Chapter 2 - Bridget
After more slow days of setup and preparation, we were ready for the first batch of Omega mesenchymal stem cell samples. They were arriving frozen from a biobank in Canada. The distance wasn’t ideal, but we’d make it work.
On delivery day, I arrived at the lab early to run calibrations, prepare mediums, and do final temp checks before the samples arrived.
Not to be outdone, Nathan had arrived even earlier.
I saw him working in the lab as I beeped through the door, and a wave of annoyance washed over me. Did it truly matter that I wasn’t the first in the lab? I tried to tell myself it didn’t as I seethed all the way down the corridor to the office, shedding my jacket and bag along the way.
I stopped short. A silver electric kettle sat on my desk — an expensive one with multiple temperature options — along with a box of tea and a handwritten card that said, “You can borrow it if you’d like.”
My stomach leapt, torn between embarrassment and a spike of surprised pleasure. The thought of Nathan picking out the kettle made my face burn. He’d even taken the time to stick a small blue bow on it, like a present.
I stood paralyzed for a few moments. On the one hand, I really wanted a cup of tea. Nathan had bought high-quality tea bags, the sachet kind I never splurged on for myself. I inspected the tin box, opened it, and took a whiff of the rich blend.
But would accepting be some kind of capitulation?
I took another inhale of the tea, and greed won out. I brewed two cups, one for myself and one for Nathan. Once I’d pulled my hair into a ponytail, I headed into the lab.
Nathan looked up as I entered and pulled out his headphones. He was wearing more casual clothing — a dark gray henley and jeans — and I heard someone talking before he paused whatever he’d been listening to. Probably some insufferable podcast.
“I brought you some tea,” I said, pushing his mug across the countertop.
He looked a bit confused. “Thank you. But you know that’s for you, right?”
I flushed. “Oh. Um. Yes. Thank you.”
A faint blush washed across Nathan’s cheeks, and I felt bad. Clearly, he was as uncomfortable with these kinds of things as I was.
“What needs to be done before the delivery?” I asked, returning us to even ground. Nathan launched into a to-do list, and we worked together without conversation. The tea was as lovely as I’d suspected it would be.
“You don’t need to dress so formally,” he said abruptly after about fifteen minutes.
I froze. I’d been pulling at the collar of my shirt, another ill-fitting, itchy button-up; a variant of the “professional lady” starter pack I’d bought in bulk online. “What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to impress anyone,” he said, gesturing around the lab as if to show we were the only ones there.
My face burned again, and a mixture of shame and righteous anger boiled in my stomach. “So you think I’m trying to impress you?”
He looked briefly horrified. “No, I just meant…” He exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up, making eye contact with the wall behind me. “I was trying to say, you can dress however you feel comfortable.”
“And I look uncomfortable now?” I asked, still annoyed. I was incredibly uncomfortable and would have much preferred to be in one of my oversized cardigans, but I didn’t want to admit that to him. The thought that even Nathan Manalo could tell how awkward I felt was mortifying.
He was definitely blushing, too. Good.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I remember… You dressed more casually in the university lab, and you can do that here, too,” he said in a rush.
“Good to know.” I took another sip of tea and prayed Anvi would show up soon. Her energy was good at dispelling awkwardness.
Anvi and Lisbeth arrived at the same time. As if to prove Nathan’s point, both were wearing jeans, and my embarrassment tripled.
“Today’s the day,” Lisbeth trilled. “I’ve been working on getting a local supply of samples, so hopefully this will be the only time we’re working with frozen donor material.”
“Who’s making the delivery?” Nathan asked, standing to greet them.
“Courier,” Lisbeth said and checked her phone. “They should be here any minute.”
As soon as possible, I escaped the prep lab, got dressed in my PPE, and started the cleanroom preparations.
I’d already set the water bath to the correct temperature to thaw the samples, and I made sure the medium was pre-warmed.
With my back to the shared wall of the prep lab, I pretended I was alone, that it was just me and the humming equipment.
No large, rude Alphas making cutting observations about my style choices. I’d let him handle the paperwork.
“Special delivery,” Anvi called, entering the cleanroom. She was carrying a small box that was giving off a fine smoke from the dry ice. Nestled inside was a round, bright blue container I knew carried the precious vials.
We worked quickly, wiping down each of the twenty vials with ethanol before they went into the water bath.
“Have you ever thawed cell material before?” I asked.
“No,” Anvi breathed, as if she was worried speaking too loud might disturb the cells.
“Okay, then watch me closely and I’ll explain the process.”
Anvi and I monitored the vials as they thawed. As soon as possible, we wiped them again with ethanol before I took them to the biosafety cabinet. I settled in front of it and took a breath. I needed to have steady hands.
“We have to remove the DMSO before we can plate them,” I said, then decanted each vial into a sterile tube already filled with pre-warmed medium.
“DMSO?” Anvi asked.
I finished the last sample. “It’s a cryoprotectant. It keeps the cells safe during the freezing process, but it’ll inhibit growth. Wanna help me run the centrifuge?”
Anvi and I spun down each sample to separate the DMSO, then we disinfected the vials yet again to plate the cell pellets in fresh culture medium.
“We have to be extra careful to pipette them gently.” I piped the first sample into its culture plate. “The freezing process makes the cells more vulnerable to damage.”
“Totally,” Anvi said. She hunched down slightly to watch my movements in the biosafety cabinet better.
