Pro tip: if you put googly eyes on your lab equipment your work environment will be more whimsical. However, be warned: you’ll feel a lot more guilty swearing at the HPLC when it’s staring back at you looking all innocent and sweet.
Exam season has begun. Do I need to say more? I redecorated my study space a bit, because the heater next to my desk was removed (it didn’t work anyway). It’s clean and nice. But I’m still waiting for the motivation to kick in. Lab is stressful. Last Friday I worked 10 hours. 10 hours!? I really like this lab and my supervisor is amazing but I’m still glad when it’s over. I have an interview for my next semester internship position. They have a chill vibe from what I can tell from the mails. Let’s see how this plays out.
I’m counting the days to my vacation. Luckily I have the whole September off. And I will do nothing but going on vacation, sleeping in, having coffee for every breakfast, knitting a whole bunch and not think about uni. At all.
What can I say, we needed a photo of the main man in the story (sry, it took me so long to finally do so). I was actually trying to find a good photo of him in clothes similar to the ones he wears in RE4R (as it fits the plot of this part), but was unable to. Instead you get this lovely piece of work. Just appreciate the arm muscle.
Wesker is late for work. A highly unusual occurrence considering he arriver no later than an hour early every day. So why today?
SFW
Word count: 3123
You look up and immediately notice how dischevelled he looks, additionally he is late. Well, by Wesker's standards.
Usually, he looks pristine when he walks into the office. His clothes always look like he just finished ironing them. Whether that be a shirt, a normal sweater, his trousers, a tie. You suspect he even irons his socks out. You've never asked though.
His clothes do not look like that now.
From head to toe he looks like, well he looks like a normal person, better even, but it's Wesker, so something isn't right.
His right shoe has a small scuff on it, the bottom of his trouser legs are dirty, his shirt is slightly wrinkled and he has pulled the sleeves up, his forearm on display.
You stare for a moment too long, admiring the muscle you never really have a chance to see, typically covered by the lab coat he wears. Snapping out of your thoughts you continue to look over his appearance. Along with the wrinkles in the shirt, he isn't wearing a tie, the top button left undone. On purpose or accident, you aren't sure yet.
The last thing is his hair.
Most days, actually every day he has it slicked back. Not enough product to make it look greasy, just enough to make it look sleek, in a tasteful way. It still resembles his usual hair, only it has a few pieces sticking out here and there.
Again, by any normal person's standards he still looks good, really good actually, but not his usual self.
"What happened?" You ask while standing up, concern lacing your tone.
Wesker sighs, putting his briefcase down beside his desk, its usual place. "Car crash," he replies before raising his hand to stop you from interrupting. "I wasn't in the crash, but I was there at the scene, so I had to help out."
He sits down and you walk over, concern still painting your face.
"What happened, was everyone okay? Are you okay? Should I get you something?" You ask as you check him over again, attempting to spot any injuries you might have missed at first glance.
He breathes out an amused chuckle, a brief smile adorning his face at your concern. "It all ended well, no one was injured, just shaken up, and I am fine, unharmed," he motions to himself, making it clear he has no injuries.
You want to protest, tell him to take a second to breathe before he starts his work, but he is already up and ready to go.
Picking up his lab coat he pulls his shirt sleeves over his arms, much to your disappointment.
Before he makes his way to the lab you stop him, hand on his shoulder. A sudden moment of bravery washing over you.
His eyebrow raises in questioning before you reach up with your free hand, raking through his hair, pushing that one stubborn strand back. You avoid looking at his eyes through his glasses, focusing on the task at hand. "There, now you can go," you say, patting his shoulder, signalling your work is done.
He stares for a moment, adjusting his sleeves again before seemingly snapping out of the trance. Thanking you he leaves, making his way down the hall.
Once you are sure he has left, you slump down in your chair, letting out a breath of air you weren’t aware you were holding in.
"So how is work going?" Jane asks, taking a seat opposite you in the booth.
Yesterday she had asked if you wanted to accompany her to lunch, wanting to try out a new restaurant that had opened in town a few weeks back. You had agreed, telling her you would find a spot and she would come after finishing up her duties.
