With a stack of medical references on the table beside her, Dr. Eva Hadley pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and sighed. Funny, she thought to herself, somehow she thought the late nights in the medical section would be less frequent after getting her M.D.  Yet, here she sat, another Friday night in a library rather than a supper club. 

This wasn't the right volume. Sighing, she flipped the heavy tome closed and picked it up, shuffling back to the shelf from whence it had come. She wore nicely fitted gray trousers and black ballet flats with a black cashmere turtleneck sweater. Her dark, wavy hair hung free at her shoulders, with a delicate pearl comb keeping several locks of hair out of her face.

Having replaced the reference, she began her search for the correct one. Up and down the aisle, she looked, with no luck at all. Part of her thought to pack it all back up and go back to her hotel for the night; but putting this particular piece of research off would put her behind for the weekend. With a bit more resolve, she turned the corner and started down the next section. To her surprise, there was someone else in that aisle. She gave him a light smile as they briefly glanced at one another, then she returned to her search.

In an alcove towards the rear of the library, Heinrich sat thumbing through the pages of a dusty old tome on Barbarossa's reign as the Holy Roman Emperor. The flickering light above him bathed his face in an ever-changing mask of shadows and ghastly luminance. The ever-increasing stress of compartmentalizing his role at the university and his contribution to Race Street in distinctly scheduled yet seemingly overlapping timeframes was beginning to exhaust him mentally.

In the past few weeks, he had taken to escaping to the library until midnight, convincing the attendant to keep the place open longer than regulated. It had now become his fortress of solitude, a waiting room where he could calm himself and collect his thoughts before returning to the rigours of his strenuous existence. With a sigh, he flipped a page and carelessly glanced at the words as he considered creating an opening in his schedule sometime soon for the long overdue hunting trip he had to put off.

Random thoughts cycled through his brain, interrupted only by the sound of footsteps against the marble floor. It seemed his fortress had been infiltrated and his chance at solitude lost for the night. Annoyed he turned in the direction of the sound and saw a woman searching the shelves. She appeared to be a stranger, unfamiliar with her surroundings but seemed to exude an inquisitive aura as if she had spent enough time surrounded by books t be confident enough to find her way to whatever she needed.

Intrigued though as he was by her sudden appearance at such an odd hour, he couldn't restrain himself from smiling. With an eyebrow raised in amused curiosity, he shut his book and remarked. "You look like you could use some help Fremeder."

She hadn't expected him to speak, though she hadn't really thought about it that much, either. Glancing back at the gentleman, she gave a small shrug and  rested her hands on her hips. 

"Medical reference. I'm looking for volume five of Dr. George Boyd's case studies on the use of oxygen therapy, but it appears that it's either out or the libraries collection stops at volume four."

Her voice was low, respectful to the library and to those inside who pursued the vast knowledge held within. Her accent was unusual for the area, clearly enunciated English with a hint of Yorkshire British and something a bit more exotic. 

The gentleman beside her had an accent as well, and not at all Philadelphian. 

"I don't imagine you would know anything about oxygen therapy, would you?" 

Her voice came out much more refined than the average researcher at the library and the distinctness of her inquiry surprised him for it further reinforced his assumption that this was not just another student studying late for an assignment or a professor catching up on a delayed lesson plan.

Rummaging through the stack of books on his table, he pulled out the official register and began flicking through the pages. "Boyd, George." He muttered as he searched for the name along the columns. "Shelf no. 327." Pausing to close the register, he walked towards the relevant aisle. Unable to locate the book, he placed his hands on his hips and sighed as he continued. "As I suspected, that particular volume is not here. It is likely that the book has already been issued by someone else."

"I don't imagine you would know anything about oxygen therapy, would you?" Images of soldiers, in muddy trenches clutching their throats as field medics tried to counteract the chlorine gas with oxygen tanks only to be shot by his Guwehr rifle, flashed through his mind at her words. With a sardonic smile, he responded. "I have some knowledge of it, yes."

Having followed him to his own book-laden table, Eva let her gaze wander over the titles he had collected. They looked to be all on world history and military history, which caused her to cast a surprise look up at him when he replied in the affirmative to her question. She picked up one of the books and looked at the title. 

"Well, you have me intrigued, sir. I don't imagine you picked up any information on the topic from Barbarossa."

It was a true statement. With an M. D., Eva couldn't remember her lay history class. Yet, this gentleman appeared well versed in both history and at least some sort of medical practice or theory. 

Pushing aside her curiosity to make way for common courtesy, Eva held out a hand to introduce herself properly. 

"I'm Evelyn. Eva, if you prefer."

A dry chuckle escaped his throat at her response. With a shrug, he gestured to the book she had just picked up and remarked. "Barbarossa drowned in a Turkish castle on his way to a Crusade. Technically, some oxygen therapy may just have been enough to prevent his death and the subsequent Saracen victory. It would seem war and medicine go hand in hand more often than most realize." He conveniently left out the fact that Barbarossa drowned in barely hip-deep water and him standing itself would have been enough to change the course of European history. 

