I Swear This Is About Science! p.1
pairing: abby anderson x reader
word count: 3.3k words
summary: The trials and tribulations of an overworked master's student with complicated feelings towards their hot classmate, Abby, who they are totally normal about and not at all weird towards.
tags: college/uni au, fluff, slowburn, unresolved tension, bit cringe ngl, people in stem
a/n: I wrote this ages ago and posted it on ao3 and then died off. I plan to continue it so I decided why not make it my first post on this blog. Welcome to my humble abode!
You woke up to the sound of your alarm with a gasp, your hand flailing around in the dark as you tried to find your phone on the nightstand. You finally made contact with the vibrating object of your current ire, squinting at the blinding light emanating from your screen as you tried your best to press the right button to silence your alarm.
It was 5:00 in the morning, the devil himself wasn’t awake yet, but waking up at diabolical hours was part of the grad student package. With a groan, you tore yourself away from the comforting warmth of your bed to start your daily routine.
You moved throughout your apartment whilst getting ready with half-open eyes, your brain still foggy with sleep. You hurriedly grabbed the first articles of clothing you could find, not caring about coordinating colours or styles. Your body knew what to do; you were pretty much on autopilot until it came time in your commute to switch to your second train, only then would you start to be more alert.
You were a creature of habit. You found comfort in the predictability of your daily routine, from your commute to your daily coffee order. It gave you a sense of calm and stability in a chaotic time in your life.
You mumbled a quick “morning” to the barista as you zoomed past to grab your mobile order and made your way upstairs to your lab. You zoned out during the elevator ride, short as it was, taking occasional sips from your drink. A familiar ding rang, prompting you to exit the elevator and make your way to the massive door separating your laboratory from the rest of the science department. You stood in front of the locked door, staring up at the sheer intimidating size of it.
You’ve been a master's student for 5 months now, and you had hoped that with the experiences you've had so far that a sense of confidence would be instilled in you by now.
You were disappointed to report that you were, in fact, just as confused and as scared as when you first started.
You took five, deep, belly breaths, the last piece of your daily ritual. It was an attempt at calming your bubbling anxiety, and a prayer begging all the powers that be to have mercy on you and to let your experiments run with no problems.
With one big sigh, you scanned your access card and entered through the automated door.
You made a beeline for your desk in the lounge, quickly dropping your coffee and bag off. You pocketed your phone and grabbed your headphones, making your way towards the lab’s restricted access door.
With a quick scan, the automated door opened, allowing you access to the actual laboratory portion of the building. You speed walked towards your lab bench, mentally going through today’s experimental agenda, playing out the whole day in your head before you even start.
You grabbed your coat from your lab bench, threw it on and started buttoning it up mid walk towards the tissue culture room.
You made your way towards your favourite biosafety cabinet. You shouldn’t have a favourite, they all operate the same. But this one was close to the supply bench, so you didn’t need to get off your seat to grab extra pipettes or falcon tubes, plus it was by the window.
You took your phone out of your pocket and began reserving the cabinet in blocks corresponding to your incubation times. It was currently 7:45 am, and barely anyone was in the lab. You could get away with using the BSC without booking it, but you decided to go ahead and pre-book to avoid any timing issues. Better safe than sorry and all that.
By 9:00 am, you were done the first half of your experiment, you moved to stack your cell plates in your incubator, then turned back to your BSC to start cleaning up for the next person after you.
You surveyed the entire room and your cabinet one last time, making sure to check off your mental clean-up checklist. Satisfied, you disposed of your gloves and left the room, making your way back to your lab bench. You peeled off your lab coat and made your way through towards the door you came from.
You had a 3.5 hour incubation period, which meant you had 3.5 hours to kill on your laptop before you had to go back to your cell babies. You pressed the lab door’s push-to-open button and exited into the vestibule connecting to the lounge area.
You were lost in your thoughts, trying to decide whether to catch up with recently published papers or answer department emails, before you could even make up your mind a hulking figure filled your field of vision.
You stopped mere inches before colliding with them.
“Oh sor-” your panicked apology halted as you gazed up at the figure before you, only to see a familiar blonde braid and storm blue eyes staring right past you.
Without so much as a breath in your direction, Abby Anderson walked past you, scanning her access card smoothly. Your eyes followed her as she disappeared into the lab.
You stood there looking like a dumbass.
Sure, if you were to give her the benefit of the doubt, there was a chance she never saw you to begin with. With her intimidating frame towering over most people, she could have thought you were a part of the ground’s microbiota. But she walked around you, acknowledging the presence of an obstacle in her way.
She could have at least mumbled a quick “excuse me.”
Your eyebrows were furrowed as you continued towards your desk. It made no sense to you that you were this annoyed by such a minuscule interaction, nor should you really be surprised by Abby’s lack of response.
You were both in all the same classes for your bachelor's, which shouldn’t be surprising since you were in the same program, except this eerie thing kept happening where you were in the same exact tutorial and lab sections throughout all 4 years.
