Laboratory Love Read online

  Laboratory Love

  By Chrystal Wynd

  Copyright 2016 Chrystal Wynd

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  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  This story is owned and copyrighted by author Chrystal Wynd.

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

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  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 1

  The explosion was sudden.

  Simon and I dove for cover as the detonation blew razor-sharp shrapnel in all directions. I hit the ground and rolled, heart beating in my throat. Heads down, we waited as the patter of landing debris slowed, then finally stopped.

  After several heartbeats of silence, we cautiously raised our heads. All clear. Simon and I slowly got to our feet.

  I was not happy.

  “How difficult can it be,” I said, looking at the smoking remains of the shattered beaker, “to make the perfect anti-wrinkle cream?”

  My lab partner and fellow cosmetic chemist Simon Cormick brushed debris from his dark, shaggy hair. “If it was that easy, Corine,” he said, reaching for the tiny fire extinguisher clamped to the lab table, “it would already be done. That’s why Blonde Concepts pays us the big bucks.”

  “Hmmpphh,” I said, making sure the ends of my shoulder-length black hair were unsinged. “Fine. Whatever. And you can put away that fire extinguisher, buster. There’s no fire. Well, not anymore.”

  “I’m just being cautious,” said Simon, holding up his hands defensively. He had great pecs for a scientist. “I did recommend against you adding the zinc.”

  “It seemed like a good idea at the time,” I said, waving smoke from my face.

  “Maybe,” said Simon, “but then you added the rest of the periodic table.”

  “That was for flavor.”

  “It’s a topical ointment.”

  “Maybe they want a tasty topical ointment for those more romantic moments.”

  Simon chuckled, his brown eyes rolling. “Look, Corine, you have to be patient, okay? You’re a good chemist. Super creative. But you really need to learn patience.”

  I scowled at the multitude of chemicals and beakers. Patience was for those with nothing better to do than wait around for something to happen.

  “Whatever,” I said.

  “Anyway, let’s get this mess cleaned up and get back to work,” said Simon, wiping soot from his cheek. “After all, the Blonde Concepts spring line isn’t going to produce itself.”

  *****

  Twenty minutes later, we had cleared the debris and were working on our actual assignment…the Blonde Concepts spring line of cosmetics.

  Or at least Simon was. I was busy trying to figure out a way to get Simon to ask me out this weekend. Or any weekend. But Doctor Brainiac was too busy playing with his chemicals to notice me. Whatever.

  I switched my attention back to the liquid lipstick we were discussing.

  “Let’s try adding a little more Eosin,” he said.

  “Eosin?” I said. “We’re going for cutting edge fashion here, not last summer.”

  Simon glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “You didn’t strike me as a fashionista, Corine.”

  I snorted. “I couldn’t care less about fashion,” I said. “That’s for vapid socialites. But I’m all for raising the bar on cosmetic innovation. Let’s add some chrystalmic-based pigment.”

  Simon laughed. “Those vapid socialites help pay our salary, Corine. And you’re out of your mind if you think I’m going to start experimenting with chrystalmic anything,” he said. “Nobody’s used that plant for cosmetic pigment before. Or for anything, for that matter. You don’t just start tossing in stuff to see what color it turns into.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I know they’re still poking it with sticks, but that stuff’s perfect for lipstick. Heck, perfect for a lot of cosmetics. Good consistency, handles heat extremes well, non-acidic…”

  “Non-combustible?”

  “C’mon, Simon,” I said, grinning. “Live a little! Besides, we need something new and innovative for the spring line.”

  “I agree,” said Simon, “but we’ll stick to the more traditional collection of polymers, oils, pigments and chemicals, okay?”

  “Fine,” I said. “Play it safe. Whatever.”

  Simon shook his head. “You’re awfully cynical for someone barely out of college, Corine.”

  “I’ve been out of college for over three years,” I said, “and you know it, so stop. At least I’m not afraid to try thinking outside the box, Old School.”

  Simon sighed. He was only a year or two older than me, but he had been hired by Blonde Concepts right after graduation, while I was still a relatively new hire. He was an experienced lab scientist while I still barely rated above the lab techs. He was old-school watch-and-wait and I was new-school make-it-happen.

  He had great shoulders for an old-school guy, though. Oh, yes.

  “Look, New School, I’m hungry,” he said, brushing his shaggy hair away from his eyes. He always seemed to need a haircut. "I’m going to go eat some lunch.”

  I waited, hoping he’d ask me to go with him, but he just gave me a nod and exited the room. That left me alone in the lab.

  “Fine,” I mumbled. “Fine!”

  Suddenly my cell phone sounded. A text message from Simon! Perhaps he had changed his mind?

  I read the text, then sighed. He was going to drop off some patent applications after lunch, so he wouldn’t be returning to the lab today.

  Frustrated, I looked over our notes. What the hell was wrong with him?! It’s not like I was ugly and I knew there was no way at all that Simon was looking for a stupid Barbie doll. He just wasn’t that shallow.

