SPIDER! {Melissa}

[OLIVER QUINN]

Oliver had been working quite diligently for several hours that afternoon, and he had successfully completed his new Automatic Turbo Card Cutting Machine. (Something he believed could make him a fortune in the casino business. If they were smart enough to buy his invention, of course! He needed to get a patent straight away.)

Having finished this project, he'd gone to bed feeling quite accomplished indeed. He'd cleaned up, brushed his teeth thoroughly with his modified electric toothbrush (it ended up going a bit haywire and getting caught in his hair, but that was just a little hiccup!), and got dressed for bed. He'd even managed to fall asleep quite peacefully in his bed, without any trouble.

However, he did have a dream. And when he woke up from that dream at three o' clock in the morning, he knew what he had to do.

A new invention. He had the perfect idea.

Frantically, he leapt from his bed, still in his pajamas, his brown hair even messier than usual. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and, half in the dark, began to scribble blueprints, calculations, plans, measurements, theories. Yes. Yes. It was an absolutely brilliant new idea. It would earn him millions of dollars and international fame and there was simply absolutely no time to waste! He had to begin it now, or else he might forget the specific schematics of his most wonderful device com morning, and then all was lost! No, no, no, now was the time to do it. He would make himself some tea or something, but Oliver Quinn vowed that he would not rest until this new creation of his was complete and operational.

A plan like this might be problematic during the week; after all, Oliver did have a job, and as an aerospace engineer, no less. Of course, now that the shuttle program was coming to a close in America, he might have to move into a new field of study, like astrophysics, but he wouldn't mind that, he was always interested in those sorts of things--

Well, as it goes, a plan like this might be problematic during the week because of his job, but this was a Friday night (or rather, a Saturday morning). He had the entire weekend to slave away on his beautiful project before he had to return to work.

At about four o' clock, Oliver had the basic plan of his machine ready to go, and he was prepared to begin basic construction. Framework, yes. He needed to get that down first.

Grabbing all his blueprints and notes and calculations, Oliver flew from his bedroom into his workshop, the repurposed sitting room in his comfortably roomy apartment. (Building rockets paid very well.) Excited beyond all reason, he flicked on the light and scrambled towards his desk, tripping and falling on his face on the way there. Nose and pride hurting, but glad no-one had been around to see it, Oliver sat up, dusted himself off, checked his glasses for breaks, and bounded the last few steps to his desk.

"Inventing, inventing, where is my toolbox, it's here, isn't it?" Amidst the heaps of wood and scrap metal, the spare gears and scattered screws and abandoned hammers that populated Oliver's delightfully (if disastrously) messy workshop, he drew his toolbox, after a long and determined search. He was ready. He set the toolbox on the top of the desk, opened it, and--

"SWEET MOTHER OF SCHRODINGER!" Oliver shrieked, nearly falling over in his panic as a huge, black, ugly spider came crawling out of his toolbox, his precious, precious toolbox. A SPIDER. Oliver. Hated. Spiders.

"OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod!" he practically squeaked, tripping several times as he fled the room, whimpering in terror. There were few things he was truly afraid of, but spiders...spiders were one of them. He was terrified of spiders. Absolutely terrified. And that was the biggest, ugliest, blackest spider he had ever seen in all his 26 years of life.

He grabbed his phone, panicking, his mind blanking on who to call. Kerli? No, she had studying to do. Uh. Uh. He didn't really have anyone else! Shit, shit, shit, he was trapped in this house with that spider, and--

That's when it hit him. Melissa.

Melissa was his neighbor, who lived a few doors down from him. She made marvelous cookies, she was incredibly pretty, and above all else, she was impeccably kind to Oliver. They weren't very close friends, but he did know her, and he did have her number. He hoped she wouldn't mind--

Of course she would mind! But this was a crisis!

Picking up the phone, he madly dialed her number and brought the phone to his ear, muttering, "PleasepickupMelissapleasepickup..."

[MELISSA HEWITT]

It had been a long day. Her schedule at school had been packed which left no time at all for paperwork, so she’d had to stay late to catch up on that. Melissa loved her job, thank goodness, of she would’ve hated every moment in that office. Luckily, though, she’d had her number of late days so she’d grown used to being the last person to leave. Still, no matter how often she stayed late, it would always be strange to find the campus so empty. Melissa was used to students hurrying to their next class or loitering in the halls.

