The Librarian

CLOSED FOR EESOME BEASTIE AND NEVERWINTERNITE

Name: Mark Stevens
Age: 29
Description: 5 foot 10 tall, medium build, light brown hair and a ready smile. Blue eyes. Dresses smart casual to work, with suit jacket but open-necked shirts and no tie.
Bio: Mark has worked hard to become senior librarian at Marden town library, maybe too hard as his girlfriend of three years left him two months ago, saying he didn’t pay enough attention to her.

http://insulitehawaii.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/businessman.JPG

Mr Mark Stevens finished reviewing the list of suggestions for new books to buy, ringing a final one that his assistant senior librarian Lucy had recommended with a flourish. Despite cutbacks, there aught to be enough money in the new stock budget for the two dozen books he’d picked. A nice wide-ranging selection too, with something to appeal to all the different types of customer they had.

He swigged down the last of his mid-morning coffee and wondered how the summer student, Emma was getting on. She was here working through her summer holiday to gain experience before she returned to college to finish her degree in librarianship. He’d set her the task of sorting through the boxes of books that had been a bequest from Mrs Anderson, an old lady who was a keen local historian and who had willed her collection of books to the town library. She’d passed away three weeks ago, and her executor had just had the boxes delivered yesterday morning. He’d asked Emma to weed out those that were duplicates of books already in stock, then prepare a computer record for each of the others and finally to sort them into those interesting enough to go on the Local History shelves and those to stay in reserve stock. She’d only been at the task since yesterday afternoon, but he thought he should check that she was managing okay.

He took the stairs down to the reserve stock rooms in the basement. The air was slightly stagnant here, and the smell of books hung heavier than up in the public areas. He loved that smell – it was part of what had drawn him into this profession.

Passing between the shelves, he entered the small office where Emma was working, surrounded by open boxes and piles of old books. Her back was towards him, but he could see she had a book open and was reading avidly, a finger twisting through her long blonde hair in a most endearing way.

She was rather cute, he thought. Her tight jeans outlined a small but beautifully rounded butt, and all manner of inappropriate thoughts flashed through his mind, amplified by his two months of abstinence since his girlfriend had left him.

“Hi, Emma! I just wanted to check how you were doing down here. You know you’re just meant to be cataloguing them, not reading each one through!”

He tried to keep his tone light, so she’d understand it as a gentle tease and not a rebuke.

Emma turned around, her long blonde hair whipping around her shoulder. She was startled by his voice and hadn’t expected for her boss to check up on her that soon.

Emma let out laugh and answered.

“Oh, I know Mr. Stevens. I can’t help myself around books,” as her fingers flipped through the rest of the pages.

She was a bit embarrassed to be caught off guard by him but she tried not to show it. When she peered into his blue eyes, she saw his amusement and a flicker of something else.

She had a feeling he was checking out her body when her back was turned because she had done the same to him when he wasn’t looking. She enjoyed watching how tight his shirt hugged his body, accentuating his sculptured torso. Usually, her eyes would trail down his body to peek at his slight bulge, which was quite visible now.

A slight blush reached her cheeks as she apologized.

“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again.”

She could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn't really that angry but still she wanted to make sure he knew she was sorry for what she had done.

Mark decided to let her apology go without comment. He didn’t want it to seem as if he was making an issue of it.

“So what do we have here, then?” he asked, eyes flicking down from her face to the book she had open on the bench.

He stepped up to the work surface and lifted the cover. It was a history of some of the old moneyed families in the area, a work that the library already had a copy of. But there were yellowed sheets of paper inserted in it, bearing a rather spidery faded old-fashioned handwriting. It was one of these sheets that Emma had been reading.

He bent to read it himself. Emma’s hair swung forward as they both examined the discoloured paper and he caught the scent of her shampoo. For a brief moment he was tempted to lean in closer and revel in the smell of her, but he forced himself to concentrate.

“Those look like letters between the author and members of the families he was writing about. That’s quite a find. We should certainly catalogue these and let the town archives know about them.”

He smiled at her, genuinely pleased at this discovery.

“But they’re old and we need to handle them properly. I’ll show you how.”

He was only too pleased to help this eager young wannabe librarian learn. And if it meant spending more time alone with her, then that was a bonus.

“Firstly, I’m glad to see you’re using pencil, not ink,” he commented, nodding at her notebook on the bench. “Your lecturers have taught you that much. But if we’re going to do anything more than the most cursory handling of the letters we should be wearing clean cotton gloves too. There are some over here.”

He stepped away from the bench and turned towards a cupboard. Instinctively, his arm went round Emma’s back to guide her in the right direction, his hand settling just above her far hip.

As soon as he realised what he’d done, he yanked his hand away, blushing, flustered.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Patterson, that was quite inappropriate of me!”

- - - - - - - - -

OOC: I've sneakily given your character a surname, since I think Mark would use it here to try and reintroduce a bit of professionalism. If you don't like my choice, I can edit.

Emma didn't mind that Mr. Stevens put his hand on her back. She thought it was quite nice actually.

"Mr. Stevens, it's okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about," as she smiled at him.

She reached for the clean cotton gloves at the same time as Mr. Stevens. Their hands met for that brief moment and she felt a spark.

A blush rushed up her cheeks. She could definitely feel a sexual chemistry between them.

"Here's your gloves, Mr. Stevens."

She passed him a pair and got to work on putting hers on.

"So, what do we next?"

Mark unfolded the first of the letters. The paper was yellowed and stiffened with age, but not too fragile and thankfully the handwriting was good even if the ink had faded to a dark brown.

"If you could summarise the collection of letters, the range of dates covered and the different correspondants, that would be a great help."

He was enjoying being close to Emma. Rather too much, as her scent constantly distracted him and made him aware of a hardening within his trousers.

"I'll let you get on with it, then," he added, taking off the gloves and placing a hand briefly on her shoulder before turning and walking for the door, glad that his back was to her to hide his growing arousal.

- - - - - - -

Back in his office he threw himself into his work to distract himself from the thought of inhaling the scent of her hair.

Maybe he'd take a coffee down to her mid-afternoon. There surely wouldn't be any harm in that...

"Sure thing, Mr. Stevens."

She replied, beginning to organize herself so she could get her work done.

She didn't want him to leave as she enjoyed his company but she didn't know what to say to keep him there.

So, she watched as he walked out but was surprised how fast he left.

"I wonder..." she pondered but she didn't have time complete her thought as her attention returned to the work at hand.

Two hours later, Mark pushed open the door to the basement once again.

"How are you getting on, Emma?" he asked. "I've brought you some coffee," he added, setting two mugs on an unused workbench well away from any books or papers and settling himself down on a stool. "Why don't you come over and take a break?"

He'd been thinking of her all afternoon - distracted by thoughts of her long silky blonde hair and of how she'd felt when he'd brushed against her. He knew it was dangerous to come back down here alone, but he just couldn't help himself.

Emma turned her head around when she heard Mark's voice.

"I'm doing okay Mr. Stevens," she replied, putting down her pencil. "I'm almost finished actually." She noticed the coffee in his hands. "Well, you can check it after and tell me what you think."

She peeled off her gloves and was glad to have this coffee break with him. She walked over to the workbench and sat on the stool next to him.

She wrapped her hand around her mug, a comfortable silence settling between them. She had thought about Mark the whole day but she had to remind herself there was work to be done.