Ghost in the Lab

(Closed for Lotus_Maiden)

Max pressed open the door to the office, and the wood frame rattled the frosted glass reminding him how old this old research department was. The wood floors glistened in the poor lighting from years of being waxed with a heavy hand, and the dust in the air smelt like the mildew of a generation floating through the ventilation shafts. A single metal desk straight out of the 70s sat on one side of the room away from the window and what could be a second desk faced the opposite wall, if you could tell from underneath the mountain of yellowing papers and books.

“Like, I said, Max,” the older woman said behind him, “it’s not all that impressive but it’s going to be quiet.” She was Max’s new boss, a heavy set woman with a bit too much hairspray and makeup and would never pass as a manager of an R&D Pharmaceutical department, but you never know these days. “Across the hall is the lab you share with your teammates but because are … how do I say this .. Theoretical Chemists … you know, the kind that spend all their time in books. Well, anyway, you will pretty much have the run of the place.”

He walked around quietly in the room noting he may need to not spend as much on clothes if they didn’t clean up this place better. In the decent leather soled black shoes that went well with the work slacks. His blue button down and golden striped tie weren’t high end but could pass for it on a bad day. That’s one thing he tried to keep on from his youth, dressing sharply. He kept his face clean shaven, his dark hair brushed back and cut regularly, and even tried his best to stay in shape around classes. He was a little taller than normal, but no one would mistake him for being overly athletic. Just well kept.

“Someone else in here? In this room?” Max asked as he pointed to some papers thrown around on the ‘cleaner’ of the two desks.

“Someday maybe,” she responded. “Right now we don’t have the need to add another head. I was just happy we could back-fill your position to finish your project.”

“I … Am going to find out what that project is? Am I Mrs. Knightly?”

“Eager aren’t we?”

Max just shrugged and smiled. Max was smug about the question, like he was some genius brought in to save the company. He wanted to go back to school for his PhD, but when you are 25 and trying not to live off your mom you have to put your life plans on hold. Besides, Max should have been happy to have anyone think he was qualified to do anything other than flipping tarot cards in a back alley.

His question still lingered, and before she could answer his question a man in a blue work shirt stuck his head in the doorway reading from a thin sheet of printer paper. “Computer drop-off for …” he studied the paper before butchering his name, “Max-ma-lilian Bab-bab-bailea.”

Max huffed and shook his head, “Maximilien Babineaux, yes.”

“I know I said this before,” Mrs. Knightly chimed in, “but I swear I heard your name before, Max.”

“Bambi-No,” the man interrupted as he started dragging an old desktop into the room. “Ain’t that the lady from the TV that tells fortunes?”

“Of Course!” Mrs. Knightly brightened. “Lady Babineaux, Acadian Medium to the Stars. That’s why it sounds familiar. You’ve heard of her surely, Max.”

“Ahhhh yes,” Max replied with a slight smile, and went ahead with a confession of sorts. “She is my mother.”

Immediately the other two spool-up and spout off how much they love Lady Babineaux this, and that great special where she did that. They spoke how she was reported to be able to talk to ghosts, or to find hidden messages in the world to discover great things. Oh how that one Christmas Special identified childhood presents of Hollywood actors noone would ever know they had. On and On they bragged about the Great Lady Babineaux, as if it was something he was proud of. He just smiled, nodded, and corrected where things needed such correction. Deep down he was just using every curse word he ever heard of in anger at his own stupidity. Why did he let these people know about ‘her’. Now it will be all they ask about, all they will want to know about. Of course, he would have to keep his mouth shut about how his mother was all flash and performance with no substance. All the wild dresses, the huge gemstones on her fingers, the layers & layers of makeup was all to hide how much of a fraud she was. Oh, she had the gift of course, his whole family did. What was fake was how she made people feel she actually cared. Part of the show was to get them to cry at the right time, and gush over with thanks and love. She didn’t love these people, she just wanted the attention, to use the gift to make her money.

“Oh - Oh,” Mrs Knight broke his chain of thought, “can you speak to the dead just like her?”

Max sighed, but on a fake smile, and gave her the lie he gives everyone. “The gift passed over me. If a ghost ever tried to talk to me, I hadn’t heard it.”

He let them chatter away, happy now that there is someone within their six degrees of separation to someone famous. In time it will be just a factoid past around the building and he will go back to being just what he wants to be. Max Babineaux, Experimental Chemist.