So, when Melissa finally arrived home, three hours after school was out, she was exhausted. Forty-five minutes later, her fingers were wrinkly and she was feeling much better. Bubble baths always worked after a long day. As did cooking. Somehow, cooking and sewing put her at ease. So, with a pot of soup going on the stove, she settled into her most comfortable armchair and continued working on a scarf that was taking much too long to finish. The night went by slowly and peacefully.

She’d done a crossword puzzle while eating her soup and had started a batch of cookies before doing a load of laundry. It was a slow and peaceful night but she managed to keep busy, feeling it was too early for sleep. Finally, though, with a glance to the clock, she realized it was nearing eleven. Taking two cookies and a glass of milk to bed with her, Melissa put the others away and double checked to make sure everything was cleaned up. She hated to leave a mess behind, especially during the night.

Melissa slept like a log, as always. Hardly anything could wake her up, save for the alarm. Tonight, though, seemed to be an exception. The one night she’d left her cell phone on the nightstand instead of in the kitchen. It was going off and though it was just on vibrate, it still woke her. It might have been that it was rattling against the base of her desk lamp. Struggling out from under her sheets, she groped around for the phone and finding it. Melissa answered without looking to see who was calling at – she glanced to her alarm – four in the morning?!

“Hello?” she mumbled sleepily, returning to the warmth of her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin with her free hand.

[OLIVER QUINN]

Oh, God, now he'd gone and done it. He'd gone and awoken this monster in the middle of the night when no-one was awake to save him and it was going to crawl all over him and bite him and he'd probably DIE and then his landlady would find his rotting corpse when she came to bother him about paying the rent and oh God he was going to die and his older brother Wilbur would probably prepare a nice funeral and his younger brother Miles would be too busy to come and then--

"Hello?"

Oliver relaxed.

Melissa had picked up. There was hope for him.

"M-Melissa!" he stammered out. "Um, hey, hi, I'm...I'm really sorry to bother you, I know it's...um..." He squinted at the analog clock on the wall. "4:05-ish, but I, ah...oh...uh..."

It suddenly dawned on him how incredibly embarrassing the entire scenario was.

Oliver was a grown man. He was 26 years old, he had a graduate degree and a very well-paying job, his own place, his own bank account...he even made his own breakfast! (And for someone as horrible at everyday tasks as Oliver seemed to be, that was an accomplishment indeed.) Melissa was a grown woman - he didn't know exactly how old she was, but she had her own job and her own life and she was also really really pretty, and Oliver had noticed that but he was too awkward to say anything, and sweet mother of Schrodinger, he was waking her up at 4 AM to help him kill a spider.

He would never have a girlfriend.

For a moment, Oliver considered hanging up, taking on the spider himself; he was a grown man, after all! An adult! He could do this on his own!

But then, he saw the huge spider crawling across the floor towards him, its hairy legs skittering over the glossy wood, out of the workshop, right at him like it was hell-bent on his destruction.

And Oliver, terrified, screamed.

"OHFORTHELOVEOFMARIECURIE--M-Melissa, I'm really, really sorry, I don't mean to wake you, but there'sareallybig--"

His words caught in his throat, and Oliver froze, terrified. His aphasia was especially fond of making him forget words just when he needed them the most. Swallowing several choice words in several different languages for how he felt about the situation, he stuttered dumbly for a moment before trying again. "A s...ah...s..." Dammit! The spider was nearly five feet from him now, and he let out a squeak, sliding across the floor in panic.

"ARACHNID!" he screeched, trying to keep his voice to a level that wouldn't break her eardrums despite his obvious terror.

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa had almost dozed off again though it had only taken a few seconds for the person on the other end to speak. Any other time, she would’ve recognized the voice easily, but she was half-asleep now. Rubbing her eyes with her free hand, Melissa fought back her sleepiness and tried to focus. Why hadn’t they said who it was? She slowly eased herself up until she was leaning against the headboard. They had paused and she filled the silence with a groggy, “no, it’s fine.” It was alright. She would’ve had to wake up in another hour and a half or so anyway to get ready for work. If she couldn’t get back to sleep afterwards, she’d just have more time to make a good breakfast.

Her arm had started to lower in the momentary silence, sleepiness taking over again. However, a sudden scream jolted her awake and she practically flew out of her bed, suddenly startled and worried. “Are you alright?!” she exclaimed, scrambling for the light switch. Upon hearing ‘for the love of Marie Curie,’ Melissa became aware that it was Oliver who was calling her. A tiny smile graced her lips, remembering when they’d met. She’d moved in recently and it was a batch of cookies that had him knocking at her door. Having made way too many, she’d given him quite a few to take back with him. He was very sweet and endearing and handsome and she enjoyed her conversations with him.