Taking her hand in his own, he kissed the back of her palm. Old habits died hard after all.  "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Frau Evelyn. I'm.." Reichsgraf? Hauptmann? Those titles were now meaningless for he was no more than a simple scholar now. "..Heinrich, Heinrich Grimm." 

The chiming of the clocktower outside reminded him that midnight was upon them and he should ideally vacate the premises if he did not wish to infuriate the librarian anymore than he already had.  "I was just about to make my way over to the cafeteria for some refreshments. I can't promise that I will be much help with your research, but I'd be happy to try and help if you would care to join me. Perhaps you could tell me why you are searching for it and more importantly, here of all places considering you're an outsider. All in due time of course. Let's start with the procedure and your questions related to it first."

In truth, it had been far too many months since Eva had been able to hold a conversation outside of medical jargon or above the level of the average Detroit-Joe's elementary school education. Heinrich was a sudden breath of fresh air with his at-hand, interesting historical facts and European mannerisms. She returned a smile when he released her palm.

"That sounds very nice, actually. Let me just get my things."

Quickly, so as not to hold him up, Eva carried her used books to the return cart, then took her white wool coat, purse, and beret from the rack behind her. She pulled them on as she rejoined him.

"I assume you are employed here at the University?" she inquired casually as they walked.

Heinrich held the door open for her as they departed from the building. A cool breeze cloaked him as the moonlight lit their path. With his arms behind his back, he offered a wry smile as he teased. "Oh no, I'm an undercover actor researching for a role in Victor Fleming's next film. The script is rather interesting."

As they progressed further along the path he elaborated sheepishly.  "I spin tales about the lives of our ancestors across the pond and help young minds learn from the mistakes of the past, when I'm not staving off their boredom with thrilling accounts of kings and generals. I certainly hope it wasn't my attire that gave it away. I'd like to think I'm not just a stereotypical bookish scholar."  Even as the lie left his lips, the Edelweiss on his lapel lay heavy on his heart reminding him just how hard he had tried to cultivate the persona and be free of his past.

A sombre glaze briefly came over his eyes before he segued into something else. "But speaking of stereotypes, you don't exactly appear to fit that of a student or a professor. What mysteries do you hide Frau Evelyn?"

Eva genuinely laughed at his line about being an actor.

"It wasn't your attire, I assure you. To be quite frank, it was your familiarity with the library itself. You seemed very well acquainted with the layout, and you were quick to kindly offer your assistance. I didn't take you for the librarian type, and you have far too many wits about you to be a student, so it was process of elimination that led me to my guess."

It was part of Eva's intuition to sense things about people; an involuntary response that likely came from being a medical professional and having to look past what she was being told to focus on what she saw. When he inquired about her potential mystery, she thought to herself "perhaps none as mysterious as yours."

Instead, she shrugged slightly and pushed a lock of dark, wavy hair behind her ear.

"Unfortunately, I am not so mysterious. Exotic, maybe, as I am a foreigner in the U.S., but otherwise rather plain."

She winced internally. Eva hated lying; but just for once in her adult life, she wanted to have an interesting conversation with an interesting man and not have to worry about...them.

"I'm a surgeon. I work at St. Andrews Hospital in Detroit. Nothing terribly fancy for me- just a general surgeon, and I have an emergency department shift twice a week. By and large, those shifts are far more interesting than my surgery rounds."

She pulled her coat a bit tighter around her as a late winter breeze blew by.

"If I may be so bold, where are you from? I'll share my country of origin if you share yours."

His eyes caught the subtle movement of her fingers as she pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and wondered if he had brushed onto a sore subject. When she implied a supposedly plain life, in stark contrast to the intrigue hidden behind her eyes, he felt she was being less than truthful with him. Rather than annoy him, that only served to amuse him for he of all people knew just how fascinating buried secrets could be. So though he decided not to pursue the topic further, his curiosity was certainly piqued.

"The thrill and the adrenaline rush of an emergency case must break up the monotony of your regular rounds. I can't imagine how brave you have to be to get through all that blood. Paper cuts are enough to make me queasy." The Grimm Reaper lied. He had seen and spilt more blood in France than most hospital staffs combined, all in the service of a deluded cause. But despite his current association with Louis Mezzo, that was in the past or so he hoped.

"I am of German, or rather Prussian descent." The Reichsgraf replied proudly. "Though I've spent almost a decade and a half here, first as a student," The Hauptmann paused as he recalled how he earned his degree in a POW cell. "And then as an employee of the university."The Professor continued sombrely.

As they entered the cafeteria, he looked at her inquisitively awaiting her response.