Amelia Imura

Lia woke up with a banging headache. It was so bad that her vision blurred for the next five minutes. She lay on her bed and her dark tiresome stared at the ceiling fan until it came to focus again. During this period, she thought of last night. What did she do that made her felt like an anvil had dropped on her head? Oddly, last night seemed like forever ago.

She remembered being in the lab at work. She had pulled another late night. The place was empty. It wouldn’t make any difference to her if it was crowded anyways. Lia didn’t socialize much at work. She hardly talked to anyone, and people hardly knew she even existed. Most of the time, if not all the time, she locked herself up in the lab and concentrated on the experimental project. Although she was only an intern, she was one of the lucky few that was hand pick and put on the highly classified and secretive project.

Lia had started the internship at Umbrella Corp for five months now. It started as a summer internship to get experience and beef up her resume. She was set to graduate next spring. She was put on this special project right away. Upper management said they need a young and fresh perspective. She was supposedly the perfect fit. She was thrilled and dived right in. They had her mixing liquid and gaseous chemicals, running various tests, and analyzing blood slides. Strangely enough, they kept her very well feed. They sent her lunches every day. They even provided dinner when she was still there after six. As a soon-to-graduate college student with huge tuition debt, Lia accepted the perks without question. It saved her from buying her own food.

Like many other nights, Lia stayed after hours to clean up the lab and finished the company meal last night. And then… Odd, she couldn’t recall anything else… She must have had went home after that. It was the logical explanation.

“Uuuugh!” She groaned at the pain from thinking too hard. So she decided not to think about last night anymore. She got up and went to the bathroom to get ready for another day at work. She wanted a hot shower but ended with a luke warm one. She cranked hot on full blast for some strange reason it didn’t feel hot enough. However, the mirrors and whole bathroom were fogged up once she was done. After she finished combing her long black locks, she applied the make-up. It didn’t matter how much foundation she used, her face stilled looked white and pale; like a ghost. She finally gave up and went el naturel. She put on a blue silk blouse and white cotton pants, and then she headed to work.



---



Lia walked down the hallway toward her cubicle. Like most on this floor, she had a white lab coat on with her Amelia Imura badge adored on the pocket. Her flats turned the corner as the IT man, indicated by his blue work shirt, exited her area and wheeled an empty cart. Behind him was Mrs. Knightly, the short and plum R&D Pharm manager. They whizzed pass her without a word. Expected.

What she didn’t expect was someone else in her cubical area. He was well groomed with his dark hair gelled, shirt pressed with a matching tie, and shoes polished. He looked too young, maybe three or four years older than her, to be a manager.

She gazed up at the man, whom was at least a foot taller than her, and asked in a quiet tone, “Um, excuse me. Who are you?”

Max was finally left to himself for the first time. A real office. A real desk. A real room to being his first real job. Sure he had the normal first day duties. Get into his computer, take this training and that training online, start reading through all the notes left behind by the previous researcher. But for this moment, he just wanted to enjoy it. Standing there, he closed his eyes, laid his head back, stretched open his fingers, and took a long deep breath. He had made it.

When the voice came from behind him, he turned and smiled ready to meet a new colleague.

But … It … Wasn’t.

She was pretty fully formed, but you get the knack to tell the living from the dead pretty quick. She was a cute little thing, young too. By the look of her clothes, it happened pretty recently also. Thing was, he never wanted this gift, never asked for it. Wouldn’t you know it, once his life was going in the direction that he wanted.

Max turned away from her. Started stacking papers nearly in an animated way. He tried to make it look like he hadn’t heard her. Like he’s no different than anyone else in this building. Even went as far as whistling a little tune. He had turned just enough away from her to try to seem like he didn’t see her, but still kept her in the corner of his eye.

Most ghosts are dazed anyway, or dumb, or just not all there mentally. Maybe she’ll just see him as no one else and leave him alone.

Lia was stunned for the second time today when the stranger pretended not to hear or see her. He had turned to her but then he made another about turn. She watched him messing with papers and whistling some tune. She usually didn’t mind people ignoring her. This time was different. He was in her area and mussing over her things.

Her cheeks puffed. After a deep breath, she asserted, “Umm, hello? Hey, don’t touch that!” She lunged forward and reached out to grab the papers with chicken scratches in his hands. Instead of holding onto the papers though, she seemed had just knock them out of his grip.