Melissa had already stepped into her slippers, wide awake now thanks to the lit up room and Oliver’s screaming. She continued to the kitchen, taking a plate from the cupboard and a few cookies from the Tupperware container she’d put them in. He screamed again quite suddenly and she jumped, nearly dropping the phone. “Goodness!” she murmured, “I’m on my way now, alright?” She told him, holding the phone between her ear and shoulder as she opened her apartment door. Luckily, he was only a few doors down. She headed down the hall, balancing her phone and the plate of cookies, before stopping and knocking. “Oliver, it’s Melissa.”

[OLIVER QUINN]

"OkaythankyouI'msorry--EEK!" Oliver scrambled to his feet, but his socks slipped on the floor and he only managed to fall into a table in the next room, knocking a whole mess of gadgets, gizmos, and tools onto the floor (as well as a potted plant that Oliver had been fond of). Swearing under his breath (but not very badly, he rarely used harsh swear words), he sat up, rubbing his head. "Owwww," he mumbled, the spider momentarily forgotten.

That was, until he caught sight of it skittering towards him again.

"AUGH!" Oliver scrambled backwards again, picking up anything within reach and throwing it at the spider. He barely noticed when he cut his hand on a piece of the shattered clay pot; he was too busy pitching everything he could towards that damn spider, including his phone. "Die die die die why won't you die!" he hissed, getting on his hands and knees to crawl away from the spider (and subsequently getting blood on the floor).

The knock on the door made his head jerk up, and he sprang to his feet.

"Melissa?" His whole body relaxed. He jerked the door open and grinned at her, though the grin was a bit harried and nervous. "O-oh, you brought cookies! You didn't have to. But thank you. I mean. Um. S-so, er, I'm...there's a spider and I reallyreallyhatespiders and I'msorrytobotheryoubutIthought maybe you could help me please?" He was speaking so fast that it was a bit hard to understand him, but the puppy dog eyes he pulled were probably convincing enough. "I was working and it crawled out of my toolbox and scared the living daylights out of me and then I swear to God it tried to attack me!"

[MELISSA HEWITT]

There was more shouting and the sound of things being thrown when the line went dead. “Oliver?” Melissa said worriedly, checking her phone to see what had gone wrong. By the sounds she’d heard, she could only assume that he’d thrown his cell phone at the spider. It almost made her chuckle. Throwing things at a spider would hardly help. She shifted on her feet and tucked her phone away before knocking again. The noises from behind the door were anything but reassuring. When he finally opened the door, she took a step back in surprise. He seemed quite panicky.

“I wanted to,” she told him with a warm smile, handing him the plate of cookies. “I baked way too many.” Melissa stepped passed him into the room. It was an absolute mess. Melissa nodded distractedly, already looking around for something she could use. “I understand. I have trouble with spiders, too.” It wasn’t as bad as this, but she had never been good at dealing with insects in her apartment, from spiders to cockroaches. Even thinking of it made her shudder. “Working?” She repeated, trying now to distract Oliver from thinking about the spider. “What were you working on so late at night?”

Finding a clear glass, Melissa looked around for the spider. She thought maybe it’d be easy to find, but they could be sneaky little critters. She laughed a little. “Well, you were throwing a lot of stuff at it. Maybe it was just trying to dodge them—” She paused, catching sight of the spider. Creeping towards it very carefully, Melissa slowly leaned down and once she was close enough, set it down over the spider. Melissa straightened up and grinned, hands on her hips. She turned to face Oliver, “voila!” It was the best way to handle spiders, she thought.

Grabbing the nearest sheet of paper, she slowly slid it beneath the glass, trapping the spider in the glass. She briefly noticed what seemed to be blood on the floor before standing up. Picking it up, she looked around and finally decided on letting it out through the window. “Oliver,” she started, opening the window and then picking the glass back up. “Did you cut yourself in the mess?” She asked, turning to him once the spider was safely out the window and the window closed.

Melissa returned to Oliver and looked him over, concerned. How he had not noticed before bewildered her, but then again, she was very sensitive to pain.

