrupt. Like she was afraid the slightest sound would shatter the moment.
That made him smile.
“Good.”
Despite the fireplace softness of her skin, despite how naturally his fingers fit right behind her jawline and below her earlobe, despite how delightfully fuzzy his head felt, his hands came down from their spot and crossed at his chest. His position shifted and he returned to his natural lean against the wall.
“How can I help, Dawn?”
She blinked the stars away and her mouth hung slightly open.
“You... You remember me?”
“Of course! How can I forget my knight in shining armour?” Scott grinned. If her cheeks weren’t blazing before, they were now. That only made his smile widen.
“Sorry for confusing you with a parcel courier. We don’t get many visi-... any visitors unless someone’s looking for directions, so I just assumed... Sorry.”
She cleared her throat.
“No, that’s fine! Understandable, if that’s who you were expecting... But the uniform thing was pretty funny.”
He flashed another smile, his best attempt at seeming as dashing as he possible could with his foot in his mouth, and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Yeeeeah... My bad. But hey, you are rocking that uniform, if that helps.”
Even through her blush, she still grinned and crossed her legs in an exaggerated curtsy.
“Glad to proudly represent the postal service.”
Scott gave a laugh, whether out of pity or out of genuine amusement wasn’t entirely clear to Dawn but nonetheless it was welcomed.
“So what have you got for me then?” He gestured for her to handover whatever was in her hand.
“Oh right, I completely forgot!” She handed him the object in her hand, careful not to touch his skin. But her caution only made him smile and he in turn carefully made sure to graze the palm of her hand. He wondered if she felt the same jolt he felt going all the way down to his bones (she did).
His curiosity took over and he turned his attention to the item. There were many things he was expecting, countless items that he wouldn’t have been surprised by. What he wasn’t expecting was an old yellowing brittle bottle of water, dirt and sand covering the edges and details.
“Oh wow, this is... Old.”
Dawn laughed at that.
“I thought so too. I asked around town what to do with it, and after a few people said to just throw it away, someone suggested bringing it to the museum.”
Scott nodded thoughtfully, still turning the bottle left and right.
“Good suggestion. Where did you find it?”
“In the bin.”
“In the b-...” His eyes shot up from the bottle to her. Her fingers were interlocked and fidgeting in front of her. “Did you say in the bin?”
“Yes...”
“What were you doing in the bin?”
She scoffed.
“I just dropped something in by accident and needed it back. I-.. it’s.. Not important! Irrelevant!”
“Aha...” Scott smiled a bit with a shake of his head before turning his attention back to the bin bottle.
“Well thank you for this! It might not seem like much to you or to people in town but one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” He smiled and gently placed the bottle on his desk.
“Good, great! Yeah, that’s good...” She mumbled to herself.
Dawn’s eyes studied his desk for a second, the look in her eyes filled with thought and curiosity as she scanned each belonging.
Scott felt strangely on display. It had been a while before someone new had come into town. He had settled into comfortable pattern with each resident, a familiar routine of idle chitchats and tavern evenings. Of course they were his friends, of course he was grateful for their company and their listening ear to his crazy plans and dreams. But that was all he had expected from them, nothing more and nothing less. Even though he would flirt and throw around dinner date invitations, he wasn’t actually expecting anything to come out of it. He wasn’t actually expecting someone to walk him back from his night of drinking or see him the next morning at his work, deliver an artifact and a shot of caffeine to his brain stronger than any cup of coffee.
And now his entire self, the part he was always so proud to talk about but never actually expected anyone to listen, all on display in front of this stranger he had just met. Her eyes were going through his postcards, the notes he left for himself with scribbles and gibberish, the tiny models of dinosaurs and the gems he’d collected through the years... Even though neither said a word, he felt like this was the most open and honest conversation he’d had with another person in a long time.
This time it was his turn to blush. His hand instinctively felt to casually cover his face, hoping to make it seem like he was just scratching his stubble.
“Well!” Dawn interrupted the comfortable quiet. “I suppose I should let you get back to work.”
“Yeah, suppose you should...” He mumbled. The thought of going back to his emails, all alone with the buzzing fluorescent lights and constant hum of the fan, made him wish he still had another hundred clicks to look forward to.
“I’ll see you—“
“How about I take you out? As a thank you for carrying me all the way home last night and for coming in today.” He hoped he sounded as casual as he wanted to, as casual as the invitation should be. But the last thing it felt like was casual.
She shifted from one foot to the other in the doorway.
“You don’t have to do that. You don’t need to thank me for any of that.” Her smile was warm, casual. Like she did this every weekend (she didn’t).
