CHAPTER 4: CHEMISTRY
~Scott~
Wandering the neon-lit streets of Addenbrooke, bag slung over me shoulder,
chemicals rattlin' inside, me mood was as grey as the sky. Had to fetch some
supplies Eliana needed—hardly me idea of a thrill.
As I trudged along, lost in me thoughts, a sharp shatter rang out in the
distance.
"The hell was that?"
Curiosity sparked, I followed the noise 'round the corner—only to find a
makeshift fight pit in the middle of the street. Holo-ads flickered overhead,
their glow mixin' with the sweat and blood of two scrappers dukin' it out. The
crowd roared, shovin' creds onto their betting apps, some even streamin' the
brawl live.
"Blimey, didn't expect this on me errand run today."
One scrapper, a wiry lad with more grit than sense, caught a vicious right
hook. His head snapped back, the crowd eatin' it up. Then—I recognized him.
"Hold on a tick… Ain't that Timmy O'Malley?"
Timmy bloody O'Malley. Best scrapper this side of the Thames, always lookin'
for trouble. We'd crossed paths back when I had a steady gig and a place to
call me own. If he spotted me, he might try collectin' on that "debt"
he swore I owed him.
"Come on, Timmy," I muttered. "Get yer fists up, lad."
Timmy ducked, weaved, dodgin' wild swings. Then—bang. A flurry of punches, fast
as hell, sent his opponent stumblin'. One final blow, and down the poor sod
went. The crowd exploded, hollerin' as the ref raised Timmy's hand.
A grin tugged at me lips.
"Timmy, you bloody rascal," I murmured, slippin' away before he
spotted me.
As the crowd scattered, I made me way back to the lab, the chilly air nippin'
at me nose.
"Bet the bugger's still celebratin' that win."
The streets of Addenbrooke were near empty, save for the occasional
self-driving cab gliding past and the flicker of neon ads reflecting off
rain-slick pavement. A stray cat slinked through the shadows, its cybernetic
eye gleaming as it scanned me for food—or maybe trouble.
The solitude of the alleys was almost comforting, givin' me thoughts room to
wander as I ambled through the dim glow of flickerin' holo-signs.
"Gotta say, I've never seen Timmy fight with such fire," I muttered
to meself. "Hope the lad's makin' the most of that win."
With every turn, I drew closer to the lab, that familiar buzz of excitement
stirrin' in me chest. I'd been workin' with Eliana and the lads for a good
while now, and our experiments were startin' to show real promise.
Then, up ahead, a silhouette stood against the pulsin' glow of a storefront
display. Maggie.
A chill prickled up me spine, and not from the night air. Somethin' about
Maggie's presence always made me heart skip a beat.
"Well, well, Maggie me lass," I murmured, a smirk tuggin' at me lips.
"Didn't take you for the type to lurk in the dark."
She turned, arms crossed, her expression half amusement, half exasperation.
"Eliana sent me to find you," she said with a chuckle. "Figured
you'd get lost or distracted."
"So, you've been tailin' me like some hired tracker, eh? As you can see, I
didn't go missin'—but you won't believe what I stumbled on."
Maggie raised a brow. "Go on, then. Let's hear it."
I gestured for her to walk with me. "Picture this—back alley fight pit,
neon signs flickerin', crowd goin' mad. And in the middle of it? Timmy
O'Malley. The scrapper himself, still throwin' fists like the world owes him
somethin'."
Maggie scoffed. "Timmy? Thought he'd gotten himself locked up or
worse."
"Nah, still kickin'—and winnin', too. I put a few creds on him. Walked
away with a nice bit o' change." I patted me pocket with a grin.
She let out a laugh, shakin' her head. "You never change, Scott. How much
did you win?"
"A tidy sum," I said, smirkin'. "Enough to buy us a round or
two."
Maggie rolled her eyes, but the amusement was clear. "Always makin' the
best of a situation, aren't ya?"
"It's a gift," I said as we neared the bar, its holo-sign buzzin'
with static. "And one I'm happy to share tonight."
She chuckled as she stepped inside. "Lead the way, Scott."
The neon glow of the bar wrapped around us as we took our seats. I flagged the barkeep
for a round.
"To Timmy O'Malley, the scrapper!" I toasted, lifting my glass.
"May his fists never stop."
