Shay - Delphine AU | Part 16* (Rough Draft)
Could Shay and Delphine have been a thing in a different universe?
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*
Day two of Delphine's reassignment began with the somewhat embarrassing realization that she hadn't secured Cosima's contact information before the unexpected interruption of Rachel Duncan and that Cosima hadn't provided it in her forms. Delphine informed front desk security to contact her upon Cosima's arrival and spent an entire morning's wait discovering the mop and bucket in the laboratory in the old wing was really quite possibly meant for their use.
By late morning, it was a bit dismaying how much remained in want of clearing or attention with a rag.
Abandoning the endeavor, Delphine unpacked her laptop on a clean table surface and tested the lab's connectivity. The icon displayed a weak signal. She checked a few emails, made a few inquiries, and determined she was not only going to be supervisor to DYAD's newest human resource, but administrator of the old wing. The sector wasn't on anyone's radar as active. She arranged for cleaning services to pay a visit and I.T. to bring the laboratory into the 21st century. Eyeing the ticking time, she scheduled an MRI and other scans and tests with the appropriate labs that would bring Cosima's records up to complete and updated.
The jingle of her ring tone disturbed a round of online window shopping.
"Hello, Dr. Cormier. This is front desk security. Ms. Niehaus just arrived. She's on her way over."
A short wait later the electronic lock pad announced Cosima's arrival. She sauntered inside and raised her eyebrows.
"Good morning," Delphine greeted her. "Come join me."
"This place is slightly cleaner than it was yesterday, right?" Cosima asked as she unloaded her bag onto the end of the table. "Did the cleaning staff have a go at it, then give this place up as hopeless?" She eyed Delphine. "Or was it you?"
"It'll be taken care of," Delphine assured her. She waved Cosima over. "Come help me brainstorm ideas for equipment the lab will need."
"You get straight to business, Dr. Cormier," Cosima observed warily.
"I didn't know when you would arrive," Delphine said casually. "My day started a little earlier."
"Yeah, about that," Cosima said, bowing her head, looking a little sheepish. "I'm, uh, always kinda late, so, uh, always kinda sorry."
"I'm usually here by nine, nine-thirty," Delphine replied as a means of not offering commentary.
"Yeah," drawled Cosima as she dragged a chair over, "I'm more of a night owl. Nine, nine-thirty sounds like the time at night I start to get going."
Well. If those were the lab hours Cosima expected to pull, they were at least comparable to the lengths Delphine had given to Aldous.
"In that case, it would be a good idea to have a way to contact you so we can coordinate," suggested Delphine.
"Coordinate. Right," Cosima said. "I'm getting a company email address, yeah?"
"Your phone number, please," Delphine demanded directly.
"My phone number. You can just ask me out to dinner in person, Dr. Cormier."
"We can get dinner, if we can manage to complete some work," Delphine replied offhandedly. She realized belatedly by the intensity of Cosima's scrutiny that the remark was a test of some sort.
"Like a treat," Cosima said with exaggerated enunciation. "Good dog, here's your reward."
Delphine chose silence as her best option and held her phone at the ready. Cosima recited a string of numbers, Delphine saved it and hit call. From the direction of Cosima's bag sounded a muffled ringtone.
"And now you have my number if you need to contact me," Delphine told her.
"Any restrictions?" Cosima asked, angling back in her chair. "Can I call you if I, like, run out of milk or something?"
"You can," Delphine confirmed breezily. "That is, you now have the ability to. But I can't guarantee I'll do anything about your milk supply."
"What if I need supervision buying milk?"
"I can look into protective services if you need constant accompaniment," Delphine said.
"You mean you're not protective services?" Cosima wondered. "I'm a little disappointed."
"Well, here's something that hopefully won't disappoint: Dr. Leekie has more or less given you carte blanche to furnish the laboratory. What equipment would you like in here?"
"I guess it depends what we need. You think any of this junk can be salvaged?" Cosima wondered skeptically. She indicated the fume hood with her chin. "What are the chances the extractor fan in that thing works?"
Delphine checked a tic of a grin. "If it doesn't, we'll get it fixed." She slid her open notebook toward Cosima. "I have a few suggestions."
"That's more than a few," Cosima remarked as she leaned forward to look. She reviewed the list, debated a few selections, suggested one or two brands, and rounded out the necessaries.
"Anything else?" Delphine asked as she jotted down the last item.
"Chill zone, probably over there," Cosima said, waving in the direction of the corner opposite the door.
"Chill zone?" Delphine asked with a smile.
"Yeah, like a couch, snack center, tea station, a nice Persian rug--"
"A Persian rug," repeated Delphine.
Cosima raised an eyebrow. "Sky's the limit, right?"
Delphine nodded, smile lingering. "Okay. I'll look into it."
