LOST AND FOUND;
What: 50ficlets Table #5, Prompt #19 - Lost and Found
When: 1950's, preCO
Word Count: 468
Warnings: G, spoilers for 1x10
Bishop stopped, closed his eyes and breathed in the heady scent radiating from the woman behind him.
#19 - Lost and Found
"Excuse me, sir?"
A delicate hand reached out and grabbed the edge of Bishop's sleeve.
"I think you dropped this."
Bishop stopped, closed his eyes and breathed in the heady scent radiating from the woman behind him; the ever-clinging hint of copper, the sterility of bleach and other cleaners, and the light haze of shea butter shampoo. When he turned, opened his eyes again, he could smell the coffee on her breath, could almost taste the after-burn of singed hair rolled up in tight curls.
His eyes traveled from her face to her clavicle, and followed the smooth line of her extended arm all the way to the paper slip she held in her hand.
When he didn't react, she waved it once for good measure.
"This fell out of your pocket."
Bishop reached forward, brushed her fingers with his own as he grabbed the folded paper and slid it neatly back into his pocket.
"Thank you," he said softly, then extended his hand.
She gave him a once-over, the sharp eagle-eye of an experienced nurse used to pinpointing the tiniest of details that often saved a man's life, then reached out her hand.
Her grip was firm, and she shook with confidence.
"I'm James Bishop," he said, nodding lightly.
"I'm late for work," she replied, then drew her hand back and breezed past him.
The vampire froze, back stiffened, then turned on his heel and watched her leave.
What a curious human.
It was several days later that he saw her hunched over on one of the park benches, head buried in her long-fingered hands.
It wasn't concern that drove Bishop to seek her out, really. It was intrigue.
The woman seemed to sense his approach, though. Red, watery eyes lifted up long enough to peer at him in bewilderment before her eyelids fell to hide the evidence of her sorrow.
Bishop settled down on the bench beside her; stared patiently at the oak tree winding its way out of the ground.
"I lost him," the woman finally said, the words a shaky sob. "I thought he was better, and I... I lost him."
Bishop tilted his head. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that she was grieving over an insignificant human life, but he could at least understand the essence of her pain. He would probably feel much the same were he to lose one of his own brothers or sisters.
Shrugging, Bishop lifted up.
"Someone else will find him."
He took a few steps down the lightly graveled path, but was stopped by the woman's voice.
"I'm Jane," she said, and Bishop didn't bother to look back.
"I'm late for work."