“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” That sounded a bit less nonchalant than he hoped for. Maybe he had to care less about how indifferent he was being, about coming across as the most cool and collected archaeologist this side of the island, and care a bit more about how his palms were beginning to sweat and his foot wanted to start tapping. Completely nonchalant things.
That seemed to change her expression. Still soft and inviting as ever, but her eyes were darting between his desk and himself.
“Hm. Well, when you put it that way...” She seemed hesitant to agree. Was she trying to appear as collected as he was? He wondered if the tip of her ears were burning as much as his (they were).
“I can take you out to dinner, if that’s your thing. Or coffee, if you prefer that. Hell, I can take you out to my dig site, if that’s more your thing.”
“You would?” Her ears immediately perked up, her gaze now firmly on him.
“I know it sounds like it would be boring but-“
“No, it doesn’t. Would you really?”
Scott blinked.
“Wow, okay. I was joking, I’ve never had anyone agree to that.”
“Oh, I see...” She visibly deflated. Something in Scott felt like a hit to the back of his neck, he immediately had to rectify the situation.
“I mean I could! Of course I could, I could totally take you, I just... I didn’t think you’d agree.” He gave a light laugh.
“Why not?”
That stopped Scott and made him blink at her wordlessly for a few seconds as she just waited.
“I... I don’t know.”
Dawn gave a knowing nod. A nod that said she had also experienced a similar sensation but what that was Scott wasn’t sure yet. Why didn’t he think she’d agree? That seemed like a question he should be digging into a little bit more. Just not yet.
With a breath, she lifted her head and fixed her posture a touch.
“Well, now that I’ve agreed... Would you?”
There was something in her tone, like a hand stretching out to his. Almost like she was dangling a string and watched if he would take it. If this wasn’t Coral island, if this was back in Mew York, he probably wouldn’t have. He probably would’ve said he was busy or there were too many regulations and risk assessments he would have to fill to actually take her and that it was a hollow gesture. He’d say or do whatever it took to feel like he was the one ahead, the one controlling the pace and navigating this motionless waltz between the two of them. He’d say or do whatever it took to feel like he was casual.
But this wasn’t Mew York and this certainly wasn’t casual.
Scott smiled.
“It’s a date.”
~~~
Normally on a dig site, Scott would wear his trusty but torn trousers with his favourite dusty linen shirt and most comfortable shoes. An outfit ready for a day of being on his knees, breathing in sand and digging through dirt, being hunched over for hours at a time while trying his best to remember to take breaks for food and water (lesson learned after fainting on a pile of bones during his university years).
Normally. But this didn’t feel like a normal day at the dig site. Otherwise why would he keep checking to see how he looked in the mirror? Why had he changed shirts three times and tried on several pairs of shoes? Should he wear a tie? Why would he, that doesn’t make any sense... So then why is he going through his collection and seeing which one makes his eyes stand out? None of this makes sense...
Even Charles noticed the commotion and knocked on his door several times, Scott answering with a different outfit everytime, which in turn would cause Charles to give him a thumbs up or a thumbs down (mostly thumbs up, he was being as supportive as possible!).
It wasn’t until ten minutes before he had to leave, that he finally settled on an outfit – the very same outfit he would normally wear. That seemed right – comfortable, natural. Casual.
Why was that word grating on his brain like nails against stone? All this effort and thought, needless worry about the smallest thing with this heavy neon sign of the cursed word hanging right above it all?
If he wasn’t power-walking through the streets, head high with his gaze in the clouds, he would’ve been pounding his forehead against his palms and mumbling profanities at his own expense.
Stupid stupid overthinking over the smallest thing. If only he could get other people’s perception out of his head... Or in this case, just one person.
That was all this was – new person, new first impressions. That was all! He did always get excited when meeting new people, always getting ahead of himself. It was such a whirlwind when he first moved here, new groups, new dynamics, chance to be someone new with no reputation or memories from his past life. All this nervousness and jitters was just the joy of meeting someone new, of someone new meeting him.
That was all. That was all...
But was that all for her? Now that was a question he wasn’t sure how to wonder on, how to even begin to unravel! A question that felt like it was crossing the line from casual to more...
Lucky for his own head, his feet were faster than his thoughts, and he was at the cavern before he knew it.
‘Just for a little bit.’ She had said. ‘Don’t want to keep you from working.’ All polite statements with good intentions. Just for a little bit he’d have to entertain a curious amateur archaeologist, and then he could go back to a quiet mind without any worry if his hair-gel had dried properly.
He was hoping he could get there first, get the lay of the land (so to speak, pun not intended) and come up with a game-plan of how he would wow his crowd.
Hopes crushed and powdered – Dawn was already there. Walking slow circles with her hands behind her back, nose glued to the ground as she aimed her feet at the same prints left in the grass. How long had she been here? Long enough to leave footsteps, that’s for sure... Was he late? Potentially. Let’s not dwell on that...