The sheets drifted in the air for a second before landed everywhere on the old nasty floor. “Ugh. Great,” she mumbled. “Thanks a lot.” She got on her knees to gather the pieces. She went to pick up the paper... wait, she couldn’t touch it. Her fingers closed down, trying to hold on to it again. But they... went right through...

“Wa...what the?” She tried to grab again with the other hand, and once again, her fingers went right through. Her hands frantically tried to touch like a blind person trying to fish, missing its target every time. “Ho. How. Wha. What’s happening?”

Her head swung over her shoulder and looked up at the new kid. “Are you... Is this some sort of trick? Are you messing with me, new guy? Are they some sort of hologram?”

“Ahhh, shit,” he responded. His shoulders sank and he gritted somewhere between pity and a loss of patience. Frustrated he bent down and started to scoop the papers up easily, just like she intended to do.

As much as he was hoping the girl would just go away, she didn’t.

As much as he tried to act like nothing was wrong, he didn’t.

Just when it became obvious this girl didn’t even know she was dead, now he had a real problem. Someone was going to have to tell her. As far as he knew, there wasn’t anyone else around to do the job. What made matters worse is that now she caught his eye, talking right to him, and he was dumb enough to look right back to her. His cover was blown.

So it came down to the hard fact that it was going to have to be him. He had to break the news to the girl that she’s passed on, that she needs to find her peace, and she will never speak to or be with her loved ones ever again. Make no mistake, this would be difficult news for her to swallow, and it fell on his sensitive, gentle nature to guide her at this point. He took a deep breath and spoke:

“You’re dead. Get that? You’re a ghost, and a messy one at that. Now go cross over or be dead somewhere else! Some of us have a living to make.”

The new guy cursed and picked up the papers without any problem. That puzzled her even more. Lia shifted her between his with the papers and his face, clearly showed his frustration and annoyance.

“Hey, watch your language,” she muttered. “Who are you?” she asked. Again it seemed to fall on death ears. She began to wonder if he was deaf. He once again ignored her, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “Hey, I’m talking to you.”

She reached out to grab him, which was in vain once again. Her hand went right through his forearm. Still, she felt his flesh and body heat around her fingers. For the first time, she realized how cold she was.

He finally spoke to her or did he? His words didn’t make any sense to her. “You’re dead. Get that? You’re a ghost, and a messy one at that. Now go cross over or be dead somewhere else! Some of us have a living to make.”

The young intern stared at him with opened mouth and confused expression. “Wh. What are you talking about? Is. Is that supposed to be a joke? Haha?” she questioned even though he looked dead serious. Still he still refused to believe him.

“If I’m dead, how can I still be here? How can I still talk to you? How can you still see me? Besides, I don’t remember…” she paused to think before added, “…dying. You have a strange sense of humor, mister. And you’re crazy.”

He bent over his desk, started plugging something into the keyboard. Up popped a ‘Umbrella Corporation Health & Safety Training’ video, and he started running it. If he had to put up with ghost, he might as well do it while letting one of those new employee courses run.

“No joke, Casper,” he quipped with an edge of frustration. “Ceased to be, gone to meet your maker, a stiff, bereft of life you rest in peace.”

He was probably being as cold to her as she was in all actuality, but this was someone he wanted to get rid of and he was pretty sure he could without letting it come back and bite him. That’s the nice thing about having such a rare gift - you can be an ass to a ghost and they can’t bit about you to the rest of the living.

“You need a little more proof? Here!” He shot his hands towards here, specifically right at her clothed breasts like he was going to grope them. Instead they passed right into her. He gripped the air where her form was as the edges of her being faded a little where flesh met her whisp. “See? Can’t even feel you up.”

He turned back to his desk and pulled up his chair. “You’re still here because you just are. I can see and talk to you because I just can. I’ve got to get through this training so if you don’t mind, could you just leave me alone.”

addition is in italic xd

Lia found his nonchalant behavior creepy. If he was trying to pull a prank, should he be more involved and dramatic? So did this mean she was really---. She shook her head and told herself, “No, I can’t be dead.”

He corrected her without lifting his eyes from the training video, ”No joke, Casper. Ceased to be, gone to meet your maker, a stiff, bereft of life, you rest in peace.”

"My name is Amelia, not Casper!" she scolded.

