Arthur picked up his wrench, whistling a tune to himself. "Right. Who wants to see how a differential works?"
"Me! Can I get greasy?" Tilly asked.
"Only if I get to use the torque wrench," Emily said, rolling up her sleeves.
Sebastian leaned against the doorframe, watching three people huddle around an old engine, and felt something in his chest settle that he couldn't entirely name.
❦
The guest room was dark that night, smelling of sex and cooling sweat, the sheets kicked to the bottom of the bed. Emily lay on her stomach, her face buried in the pillow, her bare back exposed to the moonlight, catching her breath.
Sebastian sat on the floor, leaning back against the bed frame, rummaging through his discarded jeans. He found the crumpled pack. Flick. The lighter flared, illuminating his bare chest and the sharp line of his jaw. He inhaled deeply, head tipping back, blowing a stream of smoke into the shadows.
Emily turned her head. She watched him, her eyes heavy, dark, and focused.
"I'm starting to get addicted to that smell."
"It's a filthy habit," Sebastian said, glancing back at her.
She reached out, touching his shoulder. "I wasn't talking about the tobacco."
Sebastian smirked. He took another drag, eyes scanning the room for somewhere to ash, and spotted a half empty glass of water on the nightstand, flicking the ash into it.
"I'm leaving tomorrow, Seb."
The smirk vanished from Sebastian's face. He didn't look around. He stared at the glowing embers of the cigarette.
"Henry?"
"Yes. And the driver is coming at seven AM."
Sebastian checked the vintage watch on his wrist. "It's nearly three."
"I know."
She crawled to the edge of the bed, right behind him. "So we have four hours before I have to go back to being a Baker." She wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder, her skin hot against his cool back. "I don't want to spend them sleeping."
Sebastian froze. The cigarette burned in his fingers. He looked at the smoke curling up, then at the woman clinging to him. It wasn't a difficult choice. He dropped the lit cigarette into the water glass. Hiss. The fire died instantly.
He turned around, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her off the bed and onto him.
"Good," he said, his voice low and rough. "Because I wasn't planning on letting you sleep anyway."
He kissed her hard, biting her lower lip. Emily gasped, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, desperate to make every second count.
❦
Jessica's house in the London suburbs was pristine and modern, artificial grass stretching across the lawn, a shiny SUV parked in the driveway, the complete opposite of the Cotswolds cottage. Sebastian's car pulled up, looking dusty and out of place against the manicured surroundings. He got out, looking tired, the holiday glow already fading, replaced by the grey reality of home. He opened the back door and Tilly hopped out, clutching Mr. Fluff.
The front door opened. Jessica stepped out, looking pale, wearing loose loungewear. Behind her stood Brad, thirty five, fit, wearing a polo shirt, looking like a Golden Retriever in human form.
"Mummy! Brad!" Tilly called, running to them. Brad scooped her up easily.
"There she is! The explorer returns."
Jessica forced a smile, leaning in to kiss Tilly's cheek. She flinched slightly as she grabbed Tilly's arm.
"Ouch, careful, sweetie." She pulled Tilly's sleeve up. "Sebastian, what is this?"
Revealed on Tilly's forearm was a bruise, not huge, but distinctly purple.
"She fell off a log," Sebastian said, unloading the suitcase. "It's just a bruise, Jess. She didn't even cry."
Jessica frowned, rubbing the spot. "You need to watch her better. You know she's clumsy. She could have hit her head."
"She was fine. We were having fun."
"Fun is fine, Sebastian. Negligence isn't."
Brad put a hand on Jessica's shoulder, sensing the tension. "She's alright, babe. Kids bounce. Right, Tills? Let's get your bag inside."
Brad took the suitcase from Sebastian with a friendly nod and herded Tilly inside. Sebastian stood by his car. He looked at Jessica. She was leaning against the doorframe, taking deep breaths, one hand resting on her stomach, her skin waxy.
"You look... tired. Are you okay?"
Jessica waved a hand dismissively. "I'm fine. Just nauseous."
"Flu?"
Jessica looked at him. A beat of hesitation. "No. Not the flu." She managed a weak smile. "I'm pregnant."
The world stopped for a second. The ambient noise of the suburbs seemed to fade out entirely. Sebastian stared at her.
A memory surfaced unbidden, Jessica's voice from years ago. I can't do it again, Seb. One is enough. My career, your career. We just can't have another one. Not now. Not ever.
Sebastian blinked. The irony tasted like ash in his mouth. She hadn't wanted another child. She had simply never wanted another child with him.
He forced the corners of his mouth up. It was the hardest thing he'd done all week.
"Wow. That's... congratulations, Jess. Really."
Jessica softened. "Thanks. Brad is over the moon. Although Tilly is demanding a sister."
"Right. Of course."
Jessica shivered slightly. "I need to go lie down. Drive safe, Seb."
"Yeah. Take care of yourself."
Jessica turned and walked into the warm, well lit house. The door closed with a solid, final thud.
Sebastian stood alone on the driveway, looking at his own empty hands, then at the closed door. Inside, there was a family growing, a family he used to think was his, now reshaped perfectly without him. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket, got into the car, started the engine, and didn't look back as he drove away.