She made a point to add "Persian rug" to the list. The tardiness Delphine could do without, but Cosima wasn't a laggard. Delphine had somewhat expected determining what equipment to order to be like pulling teeth, but Cosima proved a pleasant surprise in the opposite direction. Delphine might have even called it efficient. Tucking the pen between the pages, Delphine closed the notebook. "It will take time to fulfill all these requests. Which gives us time to fit in a physical."
Cosima considered her for a length of time. "Did you plan all this in the morning or is this the standard welcome for all self-aware clones?"
"It's very important that we monitor your health," Delphine said.
Cosima's jaw stiffened and flexed. "Right. That's why you guys conducted all those clandestine nighttime examinations." Her eyes narrowed. "Were you a part of that operation?"
Delphine shook her head. "No."
"But you know what I'm talking about," Cosima remarked.
They sat mulishly studying one another across the table. Cosima's ploy was deftly sprung and the more they traded nuggets of veiled information, the more Delphine understood Jennifer hadn't prepared her for this game and its wages. One of her exes had gotten caught up in a poker craze after seeing a movie with one of his friends. He delved into a variant he called Texas Hold'em, but hosted games that featured other styles of play. She felt like she and Cosima were engaged in one of those, where players were dealt a series of cards showing face up and others face down and she and Cosima were jockeying to see the other's hidden hand.
As the silence stretched, Cosima's respiration grew discernibly heavier. A niggle of doubt took up residence in Delphine's gut.
"All this urgency," Cosima said at last, "is it because of Katja?"
Delphine hesitated.
Cosima studied Delphine intently. "You're worried that maybe all of us are--" She waved a hand. "--predisposed?"
"You know as well as I do that it's a possibility," Delphine said softly.
"Well," Cosima said, turning away to gaze toward the windows, "I'll spare you the suspense and tell you what the tests will say: I'm sick."
*
There was perhaps a minute in which Delphine had no cognizance of whether she or Cosima said anything.
*
Words pierced the muted bubble:
"You okay, Doctor? You're looking a little pale."
Their meaning and the scrutiny Cosima was exercising on her face took time to arrange into sense. Delphine breathed in deeply, then out slowly, inhaled and exhaled again as perception rearranged itself. "What makes you think you are sick?"
"The coughing up blood bit was a pretty good giveaway." Cosima said it flatly but a tremble shuddered through her lower lip and a bright sheen lay over her eyes.
"How long have you known?" Delphine asked softly. "When did the symptoms start?"
Cosima blinked slowly. "A few days ago."
Delphine absorbed the revelation.
"What?" Cosima demanded.
Delphine met Cosima's eyes. "Is that why you came to the DYAD?"
Cosima's lips pressed together. She seemed to conduct a debate with herself. She glanced away, then back. "If what happened to Katja is happening to me, if this is something that's affecting us because we're clones, then I need to be in the place that knows us inside and out." Cosima leaned forward. "And that's here, with you guys. Right?"
Delphine sucked in her lips. "Then let's begin immediately. Your medical records are not up-to-date. Can we rectify that?"
Brown eyes searched Delphine's intently.
"Please?" entreated Delphine.
Cosima breathed out slowly. She nodded.
*
The blood tests, the scans, and the tissues that Cosima speckled with blood through heaving coughs over the next few days confirmed what Cosima knew: She was sick. The symptoms were what Cosima had heard affected Katja.
It looked the same as what wrought Jennifer bedridden.
With evidence amassed in hand, Delphine went to Aldous. Delphine skipped the preamble and set the folder before Aldous. "Cosima is showing the same symptoms as the other two."
Aldous's features slackened. For the first time Delphine watched the implications cascade through his comprehension. With the number of cases beginning to cluster within the given frame of time, he was wondering, like Delphine, if they were looking at an epidemic to Project LEDA.
Delphine sucked at her lips. "I might as well have remained with Jennifer."
Aldous's expression closed. Delphine peered at him closely, disquiet rising beneath her skin.
"What is it?" she asked.
"There's been a turn in Jennifer's case," Aldous intoned in a low voice. "Last night. She's slipped into a coma."
They stared at each other. Pressure gathered and grew and expanded within Delphine's skull.
"What will be done for Jennifer moving forward?"
Aldous folded his hands upon the desk. "In your professional opinion, what do you think can be done, Dr. Cormier?"
Delphine gazed at him in bullish silence. She didn't have an answer. She hadn't had an answer for months. The thought occurred to Delphine that they could make Jennifer's passing easy. But DYAD wouldn't want that. They'd want nature to run its course. To observe. To dissect.
As a case study.
They weren't wrong. The information would be valuable moving forward.
It was Delphine who'd grown reluctant.
"I think Cosima should be informed about Jennifer," Delphine proposed. "She already knows there was another subject that was ill--Katja. This is why she came here. She began to exhibit symptoms and she thought we might have the answers."