She wanted to slap the hell out of the back of his head, but he strike first. His hands reached for her, going straight at her … She yelped and shielded them behind her arms. “PERVE---,” her scream left hanging when his hands went straight through her, “---eeee?”

She felt his hands, but not really. She felt a tingly of heat on her chest instead of the fleshy contacts on her orbs. She stammered as he returned to the video, “This. This. Can’t. Can’t be. I? I’m? Dead?”

His words washed over like a bucket of cold water. Although he provided answers to her questions, he didn’t clear up a damn thing for her. And why he was still so indifference with a dead girl in front of him? He was an ass and acted like a jerk; she shouldn’t trust anything he said right?

Yet…

“NO!” she shouted out of frustration, denial, and fear.

“I!” Her voice filled with anger as the fluorescence lights flickered. They popped, darkened the windowless room.

“AM!” Loose papers flapped and fluttered around them.

“NOT!” The hair on the back of her neck rose. She felt herself lifting off the floor a few centimeters.

“DEAD!” She threw her fist at him, but it went straight through the side of his arm.

“ARGH!!!” She swept her arms over his desk. As her hands went through the monitor and computer, the electronics whizzed and fizzed. The screen went out with a small poof and the tower emitted a trail of smoke.

Lia disappeared.

Stunned maybe an understatement. Max just stood in the aftermath of the storm the ghost had created and didn’t immediately move. The only light left not coming from the hallway was the occasional flicker of a spark coming from monitor. Papers lay around him like the aftermath of a tornado. Max just stood there for a minute then mumbled to himself, “well, that could have gone worse.”

As he did an alarm started buzzing, and sprinklers cascaded down on the whole of the office.

….

About four hours later, Max slowly running a device that looked an awful lot like a hair dryer over counters covered in single sheets of paper. He was dressed down to a t-shirt that showed the periodic table and gym shoes from his bag in the car, but still had on the slightly damp slacks. He had cooled down his anger at the ghost, that to keep his co-workers from thinking he is crazy, remained bottled up inside when the fire drill turned investigation turned temporary relocation turned into the start of starting over again. Drying these notes now was at least mindless enough that he could just begin to ignore the world. His first trip into the lab, and all he gets to do is try to recover the mess that ghost made for him.

Then she shouted, “Mr. Babineaux!”

Max jumped, jumped bad, and almost yelped. He shut off a dryer and dropped it to the side like he was putting a hand gun in a holster.

Now with the dryer off she spoke in a normal tone, “Mr. Babineaux, are you alright?” In front of him, standing as though she had been trying to get his attention for some time, was a woman too stunningly gorgeous to have any reason to be standing anywhere near a chemistry lab. At about his height, her strawberry blonde locks cascaded in full rings across her shoulders and down her back. Her bright blue eyes, plump lips, and elfish nose accented the light smattering of freckles. She wore a tight yellow sweater that rounded over top perfect orbs that drew Max’s eyes like a legs shooting out of a red light district window. She wore some kind of black leggings that seemed to be painted over everything below her waist but because that sweater was long enough to cover the good parts she only could hint of what could be there to see. In her hands she held a notebook, clasped to her taut stomach, and seemingly just to accent the overall curves of her body. That’s right, no one this beautiful would ever need to work a day in their life let alone enter a lab. “Mr. Babineaux?” she asked not quite catching he was gawking.

“Oh … ah …. yes,” he fumbled. “Max, it’s just Max is fine. I’m … ummm .. okay, just trying to get through the worst first day in the history of Umbrella.” He tried to be funny but, wasn’t.

She did laugh though, sweetly too. “I understand, I heard about your computer and the electrical fire. It’s …” she looked up and flipped her head back and forth, “a bit of an old building, you know.”

“Yes yes, so I have heard,” he replied. “Can I help you with something, Mrs. …”

“Kylie is fine,” she replied offering a hand to shake. It was soft, warm, inviting. “We had a meeting scheduled for tomorrow but since you probably won’t have a computer to see your schedule by then I thought I better stop by to introduce myself. I will be working with you on your project.”

“Working … with …”

“Yeah, I know, right?” She leaned in and whispered, “they actually think I got a ‘B’ in chemistry.” With a giggle she looked around the room complete with all the papers about. “Not that I am going to help you with all of .. you know this. The management just wants all these reports and notes you know? So they get us to come in and do all of that for you so you don’t have to waste your time and all that junk.” She stopped where one of the pages fell to the floor in the drying process. Bending over, her sweater rose so that every inch of her perfectly rounded rear came into view not any more than ten feet in front of Max. “I know you got a lot to do, and if you just let me know what you are doing then I will keep the big bosses out of your hair.” She turned back to look over her shoulder at him, “like our own little team, right?”

