butter pecan and strawberry with sprinkles
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: Sparsile
Rating: G
Challenge: Strawberry #11: apron, Butter Pecan #8: sweet
Toppings/Extras: sprinkles
Wordcount: 627
Summary: Adam Kirby could never have gone into astrophysics.
Notes: So this totally explains Adam and Cassidy’s relationship. And Adam generally.
Robyn couldn’t help but like Adam Kirby, even though he was absolutely baffling. He seemed to have that effect on most people. Even those that went deliberately out of their way to dislike him-Adele Merritt, for instance-ended up more stunned than anything else. There was something about the enthusiastic scientist which arrested her ability to snap.
“I used to be into space and astrophysics and that sort of thing a while ago,” he was saying from inside a very weird contraption he was in the middle of constructing, voice ringing from the metal sides. His fiercely blonde head popped over the top and he turned to Cassidy LaJoie, his sidekick scientist. Or at least, that was how Robyn saw it. “Actually, I loved it. Cass, can you pass the temporal capacitor?”
Cassidy did so in silence.
“Hey, awesome,” Robyn grinned broadly from across the lab. She would admit it unashamedly; she had no social life. None. Since Wolfgang had died and she’d been made team leader, all she did was do the heavy-duty behind-the-scenes administration that came with Newson running such a heavily used black ops team. She didn’t do it against her will. Robyn liked immersing herself in work. Still, it was nice to have company sometimes… “Why didn’t you go into it?”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” Adam said, hopping back into the machinery, among the split wires and half-constructed control panel. “It made me emotional.”
“Really?” Robyn asked, unable to suppress a grin.
“Every time I saw a sparsile star, I’d just get sad…”
“A what?”
“You know,” Adam sighed softly, “a star without a constellation.”
“Oh, wow,” Robyn said. She had no idea what else to say, although the instinct to hug the crazy scientist became stronger than ever. Sometimes she wondered how someone as… was there even a word for it? How someone as adjective as Adam ended up working for an arse like Newson. She tilted her head. “I bet there are a lot of those.”
“There are.”
“Aren’t constellations totally subjective?” Cassidy suddenly said. “I mean, different cultures use entirely different sets of constellations. Humans put the stars into patterns, it’s not like they’re even that close together in reality, they just look that way from Earth. It’s an entirely self-centred way of grouping stars.”
“That’s it, though,” Adam continued. “Who are we to decide which stars are put together into a group? Just because one star doesn’t make an emu or a belt or a scorpion… why should we exclude one over the other, even if it’s just as brilliant and tries just as hard?”
“Tries hard?” Cassidy asked sceptically. “Anyway, the stars don’t really care, do they? Even if they were sentient-which they’re not-they wouldn’t really care because most of them are probably dead by now. The light takes millions of years to get here.”
Adam sighed again.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said in his extraordinarily agreeable way; he wouldn’t dispute with someone if he were paid. “But I can’t help it.”
“Adam,” Robyn finally managed. “You really need…” Help? A hug? A friend? A girlfriend? Or boyfriend, you never know… “A nice cup of tea. I’ll go get it.” She sprang to her feet. “You want one too, Cass?”
He muttered in assent and Adam beamed at her.
“Thank you,” he said pleasantly.
“Adam,” Robyn said again. You are too nice for this lab and this company and possibly this whole planet. You are going to get killed like every other chief scientist we’ve ever had in this lab and I really don’t want that to happen. He looked at her for a long moment. She began stepping backwards to the door, plastering an uneasy smile on her face. “You are very welcome.”
Title: Sparsile
Rating: G
Challenge: Strawberry #11: apron, Butter Pecan #8: sweet
Toppings/Extras: sprinkles
Wordcount: 627
Summary: Adam Kirby could never have gone into astrophysics.
Notes: So this totally explains Adam and Cassidy’s relationship. And Adam generally.
Robyn couldn’t help but like Adam Kirby, even though he was absolutely baffling. He seemed to have that effect on most people. Even those that went deliberately out of their way to dislike him-Adele Merritt, for instance-ended up more stunned than anything else. There was something about the enthusiastic scientist which arrested her ability to snap.
“I used to be into space and astrophysics and that sort of thing a while ago,” he was saying from inside a very weird contraption he was in the middle of constructing, voice ringing from the metal sides. His fiercely blonde head popped over the top and he turned to Cassidy LaJoie, his sidekick scientist. Or at least, that was how Robyn saw it. “Actually, I loved it. Cass, can you pass the temporal capacitor?”
Cassidy did so in silence.
“Hey, awesome,” Robyn grinned broadly from across the lab. She would admit it unashamedly; she had no social life. None. Since Wolfgang had died and she’d been made team leader, all she did was do the heavy-duty behind-the-scenes administration that came with Newson running such a heavily used black ops team. She didn’t do it against her will. Robyn liked immersing herself in work. Still, it was nice to have company sometimes… “Why didn’t you go into it?”
“It wouldn’t have worked,” Adam said, hopping back into the machinery, among the split wires and half-constructed control panel. “It made me emotional.”
“Really?” Robyn asked, unable to suppress a grin.
“Every time I saw a sparsile star, I’d just get sad…”
“A what?”
“You know,” Adam sighed softly, “a star without a constellation.”
“Oh, wow,” Robyn said. She had no idea what else to say, although the instinct to hug the crazy scientist became stronger than ever. Sometimes she wondered how someone as… was there even a word for it? How someone as adjective as Adam ended up working for an arse like Newson. She tilted her head. “I bet there are a lot of those.”
“There are.”
“Aren’t constellations totally subjective?” Cassidy suddenly said. “I mean, different cultures use entirely different sets of constellations. Humans put the stars into patterns, it’s not like they’re even that close together in reality, they just look that way from Earth. It’s an entirely self-centred way of grouping stars.”
“That’s it, though,” Adam continued. “Who are we to decide which stars are put together into a group? Just because one star doesn’t make an emu or a belt or a scorpion… why should we exclude one over the other, even if it’s just as brilliant and tries just as hard?”
“Tries hard?” Cassidy asked sceptically. “Anyway, the stars don’t really care, do they? Even if they were sentient-which they’re not-they wouldn’t really care because most of them are probably dead by now. The light takes millions of years to get here.”
Adam sighed again.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said in his extraordinarily agreeable way; he wouldn’t dispute with someone if he were paid. “But I can’t help it.”
“Adam,” Robyn finally managed. “You really need…” Help? A hug? A friend? A girlfriend? Or boyfriend, you never know… “A nice cup of tea. I’ll go get it.” She sprang to her feet. “You want one too, Cass?”
He muttered in assent and Adam beamed at her.
“Thank you,” he said pleasantly.
“Adam,” Robyn said again. You are too nice for this lab and this company and possibly this whole planet. You are going to get killed like every other chief scientist we’ve ever had in this lab and I really don’t want that to happen. He looked at her for a long moment. She began stepping backwards to the door, plastering an uneasy smile on her face. “You are very welcome.”