"Do we?" Aldous challenged her.
"We better find them," Delphine said, voice tight, "for her sake. This is the biology she came to study."
"Or perhaps just the foremost part," Aldous pointed out.
"In this our goals align with hers," Delphine retorted. "She already knows other clones exist. If we volunteer information to her freely and unprompted, it would be a sign that we trust her and want to work with her, openly." Delphine crossed her arms. "She came to us paranoid, but that doesn't mean she can't be won over."
Aldous hitched an eyebrow at her. "Are you proposing you can win her over?"
"I'm only saying it's a possibility. Possibilities are what drew me to the DYAD."
Aldous regarded her shrewdly. "Tread carefully, Delphine. Mind where your sympathies lie."
"Cosima's already far more invested than we knew. This isn't just her biology; it's her life."
"And I won't bar you from sharing what we've learned from Jennifer's case, but knowing about Jennifer specifically would contribute how?"
"It will give her a sense of urgency," Delphine said softly.
Aldous's forehead wrinkled with the ascent of his eyebrows. "Or send her packing."
"Where would she go?" Delphine wondered.
Aldous cocked his head. "That might be interesting to find out as well."
Delphine hesitated. "So I have your permission?"
Aldous shook his head. "No. You don't."
*
The brush veered slowly from its preliminarily straight trajectory to smear red all over Delphine's skin. Delphine chuckled. "You are . . . not very good at this."
"Oh, and you are?" Shay fired back as she swiped and dabbed at her mistake with her thumb. She managed to smear as much as she cleaned away.
"I wouldn't know. I leave it to the professionals," Delphine said frankly.
Shay moved onto the next nail, smiling to herself. "Don't worry, I won't make you walk out of here looking like a kindergartner went all arts and crafts on you. I just wanted to see what this color would look like on you."
"How does it look?" Delphine asked.
The fire engine red popped against Delphine's complexion.
"Fantastic," Shay declared flatly. "No surprise."
Delphine laughed. Shay lightly tapped the back of her hand. "Sit still."
Delphine obeyed. "I don't recall seeing you wear this color before."
"Because I don't wear it. It was an impulse buy. I was just in one of those moods when I was shopping that day, you know when you think you want a change. I thought I would wear it, but I like darker reds better."
"As do I," agreed Delphine. "This is not a color I would choose for myself."
"Yeah? Why not? You can pull it off."
"I think there is an English word. It's . . . garish?"
The laugh that overtook Shay threatened to spill polish. Wrestling herself under control, Shay said, "That's definitely a word that exists in the English language. Yes, this color is bright. Okay, sit still and let that dry a little bit before I put on a second coat."
"Another one?" Delphine protested. "On only one finger?"
"I'm only going to do one finger--just so we can see the true color. I'll take it off afterward, I promise. Weren't you the one who said you wanted to do something that required minimal thinking?"
"I did," admitted Delphine, "though I was thinking more along the lines of a movie. But you don't have a television and you get shy when I invite you to my apartment."
"Shy" was a liberal word choice. Reluctant was closer to the truth. Delphine had extended a few couched invitations. Shay had yet to take her up on one. It helped that Delphine's invitations tended to be spontaneous rather than proposals in the future, which allowed for the appearance of short notice to justify compromises of closer, more neutral locations to meet.
Delphine didn't press. She hadn't even made the offer tonight. But she'd noticed Shay's noncommittal responses, clearly. What she deduced from the observation or to what she attributed the avoidance Shay had no idea. It was difficult for Shay to pinpoint the source of her uneasiness. It wasn't Delphine. Not exactly. Shay was comfortable with Delphine's presence in her studio. It was an allocation and adjustment to which Shay had consciously submitted. That they met in her own home afforded a sense of control, that it was her space, her rules, on her terms.
It might be different in Delphine's domain.
"Yeah?" Shay asked. She blew lightly on Delphine's nail. Delphine wiggled her fingers. "What were you in the mood to watch?"
"You could have chosen," Delphine said, "as my guest."
Shay grinned to herself. "You'd watch a romcom with me?"
"That . . . would indeed require minimal thinking," Delphine afforded.
Shay chuckled. "Do you really find romcoms that uninteresting or is that a front you put on?"
Delphine raised her eyebrows. "You think I put on fronts?"
"Sometimes," Shay said softly, unscrewing the brush top of the bottle of polish, "I think you protest more passionately than you actually feel."
"Why would I do that?" Delphine asked, hand submitted limply to Shay's ministrations.
"I don't know," Shay allowed, sweeping a fresh layer atop Delphine's index finger, bringing out the true candy red of the color. "To see what kind of reaction you'll get?"
"From you?" Delphine wondered.
"I guess. I've only ever seen you talk to me."