Max just nodded his head.

“So, I’ll let you work on this, and if you need me … just ask for Kylie, kay?” She left the page on the counter and walked out the door.

Max was sweating a little, letting only half of all that start to register. As bad as this day has been, at least now he has a good reason to come in tomorrow.

With a blink of an eye, Lia found herself in the lobby. She twirled around frantically and anxiously. What was happening to her? How did she get here? What happened back there? What hell? What was going on? Was she really… dead?

She ran toward the security guard behind the reception desk. “Hey. Hey. Excuse me?”

He didn’t look up from his phone. She resorted to screaming and waving her hands in front of his face “YOOOOU!!!”

Still, he didn’t give her any reaction. Neither did the lady waiting on the couch or a guy standing in front of the elevator. They. She.

Fear washed over her. She finally realized that they didn’t ignore her because she was a nobody. They ignored her because they couldn’t see her. They didn’t get a new intern to share the cube with her. They hired a new employee to take over the vacant seat.

She was. Dead. She melt down, succumbed to her knees, buried her face in her palms and sobbed like there was no tomorrow. Wait, there was no tomorrow for her.

As she understood and accepted the revelation, a new set of mystery bombarded. How? When? Where? She couldn’t remember a thing.

“This. Can’t. Be,” she whimpered though she knew it’s true. She still had so many things to do, say, experience. She had a whole life in front of her. She had –yes, had, but not anymore. She missed her life and her family, whom she could no longer talk or touch. They couldn’t see her. She felt lonely, more than usual, truly alone.

She sat and cried…

…Then she heard clicking of heels. She peeped over her arms to find herself back at in her work area. The place was dark, looked disastrous, smelled like burnt coal, and felt damp and wet. Did a hurricane strike here? Was this her doing? How?

As she pondered in a crouching postion next to the doorway where a lady in yellow sweater and black leggings just walked pass her. Lia glared up just in time to see the woman familiar face. It was Kylie Monigue, the special project lead. She was the one who approached and recruited Lia for the project. She had always been really nice to the young intern.

Lia wanted to greet her, but she didn’t. It would have been all in vain anyways. So the tall beautiful blonde walked off, swaying her behind left to right and holding a notebook to her chest. Lia hadn’t able to talk to anyone except ---

She immediately stared straight up at the new guy. He was much more casual since the last time in his sneakers, nerdy t-shirt, and wet pants. His hair was messy but at least dry unlike his sweaty face. She uttered weakly, “Help.”

Max jumped again. The near squeak of a voice, coming from nothing more than fading in figure is not something you get used to right away. Especially when you were more than happy to allow a vision of yellow sweater muffins and painted on black leggings.

“No,” he reacted. Max held a palm up to her. “No … no, no no. I just wanted to start my job off on a good foot and you nearly burnt down my office. On my first day even.”

Yet over his hand he could see her, the fear and pain coming over her face. She truely was coming to grips with the idea that she was now dead, that was clear.

“No,” he gritted. Soon his voice turned softer as he tried to refocus on the notes. “No … I don’t do that. I don’t …”

Still, it was the way she crouched down, curled up like a little girl afraid of the monsters under the bed. Yet she wasn’t. She was a woman, and she now faced the scariest unknown every moral creature faces. And he was the only one that could help.

He sighed heavily. “What’s your name, kid?”

With her chin rested on her knees now, her lips bent and eyes swelled even bigger when he said no repeatedly. She was already so lost and confused, and alone. Even though she only met this new guy, she knew she would be worse without him. He was the only who can see her and converse with her. She needed him...

...his help.

“Please,” she muttered each time he refused her. She sniffled loudly when he seemed to cave.

His tone was lighter. His heavy sigh sounded like a waving white flag. He asked for her name.

“I. I’m not a kid. My name is Amelia Imura. I go by Lia.” She rose to her feet and stepped toward him slowly with pause in each step.“You will help?”

Before he could response, she apologized, “I. I’m. Sorry about this. I didn’t know I can do all this. I don’t know anything anymore.” She bit her bottom lips and stared up at him with depression and hope at the same time.