  He wanted intelligence. He wanted someone with ability. Someone not afraid to take chances, dammit! But he was never going to find anyone playing with chemicals all day.

  Then I got an idea.

  “He needs to see innovation in action,” I said to myself, nodding. “I'll show Doctor Play-It-Safe how innovation works!”

  *****

  I opened my notebook and worked out a quick formula. I ran a counter-equation as a triangulation check and then another until I was satisfied with the ratios. I moved some things over, re-balanced my equations, worked in a few more calculations, then added the wildcard. A few more test runs confirmed it.

  I finally sat back satisfied. This could work. I would make this work.

  I began preparations.

  The adventure began as I selected a range of common and not-so-common elements. A touch of this and a dab of that. I mixed colors and combined mediums. A little lanolin, a lot of castor oil. Some beeswax and a touch of perfume. And along with everything else, treated chrystalmic pigment #1 bonded with oils and a chrystalmic polymer joined the party. I also added enough neutral material that the ratio of chrystalmic would actually register as relatively low.

  And yes, I included a few counter-agents for stabilization as well. I wasn’t a complete idiot and I wasn’t blind to the dangers inherent in using a relatively unknown compound.
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  I carefully noted the process and the ratios in my notebook as I mixed my compounds, although I was careful to use modified codes for the chrystalmic ingredients. My notebook was technically the property of Blonde Concepts and although Dr. Banford was unlikely to look through my notes for any reason short of a process patent application, it didn’t hurt to be cautious. Clandestine experiments performed by junior scientists tended to be frowned upon.

  The process was dragging now and not nearly as much fun as it had been earlier. Finally, however, a large beaker containing my philosopher’s stone was placed on a Bunsen burner. It wouldn’t be long now.

  My new creation gently swirled, liquefied by the heat. The color was developing into a breathtaking red, although the end hue was uncertain until the compound cooled. It was unlikely that I had gotten it right on the first try- this was a whole new cosmetic- but the thrill of creation gave me a rush. This is what science was all about! Not standing around, plugging in the same old formulas, doing the same thing over and over again. Creation. Discovery!

  I poured a small amount of the cooling liquid from the beaker into a small test tube and set the test tube into a wooden rack. Then I sat on a wooden stool, opened my spiral notebook and updated my notes as I played the waiting game.

  Fortunately I didn’t have to wait long. I was already standing when the digital gauge finally flipped to the target temperature. It was show-time.

  *****

  The color was a bright, lustrous, liquid red. Classic movie star red, but more so. I wear very little makeup myself- I leave that to bimbos and silly adolescents- but the teenagers would be fighting over this one and I could see why. I had possibly struck cosmetic gold with this one.

  I got a very thin, very fine paintbrush. I stirred the thick liquid, then nodded, satisfied with the consistency. I positioned a small mirror on the lab table in front of me and angled it so I could see my mouth. Then I dipped the brush once more into the compound, took a deep breath and drew the brush across my lower lip.

  I waited several seconds, but there was no reaction. No burning, no odd smell, no strange tastes, nothing. I pressed my lips together, but still no worrisome sensations. I hadn’t expected any issues- chrystalmic had already been proven safe for casual human contact and ingestion- but it was still an anxious moment. Fortunately everything seemed fine.

  Mentally shrugging, I dipped the brush into the thick color once more and then proceeded to layer my lips with the thick, rich lipstick.

  My lips came to life in the mirror. Matched against my raven-black hair, the contrast made my face glow. Granted, I felt silly- bright red lipstick was not my choice of color ever- but regardless, the shade was a definite success. The spring line for Blonde Concepts had a potential flagship color ready to go already! This was big.

  I ran a finger gently over my lower lip, then checked my fingertip. No residue. I did it again, harder this time. Still no color on my finger. Picking up a Styrofoam cup, I pressed my lips firmly on the rim, then held the cup in front of me. No smeared residue on the lip of the cup at all. Despite being fully and completely dry, the lipstick remained looking glossy and freshly-applied.

  After several seconds of gazing at the mirror, I finally registered a slight tingling in my lips. Not a bad tingling- certainly not painful- but a low grade tingle covering my entire lip surface area. I nodded and made some notations in my spiral notebook. Something like that could be worked into marketing.

  I finally glanced at the clock and decided it was time to go home. I had already stayed long past my typical end-of-day.

  It was time for the lipstick to come off. I couldn't let anybody see me wearing it just yet. Making the compound was one thing- curiosity is at the heart of any scientific progress- but actively testing a product without going through protocol was a big no-no. I could let Simon see the chemical concoction, of course, but he couldn’t see me wearing it.

  I pulled a paper towel from a roll and folded it into a square. Despite firmly pressing the paper towel against my lips and then wiping even more forcefully, I was unable to remove any of the color. This shade was proving to be remarkably tenacious. It had a chance at setting a standard for all-day lipstick. I had really created something special here.

  Since paper towels obviously weren’t going to work, it was time to resort to the lab supply of makeup remover. Our business being what it was, our remover formula was stronger than the typical over-the-counter stuff.