"It's going fine, the licker project we are currently working on should be finished within next week. That is if things go to plan, you know how things can go," you reply, handing her a menu across the table.
So far the restaurant seemed nice. The staff were welcoming and kind, having shown you to a nice spot by the window. You appreciated it, being able to people watch as you had waited for Jane.
She glances at the menu, skimming through the various lunch options. "I think I might have the club sandwich, what about you?" Her eyes find yours as she folds her menu together and places it in its stand.
You mirror her actions, placing it in front of hers. "I think I'll have the same. Someone ordered it when I first walked in and it looked really good."
You both talk for a moment longer before a waitress comes over, notepad in hand, ready to take your order. "What can I get you ladies?" She asks after you finish your sentence, a bright smile on her face.
"I will have an ice tea," Jane replies, then motions for you to give your drink order.
"The same for me, and for lunch we will each have the club sandwich," you add, giving Jane a quick glance, waiting for her confirmation. She nods and looks at the waitress as she hurriedly scribbles your order down.
"Will that be all?" The girl asks, looking up from the paper, ready to step away from the table.
"That is all," you reply kindly.
"Hope it won't take long, I'm starving." Jane mutters as the waitress leaves.
You smile, almost laugh before replying. "I'm sure you will manage Jane."
"So, what else is new at work? I saw Wesker was late today, you know why?" She asks curiously, tapping her fingers on the table impatiently.
Leaning back into the booth you reply as Jane waits intently for your answer. "He said there was some car crash and he had to help out, he said everyone was fine, just shaken up." You can tell she is about to reply but the waitress comes over at the same time, carrying an ice tea in each hand.
She places them on the table, one in front of you, the other beside Jane. You both thank her in turn and wait for her to leave once again.
"Good, it wasn't serious." Then she laughs under her breath.
You smile, wanting to know what's so funny. "What?"
She stirs the ice around her glass before replying, a subtle smirk plastered on her face. "I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if he showed up to the office like that more often though."
Your brown raises, not entirely sure what she means. You take a sip before replying. "What do you mean?"
"Oh come on, you can't tell me you didn't find him particularly attractive with his hair ruffled like that, and his arms, does he work out?"
"Jane, you are married!" You scold her teasingly before giving your own answer. "He seems to live in the lab for most of the week, so I'm not sure when he has the time for workouts."
It's silent for a moment before Jane speaks up again. "You still didn't say what you think."
"Think of what?" You say, playing a bit dumb.
"Of Wesker."
"I think he is my co-worker."
"That you find attractive and that you like?" She prompts, giving you a look.
"Maybe a bit?" You mutter, trying to avoid her gaze, looking over to what you assume is the kitchen door.
"I knew it!" Jane exclaims excitedly.
"How?"
"When Miss Tricell was over, you were so jealous it was crazy."
"I was not!" You defend loudly, then remember you are in a public place. "I was not," you repeat, more quiet this time.
Jane just rolls her eyes at your reply, already having made her mind up. "Yeah yeah, anyway, what are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing..."
"No, come on, you would work out so well together." She pouts, taking another sip of her ice tea.
"Jane, honestly, I am not planning on doing anything about it because we are co-workers and friends. He trusts me a lot, and I trust him a lot. I don't want to break that trust, it took a while to build."
"But he likes you," she counters, emphasising with her hand.
"He told you that?" You ask, puzzled as to how she would even know that.
"No, but I've seen how he looks at you, and how he talks to you. That back and forth banter you do, I mean seriously."
You just shrug, not wanting to believe her words just yet. "We're both sarcastic people, what can I say?"
"He's worked at Umbrella for the whole time I've been here and I've never seen him like that, honestly."
"Jane please," you plead, then notice the food is on its way over.
The waitress smiles at you both, placing the plates on the table. "Here are the club sandwiches, hope it all tastes good," she adds before leaving you to eat.
"He does like you though, he is absolutely smitten with you." Jane says, circling back to what you were talking about.
"Yet he doesn't say anything," you counter, taking a bite of your food. It tastes absolutely amazing compared to the food offered at Umbrella. You make a mental note to come back here.
Jane clears her throat, ready to get her point across. "Ehem, saving you from the Umbrella facility, spending seven hours waiting for you to wake up, begging you to not take the Tricell job, and not to mention how he knew you were jealous about Estella. I think that is his way of saying he cares about you.”
