Out of Time 01 - Out of Time

Blue’s luck is finally changin’.”
    Elizabeth grinned. “You old softie, you.”
    “Don’t let it get around,” he said with a wink and went back to work.
    By the time Charlie gave last call, it was almost three in the morning. He ushered out the last straggler, and she and Dix set about closing up for the night. It was a little past three-thirty by the time Elizabeth finished her chores, changed and said her goodnights.
    She stepped out of the smoky club and took a deep breath of the fresh night air. She was about to start down the street when she noticed Simon. He was leaning against a lamppost, his shirt sleeves rolled up, jacket hanging loosely over one forearm. Waiting, and looking damn sexy doing it.
    “What are you doing here?” she asked.
    Simon pushed himself upright and took a step toward her. “Waiting for you.”
    In the dim light, she couldn’t quite make out his expression, but his voice sent shivers up her spine. The good kind. She’d been anxious to tell him about King, but all thoughts of the gangster fled as Simon approached. Memories of how she’d felt when he came to apologize resurfaced: the racing of her pulse, the temptation to kiss him. The balmy night air seemed to grow that much warmer against her cheeks.
    “You’re flushed,” Simon said, as he drew nearer. “Are you all right?”
    “Fine. I just...You waited for me?”
    Simon shifted his jacket unnecessarily from one arm to the next. “I don’t like the idea of you out alone at this time of night.”
    He’d had far too long to think about things, to think about her. He’d tried to concentrate on creative ways to research time travel. The library, not surprisingly, was of little help. In his desperation, he’d even gone so far as considering tracking down H.G. Wells, who according to a recently published article was living somewhere in France. Perhaps his science fiction was as much thinly veiled truth as his grandfather’s work had been. But keeping the timeline intact forbade even that preposterous wild goose chase. Hours of work later, and with nothing to show for it, his mind drifted back to Elizabeth and the way she’d looked in the club, the way she’d looked at him. The way she was looking at him right now.
    He cleared his throat and attempted to clear his mind. “A respectable woman in this time would not be walking by herself. I’m only being practical.”
    “Right.”
    The blush on her cheeks faded, and her eyes seemed dark and troubled. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked.
    “Just a long night.”
    “Understandable,” he said. He gestured down the street with one hand, the other hovering behind her back, resisting the urge to touch her, if even only for a moment. “Shall we?”
    The streets were deserted. It was the only time New York was still. A pause between the end and the beginning. The sounds of their footfalls echoed against the brick walls.
“The rest of your shift went well?” Simon asked. When he wasn’t uselessly lost in the stacks, he found himself wondering what she was doing and trying to forget how she looked doing it. He was loath to admit it, but even in such a short separation, he missed her. It wasn’t a comforting thought. Surely, it was unnatural to think about someone so much. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always came back to her.
    “Work was okay,” she said. “Charlie gave me an advance so we’re okay, in the money department at least.”
    “Thoughtful of him,” he said, unable to keep the slight sneer from his voice.
    “I thought so. I seem to remember asking another boss for an advance once. He wasn’t quite so generous.”
    Simon barked out a quick laugh. “If I remember correctly you needed the money to buy a pair of Italian shoes.”
    “They were on sale for a limited time,” she said. “Charlie’s a good man. He worries almost as much as you do.”
    “I don’t—” Simon started in protest. “What does Charlie have to worry about?”
    “Gangsters, piano players: it’s a regular Scorsese film fest.”
    “A what?”
    “Scorsese. Do you even go to the movies?”
    Simon ignored her jibe and took hold of her elbow. “Gangsters. You’re sure?”
    “Well, one anyway.” Elizabeth went on to tell him about her encounter with King, her realization about the attack in the alley and Charlie’s warning. Simon asked her detailed questions about each conversation. When she finished, he fell into a thoughtful silence.
    Barely