Delphine lifted her index finger when Shay finished applying the second coat and sucked in her breath. "Garish."
"It doesn't look bad," Shay assured her, "but you'd have to be comfortable wearing it."
"I'm curious to see it on you," Delphine said.
Shay shook her head. "It appears just as bright on me as it does on you."
"But maybe you would wear it better," Delphine pressed, a warble of something strange in her tone. Shay frowned in confusion, then exasperation.
"Are you trying to push the point because I made that comment?"
Delphine smiled.
"Okay, for real," Shay said, twisting the cap unnecessarily to screw it closed tight, "do you actually do that to get under my skin?"
"I don't know," Delphine said. "That is, I don't know if I do it consciously." She gave her hand a little shake. "At least, not when I'm not purposefully teasing you."
Shay flushed. It took a second to find her voice. "I didn't expect you to admit to it."
"Why?" Delphine asked, tilting her head at a slight angle. "We both know it's true."
"Yeah, but normally," Shay said, avoiding Delphine's eyes, "people deflect a truth like that."
"Like you deflect my invitations to be a guest in my home?"
Shay raised her eyes cautiously. So. They were going to get into it, after all.
Delphine smiled, not coyly or teasingly, but feebly, tired in the way she had seemed weary for what felt like so long lately. "I can offer you dinner. And a television."
Shay sat quiet.
Delphine blinked almost sleepily. "Are you afraid of something?" Her lips twitched at the corners. "My cooking? If the prospect makes you nervous, I don't have to cook. I can manage takeout very well. Is it the television? I'm sure we can agree on something to watch."
Shay opened her mouth to lie--I don't want to be a burden--and simply inhaled instead. She held the breath and let it out in a little sigh. "I . . ." Shay glanced away. "I can't give you a real answer because I don't know the answer either."
Shay pushed herself to her feet to fetch the nail polish remover and cotton. Delphine watched her without a peep and offered her hand without prompting when Shay returned.
"I'm sorry," Delphine murmured as Shay concentrated on the stubborn red running all over the cotton fibers and Delphine's skin. "I--I'm a little tired today."
Shay stared unseeingly at Delphine's hand. Then she bit back a laugh. She raised her eyes to find Delphine's. "You mean you've been thinking about this, but you've been keeping it to yourself, and the only reason you asked now is because you're tired?"
Delphine's shoulders twitched in a shrug. "I suppose I thought you would accept an invitation eventually. It's not me, I don't think, otherwise you wouldn't allow me here in your home. Unless there's something you aren't telling me."
"You're welcome here," Shay assured her.
"And you're welcome in my home."
"I know," Shay said. "I know. Sometimes it's just--the timing is weird. You work longer hours than I do and you've been so busy--and--" Shay shook her head. "Will it sound weird if I say that I don't know how I'll feel in your home?" Delphine looked at her in question. "You've always . . . come to me. To my office. To my place. It's . . ." Shay settled on a slanted truth. "Kind of nice."
Delphine's eyes narrowed.
"What?" Shay asked.
"I think I understand," Delphine said.
Surprise jolted through Shay. "You do?"
"Maybe," Delphine allowed more cautiously. "The invitation is open, when you're ready."
"So I can show up at your door at two a.m.?" Shay teased.
"If there's something keeping you up until two a.m. that you need to come to my door, then, yes, of course, come over."
"Really?" Shay asked, wearing a smile of uncertain laughter.
Delphine nodded. "Yes. I'd welcome the opportunity to help you. For once."
Shay's heart skipped a pitter for a patter. She shook her head as she recovered. "I'm not sure you have the time to spare for any more troubles."
"I'd make time," Delphine replied immediately, then seemed to catch herself and sighed. "Though maybe you're right."
Shay relaxed into the familiar smile of sympathy. "At least today's Friday."
Delphine shook her head. "I plan to work tomorrow. I have a number of things I need to prepare."
"Is that why you wanted to veg out tonight?"
"Veg out?" Delphine repeated with perplexity.
"Do minimal thinking."
Delphine nodded. "It may be that I don't want to think about what I need to do."
Her friend's tired visage spurred an impulse. "Want a massage?"
"Excuse me?" Delphine asked.
Shay teased Delphine about returning to her massage table, even meant it in an official capacity, but she'd never made a casual offer of the genuine service. A danger for a precedent, perhaps, or maybe too much blurring of lines.
But they'd fuzzied a few tonight already, so what would another hurt.
"One-time offer," Shay said, to save some veneer of casualness. "On the house. As a bonus, you'll find out why I bought the couch given its construction."
Delphine's brow crinkled. "You bought that safety hazard deliberately because it's a safety hazard?"
Shay rolled her eyes. "It's not a safety hazard." She tapped the back of Delphine's hand. "Come on. I'm going to show you to appreciate it."
