"There you are." Querl walks into lab number... he isn't even sure at this point and makes a beeline for Lena. "I've been looking for you all day."
"Why didn't you check my schedule?"
"I did. It says lab. That's a bit vague."
"Oh, true. You should have asked Jessica."
"Jessica has a day off."
Lena's eyes widen comically under her safety goggles. "She can do that?"
"Apparently. Anyway, now that I found you, I wanted to ask you about—"
"Quantum entanglement."
"What? No. Well... what?"
Lena picks up a pair of safety glasses, hands them to him, and gestures to the side with her head. "We're doing an experiment on quantum entanglement. Care to sit in?"
"That is a fascinating subject."
"Oh, it is." They move over to an elaborate display of circuits, lights, and wires. "As you know, there are four forms of entanglement. There's an entanglement from birth, but experiments with photons are tricky since, by definition, they're always moving. You can counteract this with second generation entanglement by directing the photons at, say, a pair of atoms. There's always accidental entanglement, of course, but today we'll be experimenting on entanglement by interaction."
"Entanglement by... interaction?"
"Yes, the best part of the previous method, that the ions are always separated, is what leads us here. Just bring the two together and let them interact in such a way that the final states of the two particles depend on each other. After all, isn't that the essential meaning of what an entangled state is? Isn't that the sheer beauty of it?"
Querl slides his safety glasses off his face, and his mind races. It goes back over years, decades, centuries of interaction. They've had a working relationship that's formed into a friendship, or so he thought. The vying for targets, gentle ribbing, jokes, and even sly winks have been part of a slow spiral that they both walked closer, closer, closer to each other until it became a dance so natural it was like breathing.
"I'm a fool."
"Oh, hardly, but if you have questions on quantum entanglement—"
"I have to leave."
"Right now?"
"I have to see Nia." He tosses the glasses on the table as he strides away. "There's something very important I need to tell her!"
"Querl, wait!" Lena hurries after him and pulls an envelope from her pocket, sliding it into his hand as she smiles. "There's a meteor shower tonight. Kara and I had tickets to a viewing that the planetarium is putting on at their skyline restaurant, but she said she's going to be working late following up on a lead. I'd hate to let these go to waste. Why don't you and Nia take them."
He folds his hand over hers just for a moment, pressing the envelope between them, and nods. "Thank you." Then he's gone. He's decades too late in doing this. He's not going to wait another moment.
When Nia isn't at work, Querl is disappointed but not put off. He tries her favorite ice cream shop, then another, and another, and another. He hits all of her favorite local stores and sights, but it's hours later, and he's seen neither hide nor hair of Nia Nal. He even stops by her apartment and confirms that he likes neither country nor western music. It's nearly five o'clock when he bursts through the doorway of his place, a man on a mission.
"Nia Nal, where are you!?"
"Querl?" her voice comes back quietly from somewhere in her bedroom area.
He strides with purpose, pausing momentarily when she isn't immediately visible. Then motion through the window catches his eye. There, out on the balcony, Nia sits. He finds her with a mostly empty container of ice cream in hand, the melted remnants hiding the tip of the spoon. There's an empty container off to the side, and her work clothes are discarded on the bed as she's changed into something comfortable. She looks back at him and pauses 'Accidentally in Love' by Counting Crows on her Spotify. It's one of thirty-three songs on her 'When Did This Happen?' playlist. He climbs through the window, heart pounding in his chest as he searches for the words that have escaped him all the years.
"I looked everywhere for you. I went to your work. Most of the ice cream shops in National City. Everywhere."
"I have a cell phone. You have a cell phone."
"... sprok. Look that doesn't matter." He sits next to her, his entire posturing softening as he stares at her. "I've been looking for you forever."
"Like I said, you should have called."
"No, Nia," he slides his hand over hers and smiles, "I've been looking for you... forever."
"Oh." She turns her hand over, intertwining her fingers with his. "Well, I guess you found me."
"I guess I did."
"Now what?"
"Honestly? I don't have a clue. What's the old saying the human's have? 'Those who can't do, teach.' I feel like I've been teaching this for so long that I don't know how to do it."
She nods and slides a bit closer to him. "I understand exactly how you feel. Maybe we can figure it out together."
"I'd like that, whatever this is, I'd like to do it together with you."
She looks away, a shy gesture that makes his smile grow, and says, "I ate all your ice cream... again."
"I buy it for you. That's why it's always your favorite flavors. It makes you smile."
"You make me smile," she replies, meeting his gaze again. "You with your deliberate ways, crazy plans, and spectacular mind. I've never met another Cupid like you."
"You always said that was a good thing."
"It is. I like my Cupids unique."
She runs her free hand along his face, a gentle touch that makes him tremble across every surface of his skin down to the tips of his wings. He's existed for countless lifetimes, but this one simple gesture will stay with him for countless more. Nia leans in, her face moving ever closer as it tilts to the side, and he matches her.
Then his eyes widen, and he pulls away. "Wait!"
"Wait? Really?"
"This," he says, pulling the envelope from his pocket. "I want to do this with you."
"It's paper."
"Inside there are tickets to a dinner and a meteor showing viewing. I want you to go with me tonight."
"Querl, are you asking me out?"
"Yes. Nia, will you go on a human date with me tonight?"
She leans back, her smile slowly growing. "I thought you'd never ask."