❦
Sebastian walked down the sterile corridor of the Cambridge University lab, looking tired, the holiday glow entirely gone, replaced by his usual armour of a sharp suit and a colder expression. He opened the door to the lab, expecting silence.
Instead he found Henderson leaning against a filing cabinet, holding a coffee cup. Sitting in the leather chair was Emily. She wore a sharp pencil skirt, a silk blouse, her usual glasses, looking professional but incredibly sexy. She spun the chair slightly as he entered.
"Henderson."
"Ah! How was the countryside? Did you hug a tree?"
"What is this?" Sebastian said, his eyes fixed on Emily.
"This is your new Research Associate," Henderson said. "She turned down a corner office at the Baker Group to come here and scrub test tubes for you. Can you believe it?"
Sebastian walked into the room. He put his briefcase down on a side table. He didn't look surprised.
"I didn't think she'd actually sign it."
He walked toward the desk. Emily didn't stand up. She crossed her legs slowly, reclaiming the space.
"I've warned her, Sebastian," Henderson said. "I told her you're a slave driver. You don't know when to stop."
"I push people until they break," Sebastian said, staring down at Emily. "Most can't handle the... pressure."
Emily met his gaze, unblinking. "Don't worry, Professor. I perform better when things get... rough."
Henderson chuckled, completely missing the heat in the room, gesturing around. "I've explained the hierarchy, Sebastian. She knows she'll be working directly under you. She's willing to start at the bottom. Do the grunt work."
"I have no problem with my position, sir," Emily said, locking eyes with Sebastian. "I find it... educational."
Sebastian's jaw tightened. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk, trapping her in the chair.
"We'll see how long you last," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "I expect total obedience. When I give an order, I expect things done."
"He's impossible to please!" Henderson said, laughing, oblivious.
"Oh, I don't know about that," Emily said, smirking. "I think I know exactly how to... satisfy the Professor."
The air in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Henderson checked his watch, slapping his thigh. "Right! I'll leave you two to... orientate. Don't scare her off on the first day, Seb."
Henderson winked and marched out the door. Click. The door closed. The sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway. The silence descended instantly.
Emily stood in front of the desk, the playful smirk still playing on her lips. She uncrossed her arms and took a step toward Sebastian.
"So... total obedience, huh?"
"You're playing a dangerous game, Emily."
Emily stared at him. She saw the vein pulsing in his neck. She saw his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Don't make it harder than it already is," he said.
Emily went quiet. Her expression hardened. Sebastian backed away. He picked up a thick stack of unorganized, dusty files from a shelf and slammed them onto the desk. Thud.
"Now. Sort these. Chronologically. Then cross reference them with the kinetic data from 2018."
Emily looked at the stack of boring paperwork. Then she looked at him. "Understood, Professor."
Sebastian watched her for a moment, a mixture of torture and admiration on his face. He walked to his computer and sat down.
"Get to work, Ms. Baker."
❦
The lecture hall was cavernous, amphitheater style, packed, a hundred students sitting in tiered rows typing on laptops. Sebastian stood at the podium, authoritative, articulate, intimidatingly sharp. Behind him, a massive screen displayed complex diagrams labeled Closed Loop Control Systems.
Emily stood to the side of the stage, in the shadows, serving as the Teaching Assistant for the day, managing the slide transitions from a laptop, watching him with a small, secret smile.
"In any feedback loop," Sebastian said, his amplified voice filling the hall, "the critical factor is stability. If the input signal is too aggressive, the system begins to oscillate." He paced the stage. "It loses equilibrium. The error margin grows until the entire mechanism destroys itself."
Suddenly, screech. A piercing feedback noise exploded from the speakers. Students covered their ears. Sebastian winced, tapping his clip on lapel microphone.
"Apologies," he said, frustrated. "Technology appears to be revolting today."
He fumbled with the battery pack clipped to his belt at the back of his waist, unable to reach it properly without taking his jacket off. Emily stepped out of the shadows.
"Allow me, Professor."
A ripple of whispers went through the front row. The new TA. So young. She's hot.
Sebastian froze as Emily walked onto the center stage. She stopped right in front of him. Too close. She reached around his waist to get to the battery pack on his belt. To the students, she was simply fixing a microphone. To Sebastian, she was embracing him.
"What are you doing?" he said, low, away from the mic.
"Fixing your input signal," Emily whispered, focused on his belt. "You're jamming the frequency."
She unclipped the pack. Her knuckles brushed against his lower back, right above his hip. Sebastian stopped breathing. He stared straight ahead at the students, trying to maintain a neutral expression.
"Hurry up," he said through gritted teeth. "They are watching."
"Let them watch."
She moved her hand up his chest to adjust the wire hidden under his lapel, smoothing her palm over his heart, pausing there for a microsecond. She looked up at him, her eyes dancing.
"Your heart rate is elevated, Professor," she whispered, barely audible.
"I am giving a lecture," Sebastian said, staring daggers at her. "It's adrenaline."
"Is it? Or is the system becoming unstable because I'm standing inside your personal space?"