She was still watching her steps as Scott approached.
“Beat me to it.” He called out.
Dawn simply lifted her gaze, if she was startled she didn’t show it. Wouldn’t be smiling this much if she was startled...
“What can I say? Too eager for my own good.”
“Eager to spend time with yours truly? You flatter me!” Scott teased with a wink. Despite a visible blush, she still giggled.
“Well, here’s some more flattery for you.” Hands behind her back unwinned.
“Oh, another artifact?” He couldn’t help but hide his excitement.
“Sadly no, that’s inside the cavern. But it still came from the ground, so same thing?”
In her hands, she spun around the stem of a daisy, tiny and fragile.
“You picked me a flower?” There was no hiding the confusion in his voice.
She only shrugged.
“Reminded me of you. Thought you should have it.”
Scott started to reply, an echo of her words with a mixture of bewilderment with a touch of amusement at her odd gesture. But he stammered and only ended with a deep sigh, shake of his head, and a smile.
He took the daisy and mirrored how she twirled it.
“Traditionally, the guy is supposed to bring the girl flowers.”
Dawn’s shoulders went up and down again. Like she didn’t have a care in the world. Like this was the most casual gesture in the universe.
“I’m not very traditional. But if you’re itching for tradition, can always leave that for next time.”
His ears perked up.
“Next time?”
“Shall we go in?” She wasn’t waiting for a reply, already stepping inside, and very obviously avoiding his gaze. There was no avoiding the red tips of her ears and the extra speed in her steps.
Scott couldn’t help but grin.
“Now hang on, you can’t just run away from a conversation!”
“I’m just keeping us on track! We can’t be delaying important archaeological research with idle chatter!”
“Idle chatter, is it? That’s what you call a conversation?”
Their voices echoed through the cavern walls, sand crunching at their feet.
Even though it was spring, the weather was particularly warm today with the sun blazing and the little bit of breeze failing to push aside the heat rising on their skin. But inside the cavern it was cool, musky and humid from the stream running down the rocks, from the moss gathered at hidden corners, from the light drips and trickles of water down the ancient rocks.
Their voices shifted from just another buzz of the forest to an all-encompassing sound across the chamber.
“Wow, this place is huge...” Dawn instinctively lowered her voice as soon as the first resonate hit, slowing down to take in the scenery.
The natural light outside was replaced by a damp shade with only a large opening in the ceiling illuminating the space. It was difficult to tell the time from this, it could be 10am or 4pm and it wouldn’t make much of a difference. While this feeling would normally bring about a nostalgic ambience to the situation, it only reminded Dawn of windowless meeting rooms and late-evening calls. She put her hands around herself to stifle the slight shiver.
“You’ve never been here before?” Scott was quick to forget what was just on his mind, instead transfixed by his surprise.
“No, I haven’t really had a chance to explore much outside of town or my farm. Lots to get through, you know?” She gave a short laugh.
Obviously, Scott had been here before. Plenty plenty of times, probably more times than his favourite tavern (coincidentally, the only tavern) with how often he would come in on weekends just to satisfy his own curiosity. As nerdy as he worried it might make him seem, he knew this place like the back of his hand. It felt more welcome to spend time here than his own house (through no fault of Charles’s).
And yet with a brand new person at his side... His first supervisor had described this feeling once on a field trip. Bus full of students, years of experience, yet she was as eager as every single first year. After a few hours, Scott couldn’t help but ask her where did all this enthusiasm come from, she’d been running this field trip for years, so why all the excitement? ‘Fresh eyes provide a fresh perspective. A good mood is contagious. Maybe you’ll understand when you’re in my shoes someday!’ That was her reply.
Lucky for him, here he was – fresh eyes and a fresh perspective right by his arm. For all his years and work, all the previous field trips and visitations, this was a new sensation. Is this what it feels like to be a senior archaeologist? He could get used to this.
Scott couldn’t help but grin at her wondering gaze and curios eyes. His arm wrapped around her and gave her a little squeeze.
“Let’s get you warmed up and in the dirt!... That sounded- you know what I mean.” He laughed.
If she was cold before, she certainly wasn’t. That fever sure is hard to shake...
The next hour or so was spend in delicate instructions, careful demonstrating, and a whole lot of facts on excavations and advice on how to best approach each type of dig site.
“Definitely keep your tools close! It’s so easy to lose them if they’re the same colour as the ground. Trust me, happened to me more times than I want to admit and it is NOT what you want to say to your site coordinator... Especially if this is the third time it’s happened.”