Every. Single. Time.
You were starting to think you were cursed when you showed up to the very first day of master's student seminars and found her sitting there, back turned to the world, chatting away with Manny Alvarez.
In all the 4 years you’ve been classmates, you seldom spoke to each other. If you had to make an educated guess, you might have said a dozen words collectively to one another, the majority being pleasantries mandated by social etiquette. Admittedly, you were not of the chatty variety, but you were not opposed to conversing with others either. People usually started the conversation, and you continued it or participated as you deemed fit. With Abby, however, that start was hard to achieve.
To be fair, you did not run in the same circles. You were focused purely on getting school over and done with, whereas she was more involved in extracurriculars, sports and the like. You were two different people, with very little in common outside of sharing a degree. It made sense that you hadn’t connected before, or at least that’s what you told yourself every time you went about ignoring each other’s presence.
You sighed as you collapsed on your chair. You massaged your temples as you reminded yourself that this was entirely inconsequential and you had more important things to focus on than your lack of camaraderie with Abigail Anderson.
You opened up your laptop, turned your headphones on, and got to work.
---
Your phone vibrated at 12:30 pm, the alarm you had set for your incubation period had gone off. You stretched in your chair, your whole body hurt from sitting for too long. You managed to accomplish reading the abstract and half the intro of one single paper, and replied to 2.5 emails (the 0.5 is an email sitting in your drafts waiting to be sent).
All in all, a great session.
You silenced your phone, then quickly pocketed it as you made your way towards the restricted access door to the lab, repeating the same trip from this morning towards the tissue culture room.
You had just finished buttoning up your lab coat when you looked up to find someone still sitting in your biosafety the biosafety cabinet you booked. Broad shoulders and a distinct braid came into view. You blinked before taking several quiet steps back out of the room.
Fuck.
Why was she still working? You had this cabinet booked for…now. You could give her an extra 10 minutes to finish up, but your cells were incubating in a drug with a fairly specific incubation time. You were worried about inducing cell death if you prolonged their stay in it. You poked your head back in the room to see if there was another cabinet either of you could relocate to, and found them all in use.
You took a deep breath in; it was time to kick Abby out of your BSC.
You walked over, trying to project as much laid-back confidence as you possibly could. You hated doing this when people were in the middle of working, but you had to put your project first. If anything, she had to time her work properly.
You stood right behind her, clearing your throat.
She did not budge.
“Abby, I have the cabinet booked.” You said, voice as steady as you can make it.
Abby reached to grab a sample from the left side of the cabinet and kept working.
You blinked. She had to be joking.
“Abby. I need the cabinet now.” You repeated a little louder, irritation lacing your voice.
Still nothing.
“ABBY.” You would consider this yelling at this point.
“Wh-” She turned around, startled. It was only then that you noticed she had earbuds in. You were still annoyed regardless. She looked up at you, blinking in confusion, then looked back at the cabinet, realizing that you had it booked after her.
“Oh, sorry, one second.” She took her hands out of the BSC and sprayed her gloved hands with ethanol. She then discarded her gloves and moved to take her earbuds off, placing them in their case and pocketing them in her lab coat.
She stared up at you from her chair, as though she was waiting for you to speak. You let out an exasperated sigh.
“I have this BSC booked. My cells are in treatment, I need to take them out now.” You stated blankly.
“Oh. I see… I’m mid-procedure now. I kind of underestimated how much time I needed. Can I have 30 minutes?” Abby asked earnestly, which bothered you. Because your response to her was going to make you sound like an asshole, which could have been avoided had she properly accounted for how much time she needed and the BSC booking schedule.
She infuriated you so much while doing so very little.
“Can’t. They’re going to die if I incubate them in this drug any longer. I need the cabinet now, please.” You were stern with your response. You tried to be as accommodating as you could most of the time, but you were not a doormat, and you had a hard line drawn in the sand when it came to your work.
“Oh. Uh… are there any free cabinets either of us can use?” Another earnest question.
To which you responded by looking at her like she grew 3 heads. She turned to the rest of the room and realized why.
“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t notice. Alright, uh… what exactly did you need to do?” She trained her gaze back onto yours. She always made sure to look you in the eyes when she spoke, which you’re not at all used to from her. It made you shiver a little.
You stared at her, unsure of where she was going with this. Was she going to debate you on who had priority? You sighed before replying.
“I need to aspirate the drug out and add media, then incubate. That’s it.”
“Okay. Go warm up your media bottle, and I’ll move my flasks into the incubator. I’ll finish up after you add your media, that okay?” She tilted her head ever so slightly.
Your body instantly flushed with shame and another emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
She was trying to find a way to accommodate the both of you. Not only that, but she was giving you priority over herself. Which she should anyway, since according to the booking schedule, you were the priority.
But she was so kind about it, and that made you feel guilty. For a second there, you forgot she was an exhausted student like you were. Time probably slipped her by, or something in the procedure probably gave her grief, causing her to take longer than she intended.