There it was. Eva nodded as he shared his birthplace. Most people of German descent that Eva had ever met were naturally very somber. Not surprising, given the horror and the troubles from the war. Not wishing to tread on anything that might be unsettling, she kept her end of the deal.

"I suppose I'm a bit of a gypsy. I was born in Cyprus. My father was working as a surgeon in a mission where he met my mother, who was a nun at the time. Needless to say, she gave up on her vows after falling in love with him, and I was born a year or so later. Then, when I was seven, we moved back to his home in London, and that's where I grew up."

She stepped through the door that was held for her into the warmth of the cafeteria. The distinct smell of freshly brewed coffee filled her senses.

"It appears they knew I was coming" she joked.

"Ah," he sighed. "So you followed your father's footsteps and became a surgeon, then travelled to a faraway land just like him?" Heinrich wasn't surprised. If the war had turned out differently, he would have done much the same as his father. Inherited the Grimm Estate and become a Reichsgraf of the German Empire. The influence fathers and their professions held was a definitive aspect of the class-based system of the monarchies of Germany and Britain. But still, there was something amiss, for she had not travelled to an economic backwater like Cyprus. There was more to the story, hidden beneath the surface.

As they entered the cafeteria, the young barista on duty, prepared for his routine midnight arrival. He gave Heinrich an amused smile as he spotted the elegant woman beside him, excited about some potential gossip he had unearthed. The Professor simply rolled his eyes and escorted Eva to his regular spot beside a window that overlooked the campus gardens outside.

"If they did, this sure is a lacklustre welcome." He responded with a subtle grin. "Tell me, Frau Evelyn, where will your gypsy blood take you tomorrow?"

"I suppose I did, somewhat. My parents liked to do mostly philanthropic work over profitable work. I'm happy to work with the less fortunate, but the salary of a junior general surgeon in Detroit doesn't exactly put me in the tax bracket to be making a lot of charitable donations."

Laying her coat over the back of a chair, she settled into a seat and glanced out the window. Underneath, standing not too far from the window, a young man with curly blonde hair lit a cigarette. As he took a slow drag, he looked up at Eva for a moment. Slightly irritated, Eva gave him a hard glare, then quickly turned her attention back to her companion. 

"Oh, well, I'm observing a heart procedure at the University hospital operating theater in the morning. It's being done by Dr. Lawrence Granger, who was one of my professors in med school. That's early, but my flight back to Detroit doesn't leave till 6 pm, so I thought I'd try to see some of the city. After all, life can't be all work, right? "

Her dark eyes looked curiously to the handsome, mild-mannered professor.

As she mentioned her work, the gears in his mind began to turn. The ambitious professor jockeying for the position of Associate Dean took over. He began considering the possible outcomes of an association with this woman and the ramifications of that with regards to his bid for the promotion. 

"Your desire for charitable work as well as your pursuit for knowledge is quite admirable Frau Evelyn. Most people of your profession are less empathetic to the plight of those without the means to afford basic medical assistance. You remind me of the stories Dr Thomas Newton, a colleague of mine told me about his former employer." He commented politely as he tried to pique her curiosity nonchalantly.

"Dr Newton is a Professor here at the university, always complaining about the lack of Guest Lecturers willing to grace the campus. But that's beside the point. You see he worked a local medical institution called the St Francis Xavier hospital, more specifically in the Alexander Knight ambulatory care division of the hospital as the chief surgeon under the tutelage of Dr Ilaria Santoro." Pausing to look away wistfully he continued. "By all accounts, you seem to share the passion she had for the work. If you'd like, I'd be happy to pull in a few favours and get Dr Newton to let you accompany him for some of his pro bono guest procedures if you would be open to educating the young minds here."

If she relented, Dr Newton would be more susceptible to backing him for the vacant spot of Associate Dean and he would have a greater chance of interacting with this woman some more to discover why she intrigued him so much. 

A smile grew on Eva's face at his idea. 

"That...that would be wonderful, actually. I was on a team in London that developed a new procedure for secondary bowel resegmentation that has proven to reduce sepsis, and I would be very eager to -" 

Realizing that she was rambling, Eva stopped herself and cleared her throat sheepishly.

"Well, anyway, that sounds like a fantastic opportunity, thank you."

They talked on, over a few cups of coffee. Around 2 am, Eva happened to glance out the window where Ilya was standing, his arms crossed and a stern look on his face. Sighing, Eva looked back to Heinrich.

"This has been a delight, Mr. Grimm, thank you for everything."

She scribbled her home phone number on a napkin. 

"If Dr. Newton is interested in having me, this is how he can bed contact me. And...you, if you'd like. You know, to contact me."

Eva regretted such a hasty departure, but if Ilya was getting restless, he might be suspicious, and that wasn't good at all. She stood and gathered her coat. 

​​​​​​"It was a pleasure to meet you."

She smiled softly, then hurried to the cafeteria entrance. 

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