//
Next
Prev: 1-5 (edited), 6-8, 9*, 10*, 11*, 12*, 13*, 14*, 15*, 16*
Day two of Delphine's reassignment began with the somewhat embarrassing realization that she hadn't secured Cosima's contact information before the unexpected interruption of Rachel Duncan and that Cosima hadn't provided it in her forms. Delphine informed front desk security to contact her upon Cosima's arrival and spent an entire morning's wait discovering the mop and bucket in the laboratory in the old wing was really quite possibly meant for their use.
By late morning, it was a bit dismaying how much remained in want of clearing or attention with a rag.
Abandoning the endeavor, Delphine unpacked her laptop on a clean table surface and tested the lab's connectivity. The icon displayed a weak signal. She checked a few emails, made a few inquiries, and determined she was not only going to be supervisor to DYAD's newest human resource, but administrator of the old wing. The sector wasn't on anyone's radar as active. She arranged for cleaning services to pay a visit and I.T. to bring the laboratory into the 21st century. Eyeing the ticking time, she scheduled an MRI and other scans and tests with the appropriate labs that would bring Cosima's records up to complete and updated.
The jingle of her ring tone disturbed a round of online window shopping.
"Hello, Dr. Cormier. This is front desk security. Ms. Niehaus just arrived. She's on her way over."
A short wait later the electronic lock pad announced Cosima's arrival. She sauntered inside and raised her eyebrows.
"Good morning," Delphine greeted her. "Come join me."
"This place is slightly cleaner than it was yesterday, right?" Cosima asked as she unloaded her bag onto the end of the table. "Did the cleaning staff have a go at it, then give this place up as hopeless?" She eyed Delphine. "Or was it you?"
"It'll be taken care of," Delphine assured her. She waved Cosima over. "Come help me brainstorm ideas for equipment the lab will need."
"You get straight to business, Dr. Cormier," Cosima observed warily.
"I didn't know when you would arrive," Delphine said casually. "My day started a little earlier."
"Yeah, about that," Cosima said, bowing her head, looking a little sheepish. "I'm, uh, always kinda late, so, uh, always kinda sorry."
"I'm usually here by nine, nine-thirty," Delphine replied as a means of not offering commentary.
"Yeah," drawled Cosima as she dragged a chair over, "I'm more of a night owl. Nine, nine-thirty sounds like the time at night I start to get going."
Well. If those were the lab hours Cosima expected to pull, they were at least comparable to the lengths Delphine had given to Aldous.
"In that case, it would be a good idea to have a way to contact you so we can coordinate," suggested Delphine.
"Coordinate. Right," Cosima said. "I'm getting a company email address, yeah?"
"Your phone number, please," Delphine demanded directly.
"My phone number. You can just ask me out to dinner in person, Dr. Cormier."
"We can get dinner, if we can manage to complete some work," Delphine replied offhandedly. She realized belatedly by the intensity of Cosima's scrutiny that the remark was a test of some sort.
"Like a treat," Cosima said with exaggerated enunciation. "Good dog, here's your reward."
Delphine chose silence as her best option and held her phone at the ready. Cosima recited a string of numbers, Delphine saved it and hit call. From the direction of Cosima's bag sounded a muffled ringtone.
"And now you have my number if you need to contact me," Delphine told her.
"Any restrictions?" Cosima asked, angling back in her chair. "Can I call you if I, like, run out of milk or something?"
"You can," Delphine confirmed breezily. "That is, you now have the ability to. But I can't guarantee I'll do anything about your milk supply."
"What if I need supervision buying milk?"
"I can look into protective services if you need constant accompaniment," Delphine said.
"You mean you're not protective services?" Cosima wondered. "I'm a little disappointed."
"Well, here's something that hopefully won't disappoint: Dr. Leekie has more or less given you carte blanche to furnish the laboratory. What equipment would you like in here?"
"I guess it depends what we need. You think any of this junk can be salvaged?" Cosima wondered skeptically. She indicated the fume hood with her chin. "What are the chances the extractor fan in that thing works?"
Delphine checked a tic of a grin. "If it doesn't, we'll get it fixed." She slid her open notebook toward Cosima. "I have a few suggestions."
"That's more than a few," Cosima remarked as she leaned forward to look. She reviewed the list, debated a few selections, suggested one or two brands, and rounded out the necessaries.
"Anything else?" Delphine asked as she jotted down the last item.
"Chill zone, probably over there," Cosima said, waving in the direction of the corner opposite the door.
"Chill zone?" Delphine asked with a smile.
"Yeah, like a couch, snack center, tea station, a nice Persian rug--"
"A Persian rug," repeated Delphine.
Cosima raised an eyebrow. "Sky's the limit, right?"
Delphine nodded, smile lingering. "Okay. I'll look into it."
