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Insidious in Purpose >> Scott Smith X Reader

Title: Insidious in Purpose

Paring: Scott Smith X Reader

Warnings: features death threats, canon-typical violence, fluff, lesbians...basically what your average episode of Orphan Black consists of. 

Spoilers: might be some. Set in S03. 

Author's Note: I'm not sure if this is the first X Reader with Orphan Black, because I've been searching. If it is -- yay! If it isn't, please tell me where they are hidden!!! I am on a huge binge at the moment of the show preparing for the new season and I need my cuties!

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When Scott Smith and you first met, it was a collision. You had been in such a rush to keep on time for the meeting you had, you'd only barely glanced at him, helped him pick up his papers, and go off on your way. The second time you'd met, it was just as smooth as the last time. But rather than having a physical collision, it was with words, and the two of you had been a stammering, stutter-y mess upon realising who the other one was. But all was well – because just like the Canadians you were, you started a sort of apology war, trying to say sorry enough to erase the embarrassment of past events.

It was a match made in Dyad, someone had remarked (you couldn't remember who had) – apart from the fact that the two of you just clicked like ballpoints and pens, your research labs were in the same wing. Which made it super easy to just nip around, and drop off little things to help compensate for knocking into him, and he'd drop off coffee, and sometimes in lunch breaks, hang out. But after at least a month of it, you had to try and get the poor guy to stop atoning for the rest of his waking life, and considered unlocking the enigma of Scott Smith, and what he studied. It turned out that he was just as much as a geek as you were, what, with his social media a litany of Star Trek and Battlestar Galactica. He hated paperwork, but loved his job. But, while he was a geneticist working on super top-secret shit, you were just...a lab assistant. Basically, an over glorified PA, if anyone were to look at the receipts of exactly how much coffee you fetched for people who you weren't aware of their work. 

Basically, it would seem he was a soulmate. To you, obviously. You guys just got along beyond anything you'd ever experienced.

But today, as you were nipping into his lab for a moment to use their toilet (whoever had used your lab's loo had left it in a mess worthy of macrobiologist, or a scatologist to come around and test to their heart's content). It should have been alright, you were quite desperate, and wouldn't look at any of their research.

But that was when you met Cosima.

And screamed bloody murder.

It should be noted that you were a graduate of St. Thomas High School, and had been a friend of the ex-cheerleader named Alison Hendrix. And the lady who was wearing a sort of Caribbean Rasta chic style clothes before you looked precisely like your childhood friend. Minus the bangs.

And that was the story of your transfer between labs to keep the classified information secret. Not that it wasn't a bit kind of romantic, being pressured to be reassigned due to the iron-clad privacy surrounding the LEDA girls. But it was lovely. Kind of great, come to think of it. Mainly because you had the opportunity of being around actual science and sort of understanding it, and the guy you were going steady with. But that story done, brings you to today, where you are sitting beside Scott, reading a checklist of all the materials he needed to order for the next shipment out for supplies. Sure, it was a menial task, but it wasn't like Dyad was made of sample slides and microscopes. Well, they were. They just liked to withhold from your sector if they could get away with it (and often did).