You just huff, placing your sandwich down. However, Jane already has something to add.
"Just give him a chance and see what happens."
There is no point in arguing with Jane anymore. She has her mind set on this, so the only option is to accept it and leave it. "Fine, but no promises okay?"
"Perfect," Jane replies, seemingly happy to get you to agree.
And that is that. The rest of the lunch is spent talking about other things. Or so you would like to think. Your mind seems to drift back to the conversation. Was it just Jane saying these things, or had she made you realise that there really was something going on.
"Didn't want to spend lunch with me?" Wesker asks as you walk in.
It takes you by surprise, his forwardness. It makes you think of the things Jane had said, but you shake your head, not wanting to get ahead of yourself, or let her words dictate what you do. Instead you just shake your head as you smile at his comment, knowing he is just joking.
"I spend my whole day with you," you counter, sitting by the lab table. Your sample is already prepared for you, probably his doing.
"And I enjoy that."
You turn your head, snapping to him. "You do?"
"I thought I made that clear?"
You just stare. You suppose it had been obvious, if he didn't enjoy spending time with you he wouldn't be doing it.
"I just figured we’re co-workers, friends, so it’s natural to spend time with you," you say, testing the waters.
"I don't tolerate just anyone," he mutters before going back to his work.
You smile to yourself before doing the same.
Continuing the titration you find one of them not working out quite like you had hoped.
You turn around, too abruptly for your own good, bumping straight into Wesker who happened to be doing the exact same thing. An unfortunate mistake that becomes more unfortunate once you realise he has spilled something all over your arm, soaking your lab sleeve.
He quickly places the glass vials to the side and grabs your other arm. As he walks you to the sink he tugs the soaked lab coat off, placing it somewhere on the floor.
"I'm so sorry, I should have been more careful," you apologise, letting him take the lead. "What was that anyway?"
"Wash that off now while I get something for it," he instructs, turning the tap on and pulling your arm under the stream. He sounds slightly worried.
"Albert, what was that?" You repeat, as you keep your arm in place under the freezing water.
Once again he ignores your question. Instead he makes his way to a small supply closet. You can hear him rummaging around, looking for something.
He returns just a moment later, placing two bottles on the tabletop and turning the tap off. "Dry your arm and let me see," he insists, handing you a towel.
You sit down on the chair behind you as you start to dry your arm. Tapping the towel into the skin you notice it's all red, raw and mottled, small blisters starting to form.
"It burns," you comment softly, attempting to hide the pain from him.
"Give it here," Wesker whispers, an attempt to calm you.
He reaches his hand out, holding your arm softly, as carefully as possible. Then he takes the pre soaked cotton wool and begins dabbing it into the skin on your arm.
"What is that?" You ask, whincing in pain.
His focus is on the task at hand, watching your arm instead of your expression. "A blend of hydrofluoric acid with a stimulant I have been testing."
The sting increases, and you can't help but exclaim out in pain, retracting your arm from his hold. "Ouch, that really hurts, it burns."
He looks at you, concerned, but also confused. "It shouldn't hurt that much, that should have helped."
"Well it does," you snap. You don't intend to be so harsh, but it really is painful, and the blistering seems to be getting worse.
Instead of continuing with the hydrofluoric acid, he picks up another bottle, soaking another cotton round with its liquid.
You look at him sceptically, but present your arm to him anyway. "It's an alkali, so it should neutralise the effect of the acid I spilled, stay still," he encourages, but waits for your confirmation before continuing.
You nod, agreeing with his reasoning, it's not like it could be any worse, right?
He dabs at the wound and you flinch again, the pain even worse. "Ouch, ouch, no, that hurts even more," you exclaim, pulling your arm away again, tears gathering in your eyes from the pain.
He places the cotton down and moves over to the sink again, opening the tap and waiting for it to turn cold again.
"Try the water again, it seemed to work out the best." He seems defeated, not sure what to do anymore.
You nod before standing up and stepping over to the sink. Then you place your arm back under the stream and you feel instant relief from the cold, that is before it starts burning again.