She made a point to add "Persian rug" to the list. The tardiness Delphine could do without, but Cosima wasn't a laggard. Delphine had somewhat expected determining what equipment to order to be like pulling teeth, but Cosima proved a pleasant surprise in the opposite direction. Delphine might have even called it efficient. Tucking the pen between the pages, Delphine closed the notebook. "It will take time to fulfill all these requests. Which gives us time to fit in a physical."
Cosima considered her for a length of time. "Did you plan all this in the morning or is this the standard welcome for all self-aware clones?"
"It's very important that we monitor your health," Delphine said.
Cosima's jaw stiffened and flexed. "Right. That's why you guys conducted all those clandestine nighttime examinations." Her eyes narrowed. "Were you a part of that operation?"
Delphine shook her head. "No."
"But you know what I'm talking about," Cosima remarked.
They sat mulishly studying one another across the table. Cosima's ploy was deftly sprung and the more they traded nuggets of veiled information, the more Delphine understood Jennifer hadn't prepared her for this game and its wages. One of her exes had gotten caught up in a poker craze after seeing a movie with one of his friends. He delved into a variant he called Texas Hold'em, but hosted games that featured other styles of play. She felt like she and Cosima were engaged in one of those, where players were dealt a series of cards showing face up and others face down and she and Cosima were jockeying to see the other's hidden hand.
As the silence stretched, Cosima's respiration grew discernibly heavier. A niggle of doubt took up residence in Delphine's gut.
"All this urgency," Cosima said at last, "is it because of Katja?"
Delphine hesitated.
Cosima studied Delphine intently. "You're worried that maybe all of us are--" She waved a hand. "--predisposed?"
"You know as well as I do that it's a possibility," Delphine said softly.
"Well," Cosima said, turning away to gaze toward the windows, "I'll spare you the suspense and tell you what the tests will say: I'm sick."
*
There was perhaps a minute in which Delphine had no cognizance of whether she or Cosima said anything.
*
Words pierced the muted bubble:
"You okay, Doctor? You're looking a little pale."
Their meaning and the scrutiny Cosima was exercising on her face took time to arrange into sense. Delphine breathed in deeply, then out slowly, inhaled and exhaled again as perception rearranged itself. "What makes you think you are sick?"
"The coughing up blood bit was a pretty good giveaway." Cosima said it flatly but a tremble shuddered through her lower lip and a bright sheen lay over her eyes.
"How long have you known?" Delphine asked softly. "When did the symptoms start?"
Cosima blinked slowly. "A few days ago."
Delphine absorbed the revelation.
"What?" Cosima demanded.
Delphine met Cosima's eyes. "Is that why you came to the DYAD?"
Cosima's lips pressed together. She seemed to conduct a debate with herself. She glanced away, then back. "If what happened to Katja is happening to me, if this is something that's affecting us because we're clones, then I need to be in the place that knows us inside and out." Cosima leaned forward. "And that's here, with you guys. Right?"
Delphine sucked in her lips. "Then let's begin immediately. Your medical records are not up-to-date. Can we rectify that?"
Brown eyes searched Delphine's intently.
"Please?" entreated Delphine.
Cosima breathed out slowly. She nodded.
*
The blood tests, the scans, and the tissues that Cosima speckled with blood through heaving coughs over the next few days confirmed what Cosima knew: She was sick. The symptoms were what Cosima had heard affected Katja.
It looked the same as what wrought Jennifer bedridden.
With evidence amassed in hand, Delphine went to Aldous. Delphine skipped the preamble and set the folder before Aldous. "Cosima is showing the same symptoms as the other two."
Aldous's features slackened. For the first time Delphine watched the implications cascade through his comprehension. With the number of cases beginning to cluster within the given frame of time, he was wondering, like Delphine, if they were looking at an epidemic to Project LEDA.
Delphine sucked at her lips. "I might as well have remained with Jennifer."
Aldous's expression closed. Delphine peered at him closely, disquiet rising beneath her skin.
"What is it?" she asked.
"There's been a turn in Jennifer's case," Aldous intoned in a low voice. "Last night. She's slipped into a coma."
They stared at each other. Pressure gathered and grew and expanded within Delphine's skull.
"What will be done for Jennifer moving forward?"
Aldous folded his hands upon the desk. "In your professional opinion, what do you think can be done, Dr. Cormier?"
Delphine gazed at him in bullish silence. She didn't have an answer. She hadn't had an answer for months. The thought occurred to Delphine that they could make Jennifer's passing easy. But DYAD wouldn't want that. They'd want nature to run its course. To observe. To dissect.
As a case study.
They weren't wrong. The information would be valuable moving forward.
It was Delphine who'd grown reluctant.
"I think Cosima should be informed about Jennifer," Delphine proposed. "She already knows there was another subject that was ill--Katja. This is why she came here. She began to exhibit symptoms and she thought we might have the answers."