She pleaded again, “I don’t know what to do. You obviously no about me, or at least my kind, the dead. Can you. Will you help me? Please?"

Max sighed heavily, and dragged a roller stool near her. He sat and crossed his arms over his t-shirted chest.

“If I help you,” he started, but stopped raising hands up defensively, “and I am not saying I am going to help, I am just saying IF ...then it’s on my terms.”

He began counting out numbers on his fingers strictly. “For one, no poofing in to get my attention while I am around other people. Two, no trying to talk to me while I am talking to someone else. It’s a real bitch to try to explain why I keep hear voices that they can’t - people think either you are crazy or … they figure out you do have the gift and then ...” He shook his head, then continued. “Three, respect my privacy. You may be dead, but I still want to have a life. Got it?”

It was a bit harsh. He was a bit harsh. Finally he was starting to realize that a little and it made him grit his teeth. “Listen, I know this is all a shock to you and all, but you have all of eternity now, and I don’t, so I need some understanding okay?”

Sry for the delay -busy RL... response will be slow as well

Lia googly eyes stared up at the helper. She glanced between his counting fingers and his shadowy face. She nodded repeatedly as she smiled, feeling happy and relief that he was on board to help her. So much that she barely listened to his conditions. Behind that jackass demeanor, he could be a good guy after all; at least a very helpful one for her.

“Right. Right. Of course,” she agreed between the countdown. She rose her face off her hands. “Thank you!” She lunged forward, wanting to give him a hug. She fell right through him instead, piercing through him and the chair.

Her ass and feet were sticking up in the air. She quickly scooted back until she was face to face to him again. She had a wide smile this time. “Thank you for helping, mister...?” She dragged out the last word, waiting for him to fill in his name.

Watching her lunge towards him, he instinctively readied himself for the hug by stiffening up and wincing. When it didn’t happen, he slowly opened an eyelid and got an eyeful of what once was a cute little bottom. On her feet, he relaxed a little.

“Max … Max Babineaux,” he replied at first offering a hand like to shake it. Dropping it quickly he said, “oh, sorry … force of habit.”

He was feeling awkward around her, not just in the way that someone should feel awkward around a ghost, but a normal awkward. Thing was, it wasn’t just her little bottom that was cute. The rest of her was too. Cute in the way that when she was alive he probably would have tried to talk to her. But she was dead, and dead pretty much takes her off the market.

He spun away before he allowed himself to stare too long and started to collect up the dryer papers. “Alright, so what have you figured out to do so far? Besides blow up my computer bad enough to set off the sprinklers? Figure out how to jump around to different places or float through things?”

Her gaze dropped to his extended hand. Before she could comment, he already retracted it and apologized. She leaned in a little closer when he seemed to just stare at, or maybe through her. “Is there something on my face?” she questioned, patting her palms on her cheeks.

He just turned away, picked up the papers, and threw out some questions. “Yea, I’m sorry about the whole computer thing. I didn’t mean to. I really don’t know how I did it or how to do it again. It just. Happened. I was in shock being, well you know, dead and all. I can’t even jump around at will. One here at second and then over there the next. As matter of fact, I don’t know why I go through some things but don’t on others. Like this.”

Lia got up and walked over to the table where the monitor and computer used to be. She hopped onto the table and splatted on butt on the surface. She didn’t through the wood this time and was actually sitting on top. “See?”

She scooted back so her legs where dangled over the edge without her feet touched the ground. She sighed. “I’m a pretty pitiful ghost huh? Can you tell me what I can do? As I ghost I meant. I can’t be the first ghost you’ve encountered right? You knew what I am right away. You're not afraid of me. You're like that Medium lady on TV huh?! What's her name? Lady B? Lady Babineaux!"

He leaned more over the papers in front of him. The comment about her face, she caught him staring, and that just made him more uncomfortable. She talked and talked, talked alot. One of those kind of girls. So he let her talk for a bit while he stacked up the drying papers, making no intention of interrupting her.

But at the mention of his mother, his own face flushed over with anger. “I am not a like Her,” he spat.

Okay, maybe that was a little too abrupt, he thought to himself.

“Sorry, it’s just that …” He shook his head, turned away and continued to clean up. “I’m a chemist, not a medium.” The tone was still spiteful, but he meant it more to to end the subject than to be angry.

