I walked slowly down the dark basement hallway, slightly creeped out to be there alone, and unsure of exactly what I'd find. After hours of searching the library catalog for sources for my research project, it seemed that virtually everything I was interested in was to be found in 'Special Collections', wherever that was. After a little checking around, it turned out that meant I'd be making my way to the basement and working with a librarian named John. Geez, how big a nerd must he be! Oh well, it was all worth it - this was going to be a killer project once I finished it.
In contrast to the dark, slightly musty nature of the rest of the basement, his office actually turned out to be quite pleasant. "Just a second, I'll be right there," was his greeting from another room as I opened the door and stepped inside. I took a moment to look around. The concrete walls were decorated with historic photographs of the campus and old posters from campus events occurring decades before.
"Thanks for your patience," came the voice from behind me, "how can I help you?"
I turned to see a quite attractive, but oddly dressed man - I guess I was right about the nerd thing. He was about 6'2", with close-cropped brown hair and stubble to match, and striking blue eyes, with a strong handshake and nice smile to match. But he was sporting that look found so often around college campuses: a dress shirt and jacket with jeans and sneakers. And in his case, a pocket protector just added to the image.
"Yes, um, I was hoping to look at these," handing over the list of architectural drawings and historic photographs I was hoping to reference.
"OK, not a problem. It will take a little digging, but I'm sure I can get all of these things for you fairly quickly. So, you are a...?"
Guessing that he was asking a typical question, I jumped in, "Junior. In architecture."
"Great, nice to see you down here - I'm always surprised more of your fellow students aren't interested in seeing things from this collection. Now, let's see, just follow me."
He led me out of the office and back into the dark hallway. We made a few turns, and then stopped in front of a locked door while he searched for the right key on an overburdened chain. "The earliest photographs should be in this room here, one of my many hidey-holes."
I chuckled to myself, surprised at his use of the term. But of course, he couldn't know. I curled a ringlet of my long blonde hair around my finger as he talked, something I often did when I was slightly nervous.
"This material really deserves to be in a space where it can be viewed properly, you know, with tables, chairs, and good lighting? But they just keep bringing me more boxes to store down here, with no new space, no support, and no budget. So my hidey-holes will have to do for now!"
With a few folders and small boxes in our arms, we made our way to a different hallway, to another locked door, undoubtedly another 'hidey-hole'? Yup. This time a chuckle escaped audibly.
"I'm sure all these hidey-holes seem a bit weird to you, but I assure you, it's the best way to keep things safe. Can you believe it - a collection like this one," as he pointed out one of the architectural drawings I'd asked for, "buried in the basement, when it should be on display upstairs!"
"Oh, I'm not laughing at you - in fact, I admire your passion for what you do. It's just your term, hidey-holes, that made me giggle."
"Hmm, why's that?"
"Well, see, my name's Heidi. And, well, never mind." I blushed. What was it about this nerdy librarian I'd just met that made me think I could possibly share the story?
"No, what is it?"
"Well, it's just that people have always teased about my name. My first week on campus as a freshman, it was "Hidey ho!" everywhere I went. I smiled and went about my business, but..."
"Yes?" He took a break from digging out obscure documents to look into my eyes.
"Well, let's just say, I had a bit too much to drink at a frat party that year, some people made some assumptions about what happened when I went into a bedroom with a couple of guys, and, well, 'Heidi ho' took on a new meaning."
"Ah, I see." I couldn't tell by his smirk whether he thought I was a stupid kid, whether he was intrigued, or disgusted, or whether he was just being civil until he could get me out of his precious basement full of hidey-holes.
"Of course, I don't deserve the label. I'm really quite a serious student. Um, not to say that I'm completely innocent, but..." I blushed again. I was in way over my head. Time to shut up.
"I'm sure you are just innocent enough, without taking it too far," he said, winking. I smiled, relieved that one of us, at least, was able to carry on the conversation without becoming a babbling basketcase.
"So, John, how did you get into this kind of work?"
"Well, I've been a librarian ever since finishing my Master's about 15 years ago, and just gradually moved towards special collections because of my interest in history and, frankly, because nobody else wanted to deal with the hassle of this job. But hey, it's more than worth it, let me show you this..."
He had led me into yet another hidey-hole, this one a long, skinny room beneath a stairway above. We had to duck to get through the door, but once inside, it was really quite large, with a table and chairs at one end, and one wall lined with flat-file cabinets. He pulled out a few of the documents, spread them out on the table, and my eyes grew large as I saw what they were. This was the collection of a world-famous architect who had grown up in this little college town, and when he passed away, left all of his papers to the university library. I knew they existed, but it was different to actually see them with my own eyes.
"Wow, this is amazing! Thanks so much for showing me these!"
"No problem, that's my job, sharing what's in my hidey-holes with eager young students like yourself." He playfully elbowed me, poking fun now that he knew my name.
I playfully shoved him in return, and his hand grazed the side of my breast as he threw his hands up, pretending to defend himself against my punches. I was surprised at my reaction - I blushed again, but I wasn't offended, or even embarrassed. I was turned on. I don't know what it was - the intimacy of being in the small, confined space with an attractive older man? The fact that I had opened up enough to share the silly joke with him about my name? The fact that it had been a little too long... well, let's not go there.
Whatever came over me, I toyed with the idea of testing how far our banter could take us. The first thought that came into my head was way too embarrassing - "Now that you've shown me your hidey-holes, can I show you my Heidi holes?" Come on, I'm sure I can be more subtle than that. Let's see. Hmm... As I thought, pretending to look at the drawings, I could feel his eyes moving over my body, watching my breasts as I leaned over the table, ogling my long legs.
Pretending to become interested in a small detail on the drawing in front of me, but really to test how far he'd go, I leaned over a bit further, placing my elbows on the table and spreading my legs a bit. He quickly shifted his weight and folded his hands over his crotch, obviously trying to cover up a growing situation. OK, here goes.