[OLIVER QUINN]

It had been a stupid idea to throw the phone at the spider. Now he might have broken it! But no matter, no matter. Had he killed the thing yet? He couldn’t even tell! Ohhh, why did spiders have to be so...disturbing? Who had ever heard of a nice spider? Well, besides in that book by E. B. White...and maybe some other things, he really couldn’t remember.

Nevermind. Spiders! Why was he even thinking about them more than he had to?!

Oliver seemed comforted by Melissa’s response. “Oh! Well. In that case. Bring them in. I love cookies, you know. Delicious. They’ll be far more delicious after I brutally murder this eight-legged fiend...” He cast a terrified glance over his shoulder and felt his face for his glasses, having forgotten if he was still wearing them or not.

“I really do hate them,” he added thoughtfully, running a hand through his eternally-messy brown hair. “Disgusting creatures. Good for the ecosystem and all that, but I just can’t handle them. Gah. Awful.” He shook his head, momentarily distracted by thoughts of creepy crawlies until her voice snapped him back to reality. “What? Oh! Well, I had this completely brilliant idea, you see, it could make me millions of dollars if I can just configure it correctly, so I had to get out of bed and get started right away or else I’d forget! Why, just last week, I had a wonderful idea for some sort of machine, but then I went to sleep and forgot all about it come morning!”

He watched her carefully as she approached the spider with the glass, following a few feet behind her like a nervous child as he allowed his panicked ramblings to trail off. How brave she was! He could never get so close to a spider like that. Wow!

Oliver couldn’t help but grin at her courage.

“Wow!” He applauded as she caught the spider, but the smacking of his hands together proved to be quite painful, and with a bit of an unhappy lurch, he remembered that he had sliced open his hand.

“Ummmm...so it seems that I did,” he mumbled, looking down at his bleeding palm. “How troublesome...”

After years of faulty experiments, Oliver was used to being hurt. A cut didn’t bother him much.

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa grinned, “Who doesn’t? I find them to be far more delicious freshly baked.” Her eyebrows raised slightly, Melissa shook her head. Glancing back to the window she’d just let the spider out of, Melissa wondered how people could kill spiders so easily sometimes. Sure, if they were big and scary and poisonous, she could understand that. But when they were probably just startled and looking for somewhere warm to stay when it was so cold outside? “I don’t think you really need to kill them. Like you said,” Melissa said, looking back to Oliver. “Good for the ecosystem.”

His hair was disarrayed as usual and she felt a strange urge to play with it, making her feel rather childish. She smiled, wondering how somebody’s hair could be that messy. It wasn’t a big deal and she wasn’t quite sure why she was thinking about it now; probably just half-asleep mind ramblings. Full consciousness was slowly coming to her, though, and she was awake enough to pay attention to Oliver’s response. Millions of dollars? “Goodness! That’s a ton of money.” He’d be famous for it, surely, and then he’d probably move some place exotic and exciting. Or perhaps that was just her. “I completely understand. I keep a small notebook nearby in case I wake up with a wonderful dream or idea so I can jot it down right away.”

Melissa carefully took his wrist and examined the cut on his hand. “Have you got a first-aid kit?” Did others keep first-aid kits handy? She had one and she had extras but not everybody was as cautious as she was. It certainly could’ve been worse; she was just relieved that it wouldn’t need stitches. “You must be used to it,” she said, looking up at him with a smile. “I imagine inventing can get pretty dangerous at times.”

[OLIVER QUINN]

Oliver’s eyes widened, and he nodded emphatically. “Oh, of course! Freshly baked is the best. Particularly chocolate-chip. The chips get all hard if you leave them for more than a day, you know? Of course, I’ve made myself sick trying to preserve that chocolatey wonder...” he reflected with a frown, brow furrowing a bit. “Hrm. Ah, well...” He glanced back towards the window through which the spider had escaped, as if checking to make sure it was really gone and not about to crawl back through with a thousand spidery brethren.

“Mmm...yes, true, and I’m really not one for killing animals,” he admitted, shaking his head. “There ‘s just something about spiders I can’t stand! Must be the legs. I’ve always felt that things with more than four feet on the ground were more like a machine than a living thing...” Flashing her a sheepish look, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Er. But that’s just me. Pretty stupid, really.”

He ran his hand from the back of his neck to the top of his head and ruffled his hair nervously, one of his habits that contributed to the restless state in which his brown locks seemed to be permanently suspended. It was possible for him to make it look tidy, if he really wanted to, but he didn’t. Oliver didn’t really register the idea of being messy if it didn’t make him feel uncomfortable; it was why he so frequently buttoned his shirts incorrectly or got paint on his face and didn’t even notice.