She tugged the wire gently, a subtle, possessive yank. Sebastian's hands twitched at his sides. He wanted to grab her. He wanted to push her away. He could do neither.
"Fix the bloody mic, Emily."
"Done," she said cheerfully.
She stepped back, patting his chest professionally, then turned to the audience, raising her voice to be heard clearly.
"The Professor is all set. Please, continue... discussing instability."
She walked back to her corner, her hips swaying slightly more than strictly necessary. Sebastian stood there. He cleared his throat. He adjusted his tie, which suddenly felt too tight. He looked at the sea of students. Some of them were looking at Emily. Some were looking at him, sensing the strange energy in the room.
Sebastian took a deep breath.
"Right. Where were we?" He glanced at Emily one last time. "Chaos. We were discussing chaos."
He clicked the clicker. The slide changed. But his eyes lingered on her for a second too long before turning back to the screen.
❦
The lecture hall doors burst open, students flooding into the corridor in a cacophony of chatter and footsteps. Sebastian pushed through the crowd, heading for his office. He realized Emily wasn't behind him. He stopped and turned.
Ten yards back, Emily was surrounded. A group of three male students had cornered her, laughing, charmed by the cool new TA. In the center stood Liam, twenties, handsome, confident, looking at Emily like she was the only person in the room.
"I just didn't quite catch the part about the feedback loop," Liam said. "Maybe you could explain it to me? Over coffee?"
"I think the Professor covered it pretty well, Liam," Emily said, smiling politely.
"Yeah, but he's terrifying," Liam said, leaning closer. "You seem... approachable. Do you have an Instagram? Or a number? For 'academic emergencies'?"
Sebastian watched. He didn't storm over. He didn't frown. He walked over slowly, silently.
"Miss Baker." His voice sliced through the noise.
The group froze. Liam jumped slightly, straightening up.
"Professor Smith. We were just asking about..."
"I suggest you go to the library."
He turned his gaze to Emily. It was not a friendly look.
"My office. Now."
He didn't wait for an answer. He turned and walked away, calmly. Emily blinked at the students.
"Told you," she whispered to Liam. "Terrifying."
She hurried after Sebastian.
❦
Sebastian entered his office first. He walked to his desk, sat down, and immediately started reading a file, ignoring her completely. Emily stood by the door, sensing the drop in temperature. He spun around to face her.
"You didn't have to... he was just being friendly."
"He was wasting resources," Sebastian said, not looking up, turning a page. "And you were encouraging it."
"I was being polite. It's called social skills. You should try it sometime."
Sebastian finally looked up. "I didn't realize your job description included running a charity for desperate undergraduates."
Emily walked to the desk, leaning in. "Are you jealous, Professor?"
He looked at her hands resting on his desk. Then he stood up, slowly, and walked around the desk. He stopped right in front of her, but he didn't touch her, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.
"If you are bored, Miss Baker, just say so. I can find you something more stimulating than flirting with a twenty year old."
"Is that a threat, Professor?"
"It's a promise," he said, pulling back, fixing his tie.
He walked past her to the bookshelf, picking up a heavy, dusty binder, and held it out to her.
"Archive room. Basement level two. Digitize these records. All of them." A beat. "And close the door on your way out."
Emily took the binder. She looked at him. He was back to being the cold, distant Professor. But she had seen the fire in his eyes for that split second.
She smiled, hugging the binder to her chest.
"Yes, sir."
She turned and left. Sebastian waited until the door closed. He exhaled a long, shaky breath, leaning heavily against the bookshelf, closing his eyes, his composure finally cracking in the silence.
❦
Ten at night, the lab was quiet, save for the hum of servers and the scratching of a marker on a whiteboard. Emily stood at the board, erasing a complex equation Sebastian had written earlier, writing her own solution in red marker, aggressively.
Sebastian sat at his desk, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, watching her back. He looked exhausted but wired.
"You are destroying my algorithm."
"I'm optimizing it," Emily said, not looking back, writing fast. "Your loop was redundant. It takes three milliseconds too long to execute."
"It's called a safety buffer, Emily. It ensures stability."
She finished the equation with a sharp dot. "It's called fear."
She turned around, capping the marker with a loud click, leaning against the whiteboard, crossing her arms.
"My code removes the buffer. It's faster. Cleaner."
Sebastian stood up. He walked over to her. He studied the red numbers on the board, then looked at her.
"It's reckless. If the variable shifts even by a fraction, the whole system crashes."
"Only if you don't trust the variable," Emily said, smirking.
Sebastian stepped closer. He was now intimately close to her, the smell of rain and expensive cologne filling her senses. He placed one hand on the whiteboard, right next to her head, trapping her.
"You think you're smarter than me, don't you?"
Emily looked up at him. "In this specific instance? Yes. I think you're too rigid. You're so obsessed with control that you forget how to flow."
Sebastian's eyes darkened. He hated that she was right. And he loved it.
"Prove it."
He gestured to the terminal on the desk. "Run the simulation. If it crashes, you rewrite the entire codebase from scratch. Tonight."
"And if it works?"