Thread: It was just one... (Bevatoria and skittish_butterfly)

Really? It's not that he was surprised she didn't have time for it or at least said she didn't, but Grant was playing his part of the pushy boss, just as she was playing her role of the overworked and impatient student. Your work will be fine, Elizabeth, but I can promise this will be a night you'll never forget. Okay, maybe that was a bit far, and he didn't want to tip her off about anything. Well, I'm sure you'll enjoy it. She was already locked back into her work, and even without her looking at him Grant knew she wanted him to back off, so he did. Sometimes, she seemed to forget that he was her supervisor in this setting, even if he couldn't 'fire' her, and that grading based on how much he liked her 'bedside manner' was unethical, at best. He let out a huff as he walked away, wishing she wouldn't look at him as if he didn't know what he was doing. Of course he wouldn't contaminate her work. Personal dislike had nothing to do with his grudging respect for her as a scientist, and her academic record in general. Forty five minutes later, he was done, his results filed away, materials set aside for decontamination thank god for first year students , he idly thought to himself, his chemicals sealed and equipment to be tested and stored. His rubber gloves discarded, he made his way home. In his jacket, a small plastic bag was hidden, containing something that he wasn't supposed to have. Taking work home from the labs wasn't frowned upon persay, simply impossible because most homes did not have the type of equipment, facilities, or assistance that the University had bought and paid for. What Grant had there was from work, and technically work related, but only in that it would affect how he worked. And a certain someone he was working with. For many of the things Grant couldn't do in the house or so his last girlfriend had claimed, one of the things he could do was throw a party. He'd cleaned his house thoroughly the day before, the entire place tastefully decorated with subtle lighting, finger food and snacks carefully laid throughout for all to munch on. He'd made a habit of hosting an occasional get together, for academic and non-academic reasons, and tonight promised to be a little of both, if everything went to plan. There was an announcement, of course, one just big enough to justify everyone being here, but subtle enough to hold it at home. Still, others would be bringing drinks and wine. Graduate students weren't millionaires, after all, although in Grant's case he was certain it was just not yet . Grant had already set the timer on the oven, but still he kept sniffing the air. He'd made cookies before, but these ones were special. Ones that would be consumed by many, even if they were only intended for one person specifically. Everyone loved chocolate chip cookies, right? Even ones laced with bio additives tuned to a certain person's DNA. While mixing the batter, Grant was literally cooking with ingredients he'd never tasted before, and could finally understand that expression as he watched the cookies rise. He was a smart man, a proud man, but even he would be the first to admit he had no idea if this was going to work. It wasn't as if he could ask a colleague to help him field test it. The only tests he would do would be unwilling ones. The 'ding' of the oven sounded, and he pulled them out. They'd need a little time to cool, but cookies were always better warm anyways... Just as he'd put them on a plate, in a corner to be brought out when the time was right, the doorbell rang, and he hurried over it, ready to play the host as he opened the door. Ramona, Sheldon....welcome. Two of his colleagues, and he could already see a few more people on the steps. Soon, laughter and conversation boiled through the house, and even as he mingled between groups, he kept his eyes open for one person in particular...