The next few days were a flurry of activity of a different kind. They had to clean up the mess as best they could, and treat those who had been affected. Most of the staff at Jodrell Bank remembered nothing, which at least made the excuse of a gas leak vaguely plausible. For those who did remember, they had to rely in explanations of hallucinations and fugue states. The fact that nobody had actually seen anything obviously alien helped, and they were able to successfully keep the press away from those who might have led them to put two and two together.
In the end, Denzel had been the only casualty, a sad reminder of how much worse it might have been. "The only one to get killed is the black guy," Richard had muttered to Rebecca at one point, "how's that for old-style sci-fi?"
Liam, Emma, and Lucy had attended the funeral, of course, which Room 42 knew because they were still keeping a discrete eye on Emma. The other two were apparently an item now, seemingly with no clue as to how close they had come to being victims themselves. Emma, fortunately, seemed to be recovering as well as might be expected, although she'd probably take the longest to heal.
The technician who had attacked them outside the control room recovered quickly, perhaps because he had been under control for such a short time. He seemed to remember very little, and soon returned to his work. Raina, after a short time convalescing, left the country, and became the responsibility of the Polish authorities, although there was little for them to do, and she seemed disinclined to talk anyway.
Georgina, once she had woken up and been told the little that she could be, insisted on going to see Marcus, and spent a lot of time by his bed. They seemed to bond over their shared experience, and, once they were both better, went back to London where they spent a lot of time in each others' rooms at the University. So perhaps they had got something good out of the experience.
Rebecca kept her nose down, burying herself in the scientific reports about the incident. Which, for her, was easy, letting her forget about the outside world as she became engrossed in the data and speculation. At the same time, of course, she was conscious that she was avoiding the more personal side of what had happened, and putting off that talk with Kate. Personal stuff, emotional stuff -- she had to admit that she'd always been bad at that.
Bloody stereotypical scientist. Marcus Freeman didn't seem to have a problem, so why should she?
But it wasn't a conversation that she could put off forever.
***
In the end, Rebecca made the first move, finally summoning up the courage to ring Kate and ask her to come round to her flat in the evening. She spent much of the afternoon trying to decide what to wear, how to look. Should she dress up? She did have a few dresses, after all, even if she rarely wore them. But if so, which one? Classy? Casual?
She gave in, and didn't change out of her usual clothes. And then, when the doorbell rang, she panicked, and realised it was too late to change her mind. She looked in the mirror, hoping that she looked acceptable, touching up her hair, although, honestly, it wasn't going to make any difference at this point. Yeah, a lanky geek in jeans and an open check shirt over a T-shirt with a TARDIS on it. She'd blown that one.
"Hi," she said, opening the door, and really trying too hard to appear casual, "come on in."
"Thanks, Rebecca," said Kate, smiling. God, that was a nice smile. No makeup, either, just a pure, natural look, which made her feel better about not using any herself. And those eyes... that pure blue! "I hope you don't mind," the officer went on, removing her coat to reveal a uniform underneath, "but I came straight from the Ministry."
It wasn't the same uniform as she had been wearing when they had first met, but a more formal one, with khaki jacket over shirt and tie, a knee-length skirt and one of those military belts supported by an extra strap running diagonally over the right shoulder. A shoulder that also had a dark blue strip of braided cloth running around it, for no particular reason that Rebecca could see other than that was the sort of thing army officers wore.
Kate looked so smart and formal! And there was she, in jeans and a Doctor Who T-shirt...
"So..." she said once they were in the front room, and then trailed off, "um, did you...?"
"You first."
"Right. I thought we should... um... Oh, look, I really don't know how to do this... how to say this... whatever... it's all new, and, and... uh..."
"We kissed."
"Yes, yes, we did."
"Did you like it?"
"Yes...?" she said, a little uncertainly, and then, seeing no negative response from Kate, repeated herself with greater confidence, "yes, I did."
"So did I. It was unexpected, I'll give you that, but it was nice."
"Yes, well... but you're..." she waved her hands, not sure of the words to use.
"A lesbian. It's an acceptable word, these days."
"Right."
"Whereas you're straight."
