Page 8 of Tight Spaces

"I guess it depends on what you do with that big brain of yours." But he didn’t like her sad, almost weary tone.

"My cranium capacity is no larger than average for a woman of my height."

He shook his head. "That’s not what I meant."

The amusement now lurking in her grey gaze said she knew that and was teasing him. She didn’t dwell on whatever bothered her and while he found that admirable, he didn’t like the idea that she carried a burden like that about herself.

"You are something special, Danusia."

"I’m a freak." She shrugged. "But we take the bad with the good, right? If I can be like Matej and develop something to make the world a better, or safer, or healthier place, then it’s worth it to be such a bad fit with other people."

"You fit just fine with me."

"And you are a good friend to my brother."

"He’s not here now and I still like spending time with you."

"So, give me something to do."

"Tired of studying?"

"You could say that. The latest batch of research I downloaded from Luminescent Pharmaceuticals doesn’t make sense. I think I’ve been staring at the printouts too long."

"Are they one of the companies experimenting with the use of nanotechnology in medical treatments?"

"Yes. They’ve had some breakthroughs too, or so some of their research would suggest. But the reports I’ve been looking at today don’t back it up. I’m not sure exactly what they do say, to be honest."

"If anyone can figure it out, it’s you."

"Right. I’d rather slice vegetables."

"All done, but if you’re intent on manual labor, you can start on the dishes."

She looked over to the nearly empty sink. "You’re a clean-as-you-go kind of cook, aren’t you?"

He shrugged. He liked order. Nothing wrong with that.

She grinned, as if she knew a joke she wasn’t telling, but headed over to start on the dishes.

He put the red snapper covered in Cajun spices into the melted butter in the cast-iron frying pan. The fish started to sizzle immediately, the scent of chili powder and crushed red pepper seeds filling the kitchen.

"Smells delicious," she said as she washed the pan he’d used for the sauce. "You’re a really good cook, aren’t you?"

"It’s a hobby."

"A pretty serious hobby, by the look of things."

"It relaxes me." Cooking blackened red snapper with mango-lime sauce was a far cry from MRE rations and helped him to distance his home time from that in the field.

"I like to cook too, but my roommate says I’m too keen on experimentation for my own good."

"How can you help it?"

"That’s what I tell Rebekah."

"A fully stocked kitchen’s an irresistible temptation to someone with an intimate working knowledge of chemistry. Or so Roman says."

"Roman experiments in the kitchen too?" Danusia sounded shocked by the prospect. "Rebekah is more into physics than chemistry, but she is more than happy to just follow a recipe, you know? I like to try different things. And Roman does that?"