“Exactly!” he exclaimed excitedly, throwing an arm in the air. “And that is precisely what I mean! Except that that doesn’t always work for me. I have to go and do it, or else I’ll completely lose my grasp of the concept!” He shook his head vigorously, only further deteriorating the state of his hair.

He felt himself blushing just a little bit as he felt Melissa’s hands on his – they were so soft, and, oh, his were really rather rough, weren’t they, and that was no good at all! “F-first...um...” It was hard for him to think at first. Hands. Skin. Melissa. Her hair was a very pretty color.

Ow. Wait. Cut. Ow.

“Ah! I remember now. It’s in the bathroom, in the little, um...” He lost the word for a moment, and frustratedly attempted to explain the concept of its location. “The little space behind a door. That leads off from the room. You keep things in it?” Looking extraordinarily sheepish, he added, “I’ve, ah, a bit of...aphasia.”

Shaking that thought from his head, he added cheerfully, “Oh, yes, but the danger is what makes it so exciting!” and flashed her a dazzling (if slightly mad) grin.

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa couldn't help but to laugh a little. "You've got to savor them, though. I do believe I've figured out the perfect way of making them last for at least a week. You know, the chocolate chips still soft." Oh, she wouldn't mind having a cookie now... Perhaps she'd be more careful about bringing cookies over now, knowing that he'd had an incident of eating a bit too many.

Melissa followed his gaze to the window, unable to help herself. She imagined he was probably thinking something along the lines of what if the spider somehow managed to get back inside. Melissa looked back at him, a little amused by the idea and finding it quite endearing. "No, I don't imagine you would be." He was so kind, she couldn't see him harming a fly. "No, no. I understand. I'm the same with snakes," she shuddered. "Well... except for the whole legs thing. I mean... I can't stand them." Melissa laughed, feeling as if she hadn't even needed to explain.

Oh, how she wanted to brush his hair. Melissa jumped, somehow surprised at his exclamation. Still, she smiled, glad that he understood. "Well, I hope it doesn't happen in the middle of the night too often." The look she gave him was concerned. "Everybody needs their eight hours of sleep." She was lucky it was the weekend now; any other night and she probably would have had trouble focusing at work.

Oliver seemed distracted somehow but she didn't mind waiting. She could be the very definition of patient. Now focused on the task at hand, Melissa carefully released his wrist and started off towards the bathroom -- or, well, where she thought the bathroom would be. Assuming the layout of his apartment was the same as hers might not have been the best idea. "It's fine, I know what you mean," she commented off-handedly, a bit distracted by her focus; otherwise she would have suggested a word.

Finding the bathroom, she went in search of the first aid kit. "Could you clear off a spot at the table, or somewhere? Just be careful with that cut." She felt the need to exaggerate because most people hardly took her seriously when it came to injuries.

[OLIVER QUINN]

Happily stuffing a delicious cookie into his mouth, Oliver’s eyes practically rolled back into his head in delight. “You are a goddess,” he said honestly, the words spilling from his mouth before he could think of how embarrassed he was about to be. “A goddess of cookies. A cookie goddess. That has to exist. There has to be some word for that in Greek or Latin or—”

And then he realized he was rambling and turned remarkably red. “Er. Right. You. Know what I mean.”

What if the spider did get back inside? Oh, sweet mother of Planck, what if it was a female and it had laid eggs all over the inside of his precious toolbox?! No, no, no, he could not allow that to happen, because then there would be an infestation and they would crawl all over him in the night and bite him and then he would die. Die!

He shivered to himself, trying to keep his mind off it while also making a mental note to check the entire house for arachnid egg cases ASAP.

“Snakes? Yes, they’re also a common…um…word…” He tilted his head. “You know, er. Something that causes your heart to speed up and not in a good way and—well, heh, here I am, a scientist, and I can’t explain something scientifically.” Turning redder, he scratched the back of his head. “Um. Yeah.”

“Eight hours? But that’s so much!” Oliver’s eyes widened like he was shocked that anyone in the world slept that long. Of course, he was a bit of an insomniac, seeing as he was always staying up all night working on new projects, so it was unsurprising he didn’t know. “I could be spending four of those hours doing something productive, like deciphering a way to increase fuel efficiency in a space shuttle! Do most people really sleep that long?” His expression was rather like a child’s, being told for the first time that the moon went round the Earth and didn’t just disappear and reappear at intervals.