“You don’t have to brush so slowly. It’s gentle but it’s been in the ground for a long time, a little bit of a sweep isn’t going to hurt it... Alright, I take that back, that’s too much sweeping.”
“Remember – as soon as you start to feel like you might faint, you have a few minutes before you actually faint. So use that time to get away from any holes in the ground, and maybe let someone know... Actually definitely let someone know!”
It was so simple to fall into his role, into teachings and guidance. Despite coming in without any sort of plan or idea on what to do with another person at his work, it was extraordinarily easy to take the lead and talk and talk and talk. And all she did was listen, follow his movements and steps, and soak up anytime and everything he blabbed about with such eagerness, it was almost jarring at first. But once he started, it felt difficult to stop – there was more to say, more to do, more to show!
It wasn’t until he actually had someone here that he realised how empty it normally was, how isolating it felt to just be by himself, thoughts bouncing around his head like a ping-pong ball with no one to hit it back. Everything he had previously thought, everything new that popped up could now be shared and be put out into the world, into someone else’s head so he didn’t feel like he was playing by himself.
As much as he loved his work and life in Coral island, there was the big factor that he was the only archaeologist. While that had it’s pluses most of the time, there wasn’t actually anyone he could talk about this stuff with. She wasn’t an archaeologist by any means but it was surprising how quickly she picked it up and was able to ask him exactly what he was hoping she would.
It felt natural, it felt smooth. It felt like everything he had heard other people talk about but never experienced himself.
So many new feelings in the last 48 hours...
While their intentions were to keep the day short, it wasn’t until the light began to creep from a bright gold to a hazy orange that they noticed it was early afternoon.
“I should really get back to the farm. Can’t be neglecting my long list.” Dawn laughed as they made their way to the cavern entrance.
The warm air felt like stepping through a doorway, from the humid chill of the cave to the refreshing heat of the spring day.
Both seemed to pause and take in the comforting change.
“Well, thank you for entertaining me today, Scott. I’m not sure about you but I had a good time.” Dawn was the first to break the silence.
“You can be sure – I had a good time too.” He smiled.
It would’ve been so easy to lie, so simple to drop a line that wouldn’t show the cards he had in his hand. But it felt so difficult to lie when he meant it so much – he really did have a good time. A great time, in fact! He had gotten so used to being by himself that he forgot how pleasant it was not to be alone.
One thing he did want to lie about was the empty feeling that rose at the thought of returning to work without his eager assistant.
“I have been meaning to ask though – why the interest in archaeology?” Scott couldn’t help but ask, crossing his arms at his chest with a tilt of his head. “Not many people would’ve stayed and listened to me talk all day long.”
Dawn gave another shrug. She seemed to do that a lot...
“I’ve met a lot of archaeologists through work. I’ve always heard about dig sites but never actually been to one. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
His back stood straight at her reply.
“Wait, you’ve met a lot of archaeologists? What? From work? Your work before you came here?” The questions seemed to tumble one after another. That seemed to be amusing to Dawn who gave a light laugh.
“Not many archaeologists at the farm. Yes, from my previous work...”
“What did you do before you came here?”
It was an innocent enough question. But one from which she averted her gaze, her shoulders slumping just a little bit.
“That’s a long story... One for another time.”
Despite the drop in her mood, Scott gave her a nudge and smiled.
“One for next time?”
Her eyes met his and matched his smile.
“Next time.”
Both stood for a second, side by side.
Was there an expectation in the air now? Was he making it up, looking for it perhaps? Or was it actually there between them, this breath of anticipation on what to say or do next? Probably just his imagination – she seemed to soft-hearted for that, too genuine with her intentions and her thoughts to leave something unspoken. It was easy to read her face, there was no hiding exactly what was on her mind. This pause must be from him, unreciprocated and one-sided. Must be.
“Make sure to stop by and say hi every once in a while, Dawn. Don’t want you to forget about me.” Scott grinned with the best gleaming smile he could muster. Despite his intention of making her cheeks red, she only gave a knowing smile and nodded.
“You don’t have to worry about that. But I’ll take you up on that offer.”
There it was again, that pause he could swear he was imagining. But this time it felt more like she was leaving it there on purpose, extending the silence, letting the breath hang in the air. Why would she say that? Is this what being suffocated felt like? This feels like an unfair move, like instead of playing chess she flipped the board and took the pieces for herself. Very unfair...
“See you around, Scott.” She spoke first. His chest began to rise and fall again.
“See you, Dawn.”
He tried not to watch her walk away. Few steps back, few turns of his head, but as much as he tried to fully turn his attention back to his work, he couldn’t help but look up every once in a while. And the worst part was she was as well.
The part he wanted to admit the least? He felt a smile creep up his cheeks every time she did.
Shit.