"Burns?" Wesker asks, placing his glasses on top of his head, as if to get a better look at you.
Your vision is blurry from the remaining tears, they haven't fallen, they just linger on your lashline. "Yes, but not as bad as the other things."
He nods and takes a step closer, his own hand finding yours under the stream of constant water. He runs his finger along the skin, getting a feel for the uneven texture of the blistering.
You grimace, but it hurts less than it did a few minutes ago.
"I think that's fine, my arm will go numb with the cold," you mutter and he abides, turning the tap off and leading you back to the table with the supplies he brought out.
Again you have to dry your arm, this time he does it for you. Gently tapping the soft cotton of the towel on the blistering skin. "Okay?" He asks softly, catching your gaze, making sure he isn't hurting you.
"Okay," you confirm as you wipe your eyes with your free hand. "How does it look?"
Wesker waits for a moment before replying, his movements stilling. "Red and annoyed, but better, the blistering is going down." He carries a sincere expression when you open your eyes to look at him.
"I'm sorry." he mutters as he lets go of your arm. Then he turns around, picking up the various bottles he had pulled out for your injury.
You turn around on your chair, following his movements. "Why?"
His movements still for a moment. "You got hurt because of me, I should have been more careful." He seems genuinely upset.
"So should I," you counter, smiling at him kindly.
Shaking his head he picks up a bottle and starts walking back to the supply closet. "I don't like when you are hurt." It's a quiet confession, hesitant even.
"Like at the hospital?" You question while looking at your arm, the blistering is practically gone. The magic of Umbrella you suppose.
He returns a moment later, striding over to the chair in front of you, taking a seat. Instead of answering right away he simply takes hold of your wrist and runs his other hand along your arm, a shiver running through you at the contact.
"Yes, like at the hospital," he finally answers, looking at you intently. His eyes are so blue, so intense to look at.
Simply breathing you just watch, looking from his eyes, and when that gets too much, at his hand that strokes your arm.
"How does it feel now? The blistering is practically gone," he observes as he continues to run his fingers up and down your arm. It's honestly just a bit red now, like a light sunburn.
Exhaling softly you reply. "It does, it feels better, yes."
"Good, do you want me to wrap it or just leave it?" He questions, letting your arm go.
You mourn the contact but don't dwell on it.
"I think it will be best to just leave it, I'm not too keen on aggravating it again."
He accepts your answer, taking the glasses off his head and putting them on. "Very well, you go ahead to the office and I will sort out your titrations."
"No, it's fine, I can do it, really."
"I insist," he counters, already standing in your way, preventing you from getting back to your station.
"Fine then, I'll do your paperwork, a fair trade I think."
He nods and waits for you to leave.
You hesitate for a moment before taking a step closer to him.
"Thank you for taking care of me," you whisper, standing on your toes and placing a quick kiss to his jaw. An additional thank you.
You don't have time to see his reaction. You're already turning around and leaving, cheeks flushed and a smile plastered on your face.
Chapter 8 should be released a bit quicker than this part did, but only time can tell.
Next part
I have to be honest and say that this part took me forever to write. I had things planned out, but then those plans did NOT want to be written. Like it worked in my head but not in writing. So I ended up with about 5 slightly different drafts and I wasn't happy with any of them. I just had to try out something different, which I think is why it turned out a bit dialogue heavy in certain places.
Hey guys, It's me Secret Pie. You all know I am a silly little artist and a Pie, but did you know I am also an entomologist?
After spending a grueling amount of time job hunting, I landed a great job at the United States Department of Agriculture. I got through onboarding and everything--but...then the federal hiring freeze yoinked that away. I made moving plans and now I'm on the backfoot and my life has been thrown into disarray.
If you work in a lab that does entomology/agricultural work or knows someone who does and your lab could use another technician or researcher, I will email you my resume.
I am not even kidding.
I have a masters degree, I am very punctual, and I can work in the lab or the field. I will move anywhere and will move immediately.
Reblogs appreciated.
(Entomology/ecology job hunting advice would also be very appreciated)
This is an onion skin sample I made for class, it's not that pretty because it didn't dry well, so you can see the water under the coverslip, but you can still see the cells and the nucleus inside the cells (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
