Jan 1st, 2081
The first light of dawn spilled through the cafeteria's tall windows, stretching from waist height nearly to the low ceiling, painting the room with long, delicate shadows that seemed to stretch and yawn as the new day began. The space, nestled within a cluster of quaint cottages connected by makeshift passageways in the shadow of the ancient castle they called home, retained a rustic charm despite its scientific purpose. The morning air was thick with the remnants of last night’s festivities—a blend of lingering alcohol, stale conversations, and the subtle aroma of unattended dishes.
Richard and Pooka sat across from each other at a modest metal table, remnants of their revelry evident in their disheveled appearances. Pooka’s usually immaculate hair was tousled, her eyeliner smudged, while Richard’s shirt hung untucked, the top button rebelliously undone. The castle’s stone walls, adorned with ivy and centuries-old tapestries, provided a stark contrast to the modern, utilitarian furnishings of the cafeteria.
Richard seldom drank, especially since his immortality had tethered him more to discipline than indulgence. The BioNano system, seamlessly integrated into his physiology, rendered alcohol consumption more of a hassle than a pleasure, disrupting his meticulously maintained equilibrium. Yet, New Year’s Eve had been an exception—a rare lapse in his usual restraint, fueled by the recent heartbreak of his breakup with Brenda. The emotional turmoil had pushed him to seek solace in the party’s chaotic embrace, leading to choices he now regretted.
As the night wore on, the alcohol began to erode his control, the BioNano system momentarily overwhelmed by his increased intake. He found himself navigating the precarious balance between intoxication and his inherent self-control, a dangerous dance for someone so accustomed to unwavering discipline. Though the BioNano worked tirelessly to purge the excess, the shadows of his unguarded actions lingered.
Pooka sat beside him, her presence a silent testament to the previous night’s entanglements. She adjusted her attire subtly, the gesture both a comfort and a reminder of their shared experience. Richard had hoped to endure her company without confrontation, but as dawn approached, it became clear that avoidance was futile.
With a sigh, Richard rose and extended his hand to Pooka. She accepted it with a knowing smirk, and together they made their way to the coffee station, navigating through the quiet cafeteria where the remnants of the party were slowly being tidied away. They settled at a secluded table, the only sounds the faint hum of the castle’s early morning activity and the soft clink of their paper cups.
Richard took a tentative sip of the bitter, lukewarm coffee, grimacing as it touched his tongue. “This stuff has actually managed to be worse than usual,” he muttered, setting the cup down with a heavy thud.
Pooka smirked, her fingers tracing the rim of her own cup absentmindedly. “Serves you right for making a pass at me.”
He glanced at her, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “I remember someone leading me into the closet and then kissing me back.”
Rolling her eyes, Pooka responded with a hint of amusement, “I plead guilty to horrible judgment on account of alcohol poisoning. Most importantly, when you fondled my boob, I came to my senses and put a stop to things.”
Richard chuckled, the sound tinged with embarrassment as he scratched the back of his neck. “It's not like BioNano wasn't cleaning your blood, too. I doubt it was just alcohol in there by the time you backed away."
Pooka leaned back, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "First, I'm half your weight, if that. Even with technology, drink still hits me harder. Also, I consume it more often than you do; I know how to maintain that buzz. I know it's a tough concept for you Westerners," she gestured dismissively at the sterile, modern décor of the cafeteria, a stark contrast to the ancient stone archway marking the start of the cobblestone path to the castle proper, "but I dress like this for looking, not for touching. But you can keep that memory of your stolen grope."
He held up his hands in a placating gesture, still smiling. "If you had just waited a minute, I'd have the memory of tasting them too,” he half-joked, more intent on diffusing the tension than making a genuine remark.
Unfazed, Pooka shot back, “You and half the camp.”
The ambiguity of her response left Richard momentarily silent, his mind racing to decipher her meaning. The casualness in her tone made him question whether she was being serious or merely deflecting. After a moment of contemplation, he decided to let the matter rest, recognizing the delicate balance they needed to maintain.
He ignored the enigmatic comment and decided to defend his own position, adding, "I was drunk, this beautiful woman was kissing me and they are very nice. I'm just saying I was drunk. I know they aren't for touching unless invited to do so."