"Do we?" Aldous challenged her.
"We better find them," Delphine said, voice tight, "for her sake. This is the biology she came to study."
"Or perhaps just the foremost part," Aldous pointed out.
"In this our goals align with hers," Delphine retorted. "She already knows other clones exist. If we volunteer information to her freely and unprompted, it would be a sign that we trust her and want to work with her, openly." Delphine crossed her arms. "She came to us paranoid, but that doesn't mean she can't be won over."
Aldous hitched an eyebrow at her. "Are you proposing you can win her over?"
"I'm only saying it's a possibility. Possibilities are what drew me to the DYAD."
Aldous regarded her shrewdly. "Tread carefully, Delphine. Mind where your sympathies lie."
"Cosima's already far more invested than we knew. This isn't just her biology; it's her life."
"And I won't bar you from sharing what we've learned from Jennifer's case, but knowing about Jennifer specifically would contribute how?"
"It will give her a sense of urgency," Delphine said softly.
Aldous's forehead wrinkled with the ascent of his eyebrows. "Or send her packing."
"Where would she go?" Delphine wondered.
Aldous cocked his head. "That might be interesting to find out as well."
Delphine hesitated. "So I have your permission?"
Aldous shook his head. "No. You don't."
*
The brush veered slowly from its preliminarily straight trajectory to smear red all over Delphine's skin. Delphine chuckled. "You are . . . not very good at this."
"Oh, and you are?" Shay fired back as she swiped and dabbed at her mistake with her thumb. She managed to smear as much as she cleaned away.
"I wouldn't know. I leave it to the professionals," Delphine said frankly.
Shay moved onto the next nail, smiling to herself. "Don't worry, I won't make you walk out of here looking like a kindergartner went all arts and crafts on you. I just wanted to see what this color would look like on you."
"How does it look?" Delphine asked.
The fire engine red popped against Delphine's complexion.
"Fantastic," Shay declared flatly. "No surprise."
Delphine laughed. Shay lightly tapped the back of her hand. "Sit still."
Delphine obeyed. "I don't recall seeing you wear this color before."
"Because I don't wear it. It was an impulse buy. I was just in one of those moods when I was shopping that day, you know when you think you want a change. I thought I would wear it, but I like darker reds better."
"As do I," agreed Delphine. "This is not a color I would choose for myself."
"Yeah? Why not? You can pull it off."
"I think there is an English word. It's . . . garish?"
The laugh that overtook Shay threatened to spill polish. Wrestling herself under control, Shay said, "That's definitely a word that exists in the English language. Yes, this color is bright. Okay, sit still and let that dry a little bit before I put on a second coat."
"Another one?" Delphine protested. "On only one finger?"
"I'm only going to do one finger--just so we can see the true color. I'll take it off afterward, I promise. Weren't you the one who said you wanted to do something that required minimal thinking?"
"I did," admitted Delphine, "though I was thinking more along the lines of a movie. But you don't have a television and you get shy when I invite you to my apartment."
"Shy" was a liberal word choice. Reluctant was closer to the truth. Delphine had extended a few couched invitations. Shay had yet to take her up on one. It helped that Delphine's invitations tended to be spontaneous rather than proposals in the future, which allowed for the appearance of short notice to justify compromises of closer, more neutral locations to meet.
Delphine didn't press. She hadn't even made the offer tonight. But she'd noticed Shay's noncommittal responses, clearly. What she deduced from the observation or to what she attributed the avoidance Shay had no idea. It was difficult for Shay to pinpoint the source of her uneasiness. It wasn't Delphine. Not exactly. Shay was comfortable with Delphine's presence in her studio. It was an allocation and adjustment to which Shay had consciously submitted. That they met in her own home afforded a sense of control, that it was her space, her rules, on her terms.
It might be different in Delphine's domain.
"Yeah?" Shay asked. She blew lightly on Delphine's nail. Delphine wiggled her fingers. "What were you in the mood to watch?"
"You could have chosen," Delphine said, "as my guest."
Shay grinned to herself. "You'd watch a romcom with me?"
"That . . . would indeed require minimal thinking," Delphine afforded.
Shay chuckled. "Do you really find romcoms that uninteresting or is that a front you put on?"
Delphine raised her eyebrows. "You think I put on fronts?"
"Sometimes," Shay said softly, unscrewing the brush top of the bottle of polish, "I think you protest more passionately than you actually feel."
"Why would I do that?" Delphine asked, hand submitted limply to Shay's ministrations.
"I don't know," Shay allowed, sweeping a fresh layer atop Delphine's index finger, bringing out the true candy red of the color. "To see what kind of reaction you'll get?"
"From you?" Delphine wondered.
"I guess. I've only ever seen you talk to me."