To back that up, he changed the subject. He turned away from her, bending at times to clean up the lab, but not wanting to look directly at the girl anymore for some reason. “Listen, this ability to touch things or go through things, there is two parts to it. Neither of them is easy for the living to explain. And it’s always temporary, depending on how much energy it all takes.

“The first one is just what you think you are touching, but you really aren’t. It only affects you, because its only about you. It is your own perception of an object. Your ghost can be in a lot of places at any time on it’s own choosing. Right now you made the choice it would sit on the desk. It isn’t any more physical to you than the wall or the papers, but since you wanted to sit there, you did and in your perception it feels solid to you. Change your perception and it’s no more solid than a cloud. But it takes energy, so sometimes you can feel like walking on the floor and a wall feels like air to you. And sooner or later that desk is going to seem to disappear as well. Get it?”

“I am not a like Her,” he spatted.

His unexpected tone shocked her. She froze, stiffened body and held her breath; wait, she wasn’t even really breathing… She nodded and agreed softly like she was walking on eggs, “Right. You’re not her.”

She dropped the subject even though she wanted to ask their relationship. Even if he clearly had distaste about the woman, they had the same last name so they must be related somehow, right? She brushed the curiosity away for the time being and quietly watched the chemist bending and picking up the random things off the floor.

“Listen,” he began.

She unglued her eyes from his behind and tried to find his face, which he kept on dodging away from her line of vision. She listened to his speech, but didn't she completely comprehended everything. She muttered some keywords here and there. “Energy. Touching. Perception. Physical. Disappear. Desk. Oooph!”

On the last word, her buttock sank into the desk and then her whole body went through, landing back on the floor. She felt the dampness of the ground this time. The coldness rippled through her body from her bottom. “Hey, I can feel the col-,” before she could complete her sentence, the familiar sensation disappeared.

“Oh, never mind,” she said grimly and stayed the under the desk. “Hey Max.” She stared out from the shadow. “Can you. Will you go see my parents with me? I. I haven’t talk to them since I started my internship here.” At the mention of her parents, water built in her eyes at the thought of her parents. They were probably as clueless about her demise as she was.

He was just about to start into the poltergeisty side of the what she can do when he her the “Oooph!”

He spun and where the ghost once was now was nothing, except for a hint of a foot sticking out from underneath the desk. “Oh brother,” he muttered and turned back to collecting the papers. Why is this happening to him, what bit of karma did he screw up to deserve this. She’s klutzy, she ditzy, and worst of all she knows who his mother is. The only thing that could make this worse is if she made him do some reconnect with her family.

“Can you. Will you go see my parents with me?”

Sure, she sounded tearful, that was a tipping point.

“What are you Insane!! No, I’m not going to see your parents. What do you think I am going to say to them. ‘Lia, your dead kid, she’s says hiya.’ I don’t think so.”

Now he we just scrambling papers into one big pile, not even caring to stack them anymore. This was just about as much as he could take.

The ghost was both frighten and surprise by his reaction. She couldn’t understand his frustration. Why couldn’t he do exactly what he just said? What was so hard about her request? Why was he being so difficult? It was such a simple request, to her. All he needed to do are to rely a message, her status to her parents, and probably a few goodbye words from her. Still, she wouldn’t ask if she could do it herself! She didn’t ask to be dead!

Lia’s pale body evaporated and re-popped right in front of him. Her semi-translucent brown eyes looked straight at him, while his probably stared right through her. Their noses were only centimeters apart.

“And why don’t you think so?” she questioned. “They need to know, now. When my internship ends, they’ll be wondering why I haven’t call or come home. Think how bad they’ll feel if they learn about their daughter’s death two months later? Max, you’re the only one I can ask since no one else knows about my death. For pete’s sake, even I didn’t know about it until today!”

As her voice rose, the gush of unnaturally wind picked up around them. It zipped through the pile of papers that he had been working on and scattered them back all over the floor. She noticed her unintentional handy work and muttered a quiet, "Sorry."

Max had heard many times over how callous, determined, and hard headed he could be. He could dig his heels in the ground and make sure what he wanted or what he agreed to would be what he got. She had a made an unfair request, so he had absolutely no reason to back down now.

As she solidified in front of him, he got his first real close-up of her face. There was something in the way the soft curves of her cheek, or how those dark pools of brown looked back at him. She was close enough that they would have shared the same air, if she still breathed. He felt like the heat on his skin rose to a boiling point when she was this close.