I got into a rhythm, relishing the repetitive motions. This kind of lab work, the kind where I could completely zone out and just follow muscle memory, was my favorite. I plated the last sample with relish. “And done. Now we transfer them to the incubator.”
I turned to look at Anvi and saw Nathan. He was standing a few feet behind her, watching us with his arms crossed.
His expression was as intense as usual, and I faltered a little under his disapproving gaze before I regathered my confidence. If he didn’t like the way I did something, he could just do it himself next time.
“Uh, can you double check the incubator temp and humidity?” I asked, refocusing on Anvi. I ignored Nathan completely as I carried the sample rack and slid it into the incubator tray. After I ensured each plate’s label was correct and initialed the log, I shut the door.
“That’s it?” Anvi asked.
“For now,” Nathan said before I could respond. “We’ll need to check for attachment in a couple of hours. Anvi, you can work with me on that.”
My chest burned at the implied slight, but I didn’t say anything.
“For now, please put the dry ice under the fume hood,” Nathan continued. Anvi gratefully stripped out of her PPE, leaving us alone. I started cleaning up the sterile equipment, and to my surprise, Nathan joined me.
I should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. “I’m perfectly capable of doing morphology checks,” I said with my hands full of vials. I sounded petulant and regretted it immediately.
Nathan looked at me sharply. “Of course. I thought you’d like a break from the cleanroom. You’ve been in here for a few hours.”
Had it been that long? Time always passed quickly in the lab. “Oh. That’s… considerate.”
Nathan held out the autoclave bag for me, and I gingerly deposited the glassware inside. “You sound surprised. I told you I’d try to be nicer.”
I had no idea how to respond, so I just sealed the bag. His eyes behind the safety glasses looked almost… playful? That couldn’t be right.
“Well. Thanks,” I said, my hands still on top of the autoclave bag as he held it.
Nathan cleared his throat. “I’ll take care of this. Good work today.” He stepped around me. I escaped to the anteroom and away from his baffling behavior.
The cells survived their trip from Canada and were proliferating well.
“I’ll take the first weekend shift,” Nathan said on Friday afternoon as we finished work for the day. The three of us had developed a good routine, and Anvi was becoming more and more confident working with the cells under Nathan’s or my supervision.
“Ooh, thanks. See ya Monday,” Anvi said brightly before scampering out down the hallway.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll take next weekend.”
Nathan slid his coat on. It was a navy blue peacoat that suited his broad shoulders. I’d embraced the casual dress code after one more day of polyester discomfort. My ancient black puffer coat covered my oversized Fairview University sweatshirt.
“I don’t mind covering weekends,” he said, watching me gather my stuff. Was he waiting for me to leave?
We walked down the corridor together and out into the hallway. “Me neither. It’s not like I have a ton going on,” I said dryly. The clinic was quiet; the last patient was long gone. It was almost 6 p.m.
As we stepped into the elevator, I took a deep breath, my stomach twisting with dread. The ride would be over before I knew it.
“That’s surprising,” Nathan said, distracting me.
I looked up at him, my brow furrowed. “What? Why?”
Nathan looked flustered. “Oh, I don’t know. I just thought… I thought your pack would want to spend time with you.”
I burst out laughing. “My pack? You think I have a pack?”
Nathan’s face was so red I worried he was having some kind of aneurysm. “Well, yes, obviously.”
“Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh.” I schooled my features into a professional expression. “Can I ask why?”
Nathan had his lips clamped shut, like he was afraid of what might come out if he let them open. I thought I detected that hint of his scent I’d caught before: earthy and smoky, but tempered by something sharper. “I assumed that you wouldn’t be working in a lab if you were unbonded.”
Ah, that actually made sense. And my lack of a normal Omega-grade scent would only have strengthened that hypothesis. Briefly, I wondered where he thought my bond marks would have been if not on my neck, before I dragged my mind away from that terrifying precipice.
“Do you have a problem with that?” I asked, trying not to sound too defensive. Some Alphas did, the kind that thought Omegas were better suited for housework and raising children. If Nathan was one of those Alphas, I needed to know.
“Of course not,” he said, sounding offended. He sighed. “This conversation has not gone the way I intended.”
“I’m guessing your pack is fine with you working on the weekends since you’re an Alpha,” I said with a hint of annoyance. The elevator doors opened, and I sighed in relief.
Nathan shook his head. “I don’t have a pack either. I live with a roommate whom I’m always eager to escape.”
Interesting. Dr. Manalo seemed like he’d be the leader of a pack of fellow scientists with a sweet, homebody Omega who made sure all the geniuses remembered to eat. I couldn’t imagine Nathan living with a roommate. That was so pedestrian.
“Well, it seems like we won’t have any issues with weekend shifts, then.” I looked outside. The sky was gray and dark with sleet. I suppressed a sigh. The train would be a slippery mess.
“Will you be okay getting home?” Nathan asked. We’d paused at the threshold of the building, his hand on the door handle.
“Yes, of course.” Did he think Omegas melted in the rain?
He looked at the sky, then back at me. “Are you sure? We could share a cab. Which way are you heading?”
“I’ll take the train,” I said. “I’m going to a friend’s house for dinner.”
Nathan studied me for a moment. “Okay. Have a good weekend, Bridget.”
He left me in the lobby and I watched the sleet beading on his dark hair and coat. I shook my head, then texted Maggie to let her know I was on my way for our celebratory dinner.