Maggie clinked her glass with mine. "To Timmy, champ of the alleys! May
his pockets be as full as his fists."
We sipped our drinks, the bar buzzing with laughter and the soft hum of
synth-jazz in the background.
"So, Scott," Maggie leaned in, "how'd you manage to catch that
fight between errands?"
I smirked, taking a sip. "A little detour, Maggie. A man's gotta eat,
right? And while I was picking up fish, I heard a crowd. Couldn't resist."
Maggie raised an eyebrow. "A detour to the fishmonger?"
"Sometimes, the excitement's in the unexpected," I shrugged.
"Eliana's work's important, but a little adventure makes the day worth
it."
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're impossible. What about
Eliana?"
"She's brilliant, no doubt," I said, swirling me drink. "But
sometimes I wonder if she's missing out on the thrill of life outside the
lab."
Maggie nodded, tapping her glass. "Life's not all work. There's joy in a
good drink, good company… a bit of fun."
"Aye, Maggie, you've got the right of it," I agreed, tapping my
temple. "Life's a story. It needs drama, adventure, and a bit of romance.
Otherwise, what's the point?"
She chuckled. "How about we write our own story tonight? One full of good
drinks and maybe a bit of… something else."
She added, smirking. Her fingers tapped closer to mine, slow
and deliberate.
I grinned. Not saying anything.
Her eyes sparkled as she nodded to the alleyway by the bar.
'One night of bliss shouldn't hurt…
Maybe if the world wasn't burning, I'd let meself enjoy
this… just for a little while.'
I thought.
The bag sat at me feet, right where I'd dropped it. I should
probably do something about that. Should keep it close. But then Maggie slid my
drink over, her knee knocking against mine under the table.
"You gonna relax or what?"
She chuckled, fingers on mine.
Before I knew it, she had me by the wrist, pulling me into
the shadows. Her grip tightened as she pinned me to the wall, eyes searching mine.
"You're thinking too much."
"Yeah, maybe."
"Then stop," she murmured, stepping closer.
Her body pressed flush
against mine. The cold brick bit into me back, a stark contrast to the warmth
of her breath ghosting over me skin. Then, before I could even process, our
lips collided.
A flicker of doubt crept in, but I didn't pull away.
Her lips were soft, a mix of whiskey and something sweet,
leaving a trail of heat wherever they moved. I felt the tension coil in me
chest, hands instinctively finding her waist, pulling her closer. A sudden
guilt crept in as me heart pounded, body tensing at the heat building between
us. Maggie moaned in response, her fingers slipping through me hair, tugging
just enough to send a shiver down me spine.
"Maggie,"
I whispered, unsure of what to say. But the longing in her
gaze told me all I needed to know.
She pulled back, smiling, her eyes gleaming in the alley's
dim light.
"Come with me, Scotty, got a few things to show
you."
Heart racing, I followed her deeper into the shadows. She
pushed open a hidden door, revealing a secret club bathed in red light. The air
was thick with smoke and something unspoken—the kind of place where anything
could happen, no questions asked. It was quiet—just enough privacy for whatever
came next.
We went in for another round. Her cherry breath bathed me
face in pure bliss as her lips pressed against mine, slower this time, savoring
the moment. She pulled back again, eyes smoldering, fingers tracing down me
chest before she stripped off me jacket. Her hands grabbed mine, guiding them
to her thighs, the warmth of her skin sending a shock through me, before she
slowly unbuckled me belt.
There was nothing I could do but follow her lead. I grabbed
her and towed her onto the table, the wood groaning under us as glasses
shattered against the floor. Our lips met again, a heist of breath and
recklessness, engulfed in mindless passion.
I gripped her tightly as more glasses fell, the sound barely
registering over the pounding in me ears. But then—crash.
Me mind jolted back. The shattered glass on the floor. The
bag of chemicals.
"Maggie—the chemicals."
I barely got the words out between breaths.
She froze, her face turning grim, fingers slipping away. She
couldn't believe I was stopping for this. I couldn't find a better excuse. Maggie
was a sight for sore eyes but right now, I wasn't ready for this. Not yet.
She'll hate me for this.
"Scott, you can't be serious. Right now?"
I stole one last taste of cherry from her lips, hoping to
ease her down a bit.