She said nothing. Her facial expression and body language did not change. The silence hung in the air until Richard felt the irresistible need to fill it. Leaning forward, his demeanor shifted to a more serious tone. “Now that the BioNano has cleaned the alcohol out of our systems, where do we stand now?”
Pooka’s gaze grew distant as she considered his question. “Now we can use logic. I am still Brenda’s closest friend...”
Richard interjected, attempting to lighten the mood. “It’s funny the number of people who say that,” he remarked, aware of others who shared the same sentiment.
She dismissed his comment, her tone resolute. “You are Brenda’s recent ex. Loyalty is very important to Thais. What happened is already a huge transgression. I have no intention of compounding it.”
"She's also your boss. Surely that figures into things."
"I never thought of her as my boss. We are cooperative scientists. Though it is her estate...," Pooka trailed off for a minute, "No, that's not a factor; we are a team. I could take you on this table in front of her, and she may stop talking to me, but she would still work with me."
Richard was momentarily lost in the mental image of her taking him on this table. Then he shook those thoughts from his head. Skepticism laced his voice as he probed further. “So we just go back to business as usual?”
Pooka chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “So, you don’t believe that men and women can just be friends?”
Raising an eyebrow, Richard responded with mockery. “I’m not going to speak for my entire gender. But for myself, I can only be friends with a woman if I know there’s no sexual chemistry. Until that question is answered, a large part of my brain will be wrestling with finding out.”
Leaning forward, Pooka narrowed her eyes playfully. “So you can only be platonic friends with women you’ve already screwed and have no desire to repeat the experience?”
His smile widened, revealing a hint of teeth. “I wouldn’t put it so crudely, but... yeah, I find no flaw in your summation.”
Taking another sip of her coffee, Pooka winced slightly. “So, every time you meet a woman, your first instinct is to figure out if you want to sleep with her?”
Tilting his head, Richard maintained steady eye contact. “Isn’t that biology? We’re wired to assess potential mates. It doesn’t mean I act on it, but the thought is there.”
Her grin turned sly. “And what happens when you find that chemistry? Does everything else go out the window?”
Meeting her gaze directly, Richard replied, “It complicates things, sure. But I’ve learned to compartmentalize. It’s about recognizing the line and respecting it.”
With an arched eyebrow, Pooka responded thoughtfully. “So, you’re saying you have this incredible self-control? Or are you just good at convincing yourself that the line’s not worth crossing?”
His smirk softened, though his eyes remained sharp. “Maybe a bit of both. But what about you? Do you think men and women can just be friends?”
She paused, her expression unusually serious. “I think it depends on the man. Some are worth the effort of friendship. Others... well, let’s just say I’m not interested in answering that chemistry question for them.”
Richard laughed, the sound echoing softly in the nearly empty cafeteria. “Fair enough.”
The conversation waned, both of them sipping their coffee in a comfortable silence. Outside, the castle grounds began to stir with the first activities of the new year, oblivious to the lingering tension at their secluded table. The ancient stone walls, a silent witness to countless stories, now enclosed their quiet discourse.
Pooka leaned back, a faint smile gracing her lips. “So now that we've established a lack of chemistry, we can agree to just being friends. And let's go a step further—agree that this never happened, so we never need to talk about it again and certainly never mention it to Brenda.”
Richard smirked, leaning in slightly. “Well, I can’t say I felt the lack of chemistry you’re claiming. But I did get an answer to the nagging question of what those puppies you always leave so alluringly on display feel like. I’m a simple man; that will do for me.”
Pooka rolled her eyes and adjusted her attire but didn’t interrupt, allowing him to continue.
“And I have no wish to hurt Brenda,” Richard added, his tone softening. “We both know she’s the only reason I’m still standing, so I agree—this never happened.”
Nodding, Pooka’s expression grew more serious. “Good. Then we’re on the same page. Let’s keep it that way.”
Raising his coffee cup in a mock toast, Richard concluded, “To selective amnesia and staying out of trouble.”
Pooka clinked her paper cup against his, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through. “To being good friends... to everyone.”