He swallowed, tempted to move back away, but chose not to. He coughed a little and studdard, “What… what do you want me to say? ”

If was one of those questions that he regretted the moment he said it. But it was out there now, and the trouble was going to come next.

Up close, Lia found his fluster and frustrate face pretty adorable. Surprisingly, she felt his warm breath bouncing on her cheeks when he coughed. Her hand cupped his cheek out of curiosity. His sweaty face and body heat tickled underneath her fingertips. “God, you’re burning up?” she pointed out.

“Just say that you’ll talk to them for me. Okay, maybe not tell them I’m dead. Not yet. Not until I figure out what happened to me. May. Maybe text them, to say I’m okay and I love them. Will you at least do that, please?

He felt her fingers on his cheek, felt them, as if she was able to control her ability to touch like an expert. The closeness and the feel of her made him sweat harder, and made his cheeks blush brighter.

He looked down at her feet, what was there at least through a slight fade in her form. He wanted to help her now, but the analytical mind started to come forward.

“I can’t do that, Lia. I really can’t.” He shook his head and turned away, again picking up papers and stacking them, which at this rate will be all to account for his working hours on his first day. “For one thing, it will be suspicious that a stranger calls them and says stuff like that. What if you were killed or hurt and they haven’t found you, they would think I did it. Besides …”

He turned back to her now, the papers all ordered once more. “... you’re not okay, Lia. They are never going to see you again. We don’t know what happened, but to tell them you are okay … it’s … it’s not true. Don’t ask me to lie to anyone about that.”

short. I figure a change of scenery is in order She’ll pop back up in his place?

Lai dropped her arms and gaze to her feet when Max refused and turned away from her once again. She felt depress and tired as the transparency trickled up her legs. “Fine,” she muttered quietly. “At least help me figure out how I had di---.” She didn’t get to finish her sentence before her form completely faded away.

With a spit of white foam from his lips, Max stood up from the sink. He ran some water in a cup to wash out the last of the toothpaste, but he stared back at the man in the mirror in a daze. He took a bit of the water in his mouth and spat. Then sighed heavily and shook his head.

“What the hell are you doing, Max? Really.”

Since the moment the spirit abruptly disappeared, he was split between being utterly frustrated by the girl and utterly pissed at himself. He tried so hard most of his adult life to avoid this past, this gift. Now that he has the opportunity to put a life together that is free of all the ghosts and spirits and lies, he chances fucking it all up on the first day.

Why?

Just because the dead girl is cute?

“She’s dead for cripes sake,” he said as he spun away from the mirror.

He peeled off his t-shirt and threw it on the floor near his clothes hamper. He caught whiff of the smell from under his arms and groaned. Trying to lose the thoughts about her, he went to the gym and ran on a treadmill until he could feel his hammys start to cramp up. Standing in front of the mirror again as he grabbed for his deodorant, he looked back at the shirtless torso. Sure he was fairly fit, and had the physique of a runner but all he saw was the pale skin from his forehead to where the dusting of his pubes made a line up his navel.

“You really need to start running outside,” he chided at himself and made a move to head to his his bed. As he did, he scratched at the front of his loose running shorts, starting to feel the growth of his member. He wasn’t yanking at it for cripes sake, but shifting it around wasn’t exactly making it go down.

Tossing off the comforter, and sliding under the thin bed sheet he started to realize he was on the verge of going to bed frustrated again. So it wasn’t surprising his hand snaked down to his member under the sheets. Put simply, it’s been a while. Or put understatedly, it’s been a while. Every time it seemed that some woman brushed his shoulder, he was getting a raging hardon. He found himself more and more having to take care of himself just to be socially normal.

So when a cute girl asks a favor, what’s he supposed to do. Even if she is dead.

What’s he supposed to do if he just got a chance to meet Kylie too. Seeing those perfectly round breasts under that tight sweater. The way she bent over to pick up papers. The image of what he would do if he could just slip up behind her. How he would lean over top of her, slide his hands over her breasts, and lift that yellow sweater so that he could peel those leggings over her perfectly round bottom and enter her from behind.

His hand kept moving on his member, now standing at full mast from his attention.

In his mind, though, Kylie phased in and out. Her hair darker, her curves smaller and firmer. The voice sounded more like her, the other. It was reaching a point where he wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking, what he was wanting. He just had a need.