"It's been three hours, Maggie. I'll make it up to ya,
promise." I added, hopefully I'll be ready someday.
"Promise?"
"Yeah, promise."
She exhaled sharply, hopping off the table and adjusting her
clothes with a huff. She headed for the door.
I grabbed the bag of chemicals, shaking off the lingering
heat as I followed.
Outside, I slid a few bills to the barkeep. "For the
damages."
He barely glanced up, still drying a glass. "The place
is dead, bruv. No customers?"
I watched him, his movements slow, almost bored. "Half
the city fled after the news about toxins spreading again. Hardly anyone comes
for a drink, let alone hangs out back there."
He replied, face contorted in disappointment.
"Ahh, I see."
"Yeah. What's up with her? You guys have a fight?"
He nodded toward Maggie, standing at the exit, arms crossed.
"Nah, something else." I replied, stealing a
glance at her.
The barkeep smirked. "Oh! Got it. Just make it up to
her next time, a'ight? I'll keep a cozy spot for ya."
"Scott!" Maggie snapped, her voice sharp.
"Oh boy, she's feisty."
I sighed. "Coming!"
I rushed after her as we stumbled out of the bar.
Maggie walked ahead, arms crossed, jaw tight. She hadn't
said a word since we left the bar.
I kept pace beside her. "Is this about earlier?"
She let out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "Forget it."
I sighed. "Maggie, talk to me."
She finally looked at me, her eyes sharp. "Would've been
nice to know you'd actually fight for something."
I exhaled slowly, choosing my words. "I didn't want to mess
things up." She didn't answer, just shook her head and kept walking.
"So..."
"That's enough, Scott. The chemicals need to get to the
lab, right?" she snapped.
"Maggie, I jus…" before the words came out she
broke into a sprint down the road.
"Hey, hold up!" I shouted, chasing after her, dragging the bag behind
me as we dashed down the alleyway. The streets of Addenbrooke seemed quieter
now, almost eerie.
As we neared the lab, the streets grew even more still. I stopped, breathing
heavily, watching Maggie wait for the elevator doors to open. When they did,
she tried to lock me out.
"Hold it, c'mon, Maggie!" I called, but she was giving me the silent
treatment. The elevator doors started to close steadily.
She didn't speak, not even when the elevator beeped, beginning its ascent. She
leaned against the back wall, arms still crossed, but the tension in her
shoulders eased. A slow breath left her, almost like she was letting something
go. Then, finally, a teasing smirk crept across her face.
"Didn't think you'd make it."
I didn't have the energy for a comeback. I just nodded,
still trying to catch my breath. "Yeah, well… here I am."
Maggie turned her head, studying me. Her gaze lingered a bit too long. "I
didn't know you were so competitive."
"I'm not," I muttered, trying to downplay it. "I just don't like
losing."
She chuckled, but there was something in her eyes—playful, teasing. "Is
that what you call it?"
"Yeah," I replied, stealing a glance at her, not wanting to get
locked in her gaze. "What else would I call it?"
She smiled, lips curling into something more amused. "Nothing, I guess.
But you did just chase me all the way across the building, so I think I deserve
a little more credit."
"Fine, you win. You're fast," I said, just as the elevator doors slid
open, revealing a rather curious sight. "Oh my—"
Maggie froze, halting just before the doors closed behind us. Eliana and Jamal
stood there in the dim light, eyes locked, bodies stiff, like time had slammed
to a halt.
They snapped back to attention as I intentionally dropped the chemical bags on
the steel table. The awkwardness of the situation rippling through the air like
a shockwave. Their bodies remained still, but their expressions betrayed a
mixture of embarrassment and relief.
Eliana, cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and relief, stepped towards
the workbench and picked up Jamal's spectacles. In that moment, the silence
seemed to echo through the room, each tick of the clock magnifying the
awkwardness that hung in the air.
I took a step forward and muttered to meself,
"Aye, now that's a bit of a wonder ain't it?" I chuckled slightly.
Eliana handed the spectacles back to Jamal, her hands shaking ever so slightly.
Jamal, his nerves betraying him, fumbled with the glasses, finally managing to
slide them on with a nervous chuckle.
I glanced between them, a smile playing on my lips as I muttered beneath my
breath.
"Ah, Love in the lab—ain't that a tale to tell."