You looked down in shame, finding it difficult to lock eyes with her stormy blues. You struggled to get the next words out of your mouth at an audible volume.
“I’ll be quick…” You muttered.
“Don’t rush on my account.” Her voice was reassuring as she turned towards the supply bench and grabbed a new pair of gloves to put on.
You turned to the fridge in the back of the room to grab your media bottle. You placed it gently in the water bath to warm up. You stared at the bottle in silence, attempting to mentally heat it with your intense gaze. You pulled the bottle out and cupped the bottom, feeling for its temperature.
Alas, you were not an undiscovered X-Man.
You placed the bottle back in the water bath, then promptly shed your gloves. You pulled out your phone and started tapping away. You figured you could do one nice thing for her today, and hope that this made you even.
“Ready when you are,” Abby called out.
You looked up at her, then quickly pocketed your phone and slipped a fresh pair of gloves on. You picked up your media bottle and cell plates and moved towards the BSC. Abby stood up, letting you have the seat while she stood close by waiting for you. Her eyes were trained on your side as you sprayed your media bottle and the bottom of your plate down with ethanol before placing them inside the cabinet. You felt heat rise in your neck as you sensed her gaze on you.
You turned on the aspirator, just about to start your procedure, when you cursed at yourself.
You forgot your sterile tips.
“I forgot my tips-”
“Just use mine.” Abby offered rather quickly.
“Are you sure?” You turned to look at her, a touch of worry laced your features.
“Yeah, I have plenty back at my bench. Don’t sweat it.”
You muttered a quick ‘thank you’ before turning back to the task at hand. You still felt her gaze on you, and for reasons unbeknownst to you, it made you shiver. Your hands shook slightly as you worked, and part of you wondered if she noticed because you could see from your periphery that she took her phone out and busied herself tapping away.
You took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly before you continued your work, feeling a touch more stable in your movements this time.
You were done in 10 minutes flat. You screwed your media bottle shut and moved it out of the cabinet along with your plate of cells, spraying both down with ethanol before moving to spray the little area you worked in with ethanol as well to ensure you don’t contaminate Abby’s work with your own.
“Alright. All yours.” You said as you picked up your stuff.
“Thanks. Oh- shoot, I better book it this time so I don’t cause problems-”
“Don’t bother. I extended my booking so you can use it for 30 more minutes. Just make sure you pack up before Jen’s booking, she’s-” You stopped in your tracks, trying to come up with gentler descriptors for Abby’s stiff lab mate.
“Strict." You decided to leave it at that. Elaborating further would have gotten you in trouble.
Abby snorted at your take on her lab mate.
“That’s one way to put it…” She muttered, mostly to herself. She looked straight into your eyes like she did before, “Hey… thanks. For the booking.”
“No problem… Um. Thanks for…” Your words failed you when she trained her gaze on you. You settled for vaguely gesturing in the air and hoping she got the point.
You’re usually more articulate than this.
“No problem. See you around?” She gave you a small smile, which made you feel like you were being run over by Ford F150. Which is strange because as far as you were concerned, it was a friendly smile.
“Yeah.” You gave her a short nod, not really looking at her. You turned to leave, and she turned back to her work.
You quickly stashed your media bottle in the fridge and shoved your plates in the incubator, then practically ran out of the room.
---
It was 2:00 pm when you threw yourself into the chair at your desk. You had spent the last two hours doing inventory and catching up on your lab duties. You sighed deeply, eyes closed as you set your head down on your table.
You felt something crunch beneath your forehead as you made contact with the cold surface. You lifted your head in confusion, only to find a pale yellow sticky note stuck to your desk, which bore neat and clean handwriting.
It read:
“Sorry for the trouble today - A.A”
As soon as you read its contents, you hear a familiar laugh echo through the lounge area. You peeked quietly behind your desk and saw the author of your note, throwing her head back, laughing at something Manny said.
You found yourself staring at her. You noticed the bands of gold hair that escaped her braid and how they framed her face, and the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed, the soft wrinkle in her eyes— in this light, she was not the intimidating figure you were acquainted with in the past.
Perhaps she never was.
You snapped out of your thoughts when you noticed her looking back at you. You did what any normal, well-adjusted human would in that moment.
You ducked and hid behind your desk.
“Fuck.” You hissed.
A very normal response.
You tried to pat your chest with the palm of your hand in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
It’s fine, this was most likely the only time the two of you would ever interact anyway. Soon enough, you’d fall back into the comfortable routine of ignoring one another as you had for the past 4 years, and you were perfectly content with that.
Right?
---
“You waiting for something?” Manny asked as he tried to follow the direction of Abby’s gaze.
“Hm.. What?” She snapped out of whatever trance she was, looking back at her friend.
“Are you pouting?” He was confused, his eyes turned back in the direction of the office desks, trying to figure out what Abby was looking at.
“Am not. Come on, I’m hungry.” She walked past Many, headed towards the exit before he could inquire any further.
“The tips of your ears are red-” ”Shut up Manny.”