Sex, Lies, and Inventions

“You’re pale as a ghost.” The Professor came to her side and ushered her to a stool. “Sit down.”

“I’m fine. Really. We need to get that lightning stabilized, we’ve left it for too long.”
As she hopped from the stool and tried to move past him, he gripped her arm. The Professor rarely touched her. She looked up, and the expression on his face startled her. Even more unsettling was the way his mouth seemed to be getting closer to hers, and though she’d fantasized about this very situation time and again, it had all seemed more romantic in her head.
She would take what she could get.
With more bravery than she’d thought she would have at this moment, she reached up and pulled him down, pressing their mouths together for a brief, glorious second.
The Professor gripped her shoulders and pulled her back, breaking their contact. “Feebee,” he whispered.
She straightened and cleared her throat. “No, you’re right, this is not pru–”
He swept her up in his arms at the same time he swept the contents of Gideon’s worktable to the floor.