Watching her leave the room and head for the bathroom, Oliver nodded, silently appreciating that she understood him without any awkward guessing games. He hated those.

“Right! Right. Spot on the table. I’ll be careful.” Of course, he was clumsy and would probably end up hurting himself anyway, but it was worth a go. He headed over to the kitchen table, which was covered with notes and the like, cleared it off as best he could, and sat down, waiting for Melissa to return.

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa laughed, blushing a bit. Sure, she’d been complimented on her cooking before. However, it was never anything quite like a goddess. He was being too kind. There were chefs out there that could probably do a much better job than she did. It took her a moment before she finally said, “well, thank you.” There wasn’t much else you could say when receiving a compliment. “I think that’s the best review I’ve ever received on a batch of cookies.” Melissa added, practically glowing with pride.

The apartment would need cleaning up as well… Melissa realized it a bit suddenly and she knew now that it would have to be done before she left. Oliver’s apartment was probably dangerous enough as was with all his tools and inventions lying about. It couldn’t have been any safer with broken pottery all over the floor. She stepped carefully, not quite sure how well her slippers would protect her feet. “Fear?” Melissa suggested, picking up his phone and checking it for a moment before handing it to him. “You should probably be more careful with that,” she said teasingly.

Melissa’s eyes widened as well and the fact that they both seemed surprised made her laugh. She couldn’t imagine getting any less and here he was, thinking the complete opposite. “Eight is what’s recommended.” However, she could understand only getting four hours if one could really run on that. Melissa shrugged, “I doubt high school and college students sleep that long.” And Oliver, it would seem, she thought, making a note of that. Melissa smiled, finding him suddenly endearing. “I wonder how much more you’d get done if you had the energy from those extra four hours.”

It didn’t take her long to find the first aid kit. She sincerely hoped he had been careful. She didn’t want the cut getting any worse. Then again, how bad could it have gotten if something had happened? It seemed common sense that one would be careful when dealing with an injury. Melissa returned, pleased to see that the table was a bit cleared off and that he seemed fine. Melissa sat down, setting the first aid kit on the table. “So what was this million dollar idea of yours, if you don’t mind my asking?” Melissa inquired, again carefully taking his wrist in her hand and examining the cut, finding the light to be much better in here.

[OLIVER QUINN]

Melissa’s obvious pleasure at his compliment only made Oliver’s smile widen dramatically. “Y-you’re welcome!” he piped up rather excitedly, everything about him seeming to glow with happiness. Just being around Melissa tended to have that effect on him, let alone when she was happy, let alone when she was happy because of something he said. Him! He was the most clumsy man in the world with words!

Watching her careful steps, he paused, confused, before looking around and suddenly realizing that the place was a mess. “Oh! Oh, my God, I am so sorry, this place is, er...w-well, it’s really messy, I’m sorry, I should’ve, uh...kept it tidier...didn’t exactly expect you to be coming over at this hour, um...” He looked around the room, setting aside the remotely-cleared-off kitchen table, and frowned at the conditions. Papers everywhere, half-eaten food, tools, screws, nuts and bolts and blueprints. “Uhhh,” he mumbled, and hurriedly tried with his mind to straighten it all out, with little success.

“Careful?” he said, abruptly turning in the direction of her voice and smacking his good hand on the table. He bit his lip to suppress a groan of pain. “Oh. Yes. Probably. And fear! Yes, that’s the word, thank you.” He got up from the table and approached her, taking the phone carefully. “Um. Thank you,” he said again, lost for words as he went to sit down again.

He did seem alarmed by how much sleep normal people seemed to get, though, and his always-wide eyes grew even wider. “Wow, that’s so much!” he said, looking down as if considering. “So people are really supposed to sleep that long...huh. Well, anyway, I’ve always had too much energy, always too much for one day.” He smiled, realizing he was talking to himself but not minding.

Though Oliver was never very good at being careful, it did seem that he’d managed to keep his cut from getting much worse – though, it seemed, at the cost of his other hand, which he had just smacked so ruthlessly against the table by accident.

He extended his hand to her as she reached forward to take it, finding his skin tingled pleasantly when her fingers touched him. “Um,” he said dumbly, momentarily distracted as he tried to place the sensation. “What? Oh! My idea. Right. Well. You know how it’s horribly hard for librarians to transport large amounts of books from one shelf to the other at one time? Well, I was thinking, what if there were a cart, like a wheelbarrow, with shelves in it? That way, the books would all stay nice and neat and could be transported safely, and more per load! Not to mention no more staggering about with huge stacks of books in your arms.” He grinned at her, eyes gleaming, almost like a child waiting for approval.

