WHO: Rachel Grey and OPEN
WHERE: At the school, in the library, with a... book.
WHEN: Late Wednesday night. Really late.
WARNINGS: None, but will update if necessary.
SUMMARY: Same song, different verse - Rachel's up late because sleeping... is not her favorite thing these days. So come bother her, say hello, poke her with a stick, you know - the
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That faint sound of deep breathing, the occasional light snore? That's Maggie, who has somehow managed to fit her six foot form underneath one of the library tables, curled up, face planted into a book on mutant genetics.
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Curious, she opened her mind to locate the person that was hidden nearby and once found she crossed the room to check on them. Underneath the table was someone who was either too tired to stay up reading anymore, or who found dry texts on genetics as boring as she did. Either way, she reached under the table to gently shake the woman awake - sleeping under a table was probably not the best way to spend a night.
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She had figured out Rachel was not her former housemate, but her mind hadn't quite kicked completely into gear. "Do you need coffee?"
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Obviously, someone wasn't quite awake yet.
"I'm Rachel, do you know where you are?"
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"Oh. The library." Her cheeks reddened at the thought of being caught here so late. "I'm sorry."
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That was assuming she wasn't a student. You couldn't always tell in a place like this. She offered a hand to help the sleepy woman up.
"Do you have a room here, or need a ride home or anything?"
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"I live at the M.A.C. Mr. Summers offered me a job here." She rubbed her eyes and checked her watch, noticing how late it was. "Are you a student here?" She wondered if she should be returning the offer of getting the girl home.
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Rachel helped the girl get upright and steady.
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She remembered that the young woman had introduced herself, and realized she ought to do the same. "I'm Maggie."
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She offered a hand to shake, "Nice to meet you Maggie. What job did Scott offer you?"
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Maggie took Rachel's hand and shook it briefly. "Librarian." She looked around the books longingly. "I don't have a Library Science degree though..."
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She shrugged, "Sometimes love and life experience trump schooling."
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She pointed toward the fiction section of the library. "The whaling chapters in Moby Dick are nicely soporific." She smiled sympathetically; insomnia was frustrating. "Or if you need something more comforting..." She reached into her jacket, producing a copy of The Little Prince. "Here. This is a nice one. It's not boring, but makes it easy to sleep afterward, I think..."
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