  Except that didn’t work either.

  Feeling only slight twinges of apprehension, I slathered makeup remover over my lips, then soaked a sponge and held it against my lips to soak off the aggressively-clinging lip color. Still no go. After several minutes of trying without success, I gave up and started using lesser-known but generally effective methods of removing liquid lip color.

  A generous amount of Vaseline was layered over my lips, but that didn’t even dent the glossy appearance. Several swipes with lip balm did nothing. I tried olive oil and then tried some micellar water. Still nothing. I found some cold cream and even tried that. My lips remained as red and glossy as when I had started.

  Desperation set in.

  Heart pounding, I took a toothbrush and tried scrubbing off the tenacious color. No effect. No effect at all. Despite the harsh treatment of the abrasive toothbrush, my lips looked like I had just applied a fresh layer of the bright, glossy red lipstick.

  I stared at my reflection in disbelief. Until I figured out how to get this lipstick off, I was stuck with a ridiculous slut-red pout. But as embarrassing as that was, the more ominous issue was that I had to get it off before anyone saw me wearing it. If anybody saw me now, I'd end up in trouble or-

  “Corine?”

  I jumped and spun around, heart beating in my throat.

  Dark, shaggy hair. Warm brown eyes.

  Simon.

  ToC

  Chapter 2

  Dammit.

  Normally, seeing Simon outside of normal work hours would be a good thing, but this didn't constitute normal.

  My heart was racing, but I made my face relax. “Simon!” I said. “What are you doing here so late?”

  He shrugged those rugged shoulders. "I just wanted to take a look at that lipstick we were working on," he said. "I thought maybe a little more-"

  Simon stopped and stared at me, his dark eyes thoughtful. At my lips. The attention would have been gratifying any other time.

  “Wow, Corine,” he said. “I’ve never seen you use that color before. Or any color, for that matter. Is that the project we were working on earlier?”

  “Huh?” I said.

  “Your lips,” he said. “Is that color for the spring line?”

  “Oh!” I said, my fingers flying instinctively to my mouth. “No! Not at all! I was just, umm, practicing my pigment mixture. Yeah! Just practicing!”

  I winced internally. My voice sounded strangled even to me.

  Simon looked at me strangely. “Okay,” he said, taking a step back, hands raised defensively. “No problem. Just checking.”

  “Thanks!” I said, praying my voice didn't sound as high-pitched to Simon as it did to me. "Anyway, I was just heading out."

  He raised a hand in farewell. "See you tomorrow then, Corine," he said, his gaze lingering on my bright red lips. Then he turned back toward his workstation.

  I immediately walked toward the exit, heart still pounding. Wow, but that was close. Simon probably wouldn’t notice me even if I grew a beard, but he had noticed my lips. If it caught even Simon’s attention, then everybody was going to notice my slut-red lips. I definitely needed to get this stuff off when I got home.

  Even though I was alone in my car, I felt self-conscious about my red pucker. I ordered a grilled chicken sandwich at a drive-thru and instinctively covered my mouth as I paid at the window. At red lights, I was sure the passengers in other cars were staring at my lips. I felt like I was on display. I had never been so relieved to get home as I was when I pulled into m
y apartment parking lot.

  *****

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered my apartment. I sat down to eat my sandwich. The tingling in my lips was slightly stronger than it had been earlier, but it still wasn't uncomfortable. My belly muscles were strangely warm and my nipples were surprisingly hard. If I hadn't been distracted by stress and anxiety, I'd have been tempted to satisfy myself.

  Strange what anxiety could do to you. Still, adolescents went on dates to horror movies and roller coaster rides because the excitation transfer process often acted as an aphrodisiac. I had had enough stress today to equal five horror movies, so no surprise my body was reacting the way it was.

  I finished my dinner and renewed my assault on my offending lip color. I tried a whole range of home remedies for removing stubborn lipstick. I even resorted to using olive oil from my pantry. Nothing made a dent in the shiny, lustrous appearance. It would probably be the perfect lipstick, but only if the wearer could remove at the end of the night.

  I really wasn't happy. I was going to have to chemically counter-act my lipstick tomorrow. Still, the possibilities were there. I just needed to create a remover for the lipstick.

  And strangely enough, I was still slightly aroused. Nerves, no doubt, but still odd.

  Well, too bad for my hormones. I was going straight to sleep and getting up early. That way I could get to the lab before Simon or anyone else and take care of my embarrassing problem.

  Unfortunately, I overslept.

  *****

  I leaped up with a curse. Despite going to bed early, I'd slept through my alarm. In fact, I still felt groggy and could have gladly gone back to sleep for another three or four hours. But I had miles to go before I slept again.

  I was really late. No shower for me today. I paused briefly as I passed the mirror to check my lips. Still bright red, unfortunately. There was no help for it. I couldn't get it off and I couldn't even tone it down with a less-intense shade. I was going to have to wear it at work and simply hope nobody noticed.