Delphine lifted her index finger when Shay finished applying the second coat and sucked in her breath. "Garish."
"It doesn't look bad," Shay assured her, "but you'd have to be comfortable wearing it."
"I'm curious to see it on you," Delphine said.
Shay shook her head. "It appears just as bright on me as it does on you."
"But maybe you would wear it better," Delphine pressed, a warble of something strange in her tone. Shay frowned in confusion, then exasperation.
"Are you trying to push the point because I made that comment?"
Delphine smiled.
"Okay, for real," Shay said, twisting the cap unnecessarily to screw it closed tight, "do you actually do that to get under my skin?"
"I don't know," Delphine said. "That is, I don't know if I do it consciously." She gave her hand a little shake. "At least, not when I'm not purposefully teasing you."
Shay flushed. It took a second to find her voice. "I didn't expect you to admit to it."
"Why?" Delphine asked, tilting her head at a slight angle. "We both know it's true."
"Yeah, but normally," Shay said, avoiding Delphine's eyes, "people deflect a truth like that."
"Like you deflect my invitations to be a guest in my home?"
Shay raised her eyes cautiously. So. They were going to get into it, after all.
Delphine smiled, not coyly or teasingly, but feebly, tired in the way she had seemed weary for what felt like so long lately. "I can offer you dinner. And a television."
Shay sat quiet.
Delphine blinked almost sleepily. "Are you afraid of something?" Her lips twitched at the corners. "My cooking? If the prospect makes you nervous, I don't have to cook. I can manage takeout very well. Is it the television? I'm sure we can agree on something to watch."
Shay opened her mouth to lie--I don't want to be a burden--and simply inhaled instead. She held the breath and let it out in a little sigh. "I . . ." Shay glanced away. "I can't give you a real answer because I don't know the answer either."
Shay pushed herself to her feet to fetch the nail polish remover and cotton. Delphine watched her without a peep and offered her hand without prompting when Shay returned.
"I'm sorry," Delphine murmured as Shay concentrated on the stubborn red running all over the cotton fibers and Delphine's skin. "I--I'm a little tired today."
Shay stared unseeingly at Delphine's hand. Then she bit back a laugh. She raised her eyes to find Delphine's. "You mean you've been thinking about this, but you've been keeping it to yourself, and the only reason you asked now is because you're tired?"
Delphine's shoulders twitched in a shrug. "I suppose I thought you would accept an invitation eventually. It's not me, I don't think, otherwise you wouldn't allow me here in your home. Unless there's something you aren't telling me."
"You're welcome here," Shay assured her.
"And you're welcome in my home."
"I know," Shay said. "I know. Sometimes it's just--the timing is weird. You work longer hours than I do and you've been so busy--and--" Shay shook her head. "Will it sound weird if I say that I don't know how I'll feel in your home?" Delphine looked at her in question. "You've always . . . come to me. To my office. To my place. It's . . ." Shay settled on a slanted truth. "Kind of nice."
Delphine's eyes narrowed.
"What?" Shay asked.
"I think I understand," Delphine said.
Surprise jolted through Shay. "You do?"
"Maybe," Delphine allowed more cautiously. "The invitation is open, when you're ready."
"So I can show up at your door at two a.m.?" Shay teased.
"If there's something keeping you up until two a.m. that you need to come to my door, then, yes, of course, come over."
"Really?" Shay asked, wearing a smile of uncertain laughter.
Delphine nodded. "Yes. I'd welcome the opportunity to help you. For once."
Shay's heart skipped a pitter for a patter. She shook her head as she recovered. "I'm not sure you have the time to spare for any more troubles."
"I'd make time," Delphine replied immediately, then seemed to catch herself and sighed. "Though maybe you're right."
Shay relaxed into the familiar smile of sympathy. "At least today's Friday."
Delphine shook her head. "I plan to work tomorrow. I have a number of things I need to prepare."
"Is that why you wanted to veg out tonight?"
"Veg out?" Delphine repeated with perplexity.
"Do minimal thinking."
Delphine nodded. "It may be that I don't want to think about what I need to do."
Her friend's tired visage spurred an impulse. "Want a massage?"
"Excuse me?" Delphine asked.
Shay teased Delphine about returning to her massage table, even meant it in an official capacity, but she'd never made a casual offer of the genuine service. A danger for a precedent, perhaps, or maybe too much blurring of lines.
But they'd fuzzied a few tonight already, so what would another hurt.
"One-time offer," Shay said, to save some veneer of casualness. "On the house. As a bonus, you'll find out why I bought the couch given its construction."
Delphine's brow crinkled. "You bought that safety hazard deliberately because it's a safety hazard?"
Shay rolled her eyes. "It's not a safety hazard." She tapped the back of Delphine's hand. "Come on. I'm going to show you to appreciate it."
//
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