[MELISSA HEWITT]

Melissa couldn't stop smiling now and she almost felt silly for letting a compliment affect her so. Biting her lower lip gently, she went back to what she'd been doing, focusing on the tasks at hand. Tidy up his apartment, take care of the cut on his hand, and maybe double check for spiders anywhere else they may be hiding.

She shook her head quickly, hoping to make it clear that she didn't mind. "It's quite alright, dear!" She insisted, having seen rooms much messier than this before. Melissa did grow up with a younger brother after all and, more often than not, she cleaned his room for him. Just because she couldn't stand seeing the mess everytime she walked by and the door was open. "This is nothing compared to some rooms I've seen."

Besides, there were interesthing things to be found in Oliver's apartment. Half-finished inventions, tools of all sorts, plans yet to be started. It was quite fascinating, actually. Melissa winced when his hand came down on the table and she made a mental note to check that one as well. She grinned, still honestly surprised that he found eight hours to be a lot of sleep. "Yes, when there are so many more things to be done, I suppose it would be a lot of wasted time..."

Too much energy. She had students in her office that couldn't sit still they had so much energy. "Maybe you can come over to my apartment and bake with me sometime," she suggested, curious as to how well he worked in the kitchen. "You could get a lot done with all that extra energy." It was a good thing she was more calm and collected because otherwise, she wouldn't be able to focus on taking care of this cut.

Melissa dug through the first aid kit as quietly as she could so he could answer her without worrying about being drowned out. First aid kits were surprisingly noisy -- or she thought so, anyway. "Book carts?" She said, remembering the last time she'd been to the library. Didn't they have those already? Setting out what she'd need to handle the cut, Melissa set to work. "I... well..." She tilted her head and bit the inside of her cheek, thinking.

Hydrogren peroxide... Neosporin, maybe... Bandaids? No. Gauze? One or the other. "Don't they have book carts?" She finally asked, gently as she could, so as not to seem disapproving. It really was a marvelous idea and if Oliver had been just a bit sooner, librarians everywhere could've been thanking him. Still, she was sure he'd become famous sooner than later with one of his ideas.

[OLIVER QUINN]

Oliver seemed a bit relieved at Melissa's dismissal of the messiness of his apartment. For some reason, he had this irrational desire to impress her, and this was certainly NOT the way to go about it! What did he think he was doing, calling her up at Science-knew-when in the morning and having her come all the way over here to get rid of a spider? A sure-fire way to win over a pretty woman, hah. He was such a joke.

She would probably never see him as more than a child. And for some reason, that upset him.

"Oh, well, good," he said, but a little bit of the mirth had gone out of his voice. His smile was a bit weaker. Oliver had never been very good at hiding his emotions, he always had so many to express at the same time.

Still, her smile made him smile, so he couldn't help perking up a little bit as the conversation continued. "Well, exactly! I always have a project going on. Or otherwise, I'm working on...actual work. Not that my inventions aren't important! But building rockets is, well...my job. My legitimate job, that is. So it's important to...you know...do it." He sounded so silly, didn't he? Oh, now that he was coming to his senses, how absolutely embarrassed he felt about the whole situation! What was he doing?!

"B-but anyway, now that NASA's not sending up any more shuttles, I don't know what kind of work I'm going to be doing," he noted, trying to sound more...business-like...or something. He didn't know what he was trying to do. He just liked talking to Melissa. "Maybe rovers. Mars rovers. I like those. Wouldn't mind designing a Mars rover. Or a probe. Hm."

At the concept of baking with Melissa, his smile seemed to brighten by about 100 watts. "Oh! Oh, that'd be...splendid! I'd love to bake with you," he said excitedly. "I mean...I'm terrible at it, I can hardly cook for myself...always burning things, isn't that funny? I can build a rocket but I can't cook an omelet...a-anyway." His face turned a little pink, but he smiled his way through it. "I'd love to." Realizing he was repeating himself, he just blushed harder.

However, his expression changed to confusion and then disappointment as she spoke of these...'book carts'...which apparently already existed. His shoulders sank.

"Oh. Of course. Right. Book carts. Well, I guess it wasn't that great of an idea, anyway."