Lessons in Chemistry

[taoschild]

Don't know if anyone is watching Lessons in Chemistry on Apple TV with Brie Larson (it's really good), but it got me thinking about writing something that was similar to her character but more in our focus. I've already outlined the whole story and written the first chapter. If folks like it I'll post the whole thing here. Also let me know if you'd like to see something in particular
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The year was 1950, a time when the world was still shrouded in the heavy fog of sexism, particularly within the scientific community. Elizabeth Zott was a striking and determined young chemist, known for her remarkable beauty and intelligence that set her apart. Tiny waist, blonde-haired, and light cerulean eyes she bore the body of a Playboy, but she hardly cared.  Her captivating presence extended beyond her physical appearance, which was defined by elegant features and a confident, enigmatic aura.

She worked at Caltech in one of the most respected laboratories in the country, does despite her dizzying intellect and impeccable credentials she was relegated to lab tech work. Making coffee, cleaning beekers, and catering to the whims of the chemist who were her intellectual inferiors dominated her days. They looked at her as eye candy and she felt trapped in the world of men. She aspired to break free from the traditional roles assigned to women in the era, where they were expected to be homemakers, wives, and mothers, not scientists.

Elizabeth's life took an unexpected turn when she crossed paths with Calvin Evans, a fellow scientist whose intelligence was matched only by his charisma. Calvin was a maverick in the field of chemistry, and like Elizabeth, he had big dreams. Together, they embarked on a journey to challenge the prevailing norms, defying the odds to pursue their passion for scientific discovery.

In a lone corner of the cafeteria, far from the hubbub of the lunch room, they sat quietly together until Elizabeth, matter of factly, began the discussion. "Calvin," she began hesitantly, "I've always been fascinated by the intricacies of molecular chemistry. There's a certain beauty in the equations and the way they dance on the page. Why is it that you appreciate the science?"

Calvin's eyes lit up with enthusiasm, and he responded with a touch of awkwardness, "Oh, you have no idea how much I agree. I mean, you know, molecules, they're like these tiny puzzles that fit together in the grand scheme of the universe. It's...  uh, mesmerizing, really."

Elizabeth suppressed a grin, something she rarely showed, but his love seemed to be a mirrored reflection of her own. "I know exactly what you mean. And I've always believed that science has the power to change the world. To make it a better place."

Calvin nodded in agreement, his smile growing. "Yes, yes, absolutely. Science is like a secret language that only a few of us truly understand. It's our way of decoding the mysteries of the universe, and... each other," he said as his cheeks turned pale pink.

"I've got some idea of some peptides that might make a serum to increase our health and improve our DNA, but unfortunately the structure of this facility doesn't promote women in science."

"Why not? It's just a different chromosome."

"Sexism."

"Here?" he asked with a frown."

"Yes, here," she answered, suppressing a grin. He's cute but a little clueless, she thought.

"Well, why don't you come work for... I mean with me. We can explore the idea together. I'm between projects and would love some inspiration. In their exchange, there was an unspoken understanding, a connection that transcended their social awkwardness. It was as if their minds danced together, effortlessly comprehending the language of molecules and equations, even if they struggled to navigate the complexities of small talk.
Nearly six months later in the dimly lit laboratory, amidst the whirring of machines and the distinct scent of chemicals, Elizabeth and Calvin were huddled over a microscope, their eyes locked on a Petri dish containing a few drops of their experimental serum.

"Calvin, this could change everything," Elizabeth whispered, her usually monotone voice uncharacteristically tinged with excitement.

Calvin responded, "I believe it could, Elizabeth. Our serum has the potential to improve the human race as a whole and maybe shatter the gender bias that has held us back for far too long."

Their shared vision culminated in a revolutionary serum, one that held the potential to reshape the human body, enhancing both muscle growth and vitality at an unprecedented rate.

One warm summer evening, in the privacy of their hidden laboratory, Elizabeth and Calvin decided it was time to test their creation. The subject was 6:30, a loyal and energetic Labrador Retriever, who had been with them through thick and thin. The serum was carefully administered in a fraction of the recommended dose. Over the next few days they watched in anticipation as 6:30's muscles began to grow, and his energy levels soared. It was a resounding success, a breakthrough that held the promise of changing not only their own lives but the world's perception of women in science.

Their joy led to a celebration of laughter, clinking beakers full of alcohol, and dancing to the rhythm of their dreams. The laboratory, bathed in soft, dim light, became a haven where their socially awkward exteriors were shed, revealing the genuine, passionate souls beneath. Elizabeth and Calvin's laughter filled the air, carrying their hopes and aspirations like music, a harmonious symphony that spoke of their shared determination.
However, as the night grew deeper and their joy gave way to the inevitable fatigue, they fell asleep on the lab floor after kissing and exploring each other with passion. "Maybe I could tighten my touche a little for you," Elizabeth whispered, a playful giggle escaping her lips as Calvin's hands explored her curves.

"It feels good right now, but I've already appreciated feminine muscles," Calvin responded, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.
Elizabeth cocked her head and looked at him. "You have?"

"Yeah, why not?" He explained. "It's aesthetically appealing and practical. Women who row, like I do, have incredible backs."

"Hmm, she said, pulling one of his hands up to her pectoral muscles. Well, I do pushups so I think I have more muscle than most women, but I shall endeavor to create more for you both because you like that and it's 'practical.'"

She pulled him in for a kiss, their lips locked in a passionate embrace that conveyed a promise of shared desires and ambitions.

When they broke their kiss, with a gleam in her eye, Elizabeth dipped her finger into the clear liquid they had been celebrating with and sensually traced her lips with it. "Elizabeth," he cried out in warning, "it's untested."

"I'm confident it works," she responded. "I wouldn't have given it to 6:30 if I wasn't. She put her arms on her sides and widened her lats briefly before flexing her biceps. "In a few hours I'll have all those muscles you desire," she grinned.

Calvin couldn't resist the allure of her fit physique. He grabbed her biceps and pulled her closer, their closeness tinged with both affection and desire. Their playful exchange continued, with Calvin's playful tickles leading to bursts of laughter.

Calvin's fingers danced along Elizabeth's toned physique, the subtle flex of her muscles captivating his imagination of what a few ounces of the liquid would do to his already beautiful girlfriend.

Their sense of accomplishment and promises of a future filled with newfound beauty and strength fused with their intimate connection, leading them to make love in the soft, dimly lit laboratory.

Hours later, half-dressed, sore, and feeling because of the alcohol, they decided to head home. Elizabeth who was more sober, drove and Calvin who wanted to walk 6:30 decided to follow on foot. The sky was filled with a tapestry of stars, and a sense of tranquility wrapped around them as they walked along the dimly lit path. The night air was crisp, and the streets were empty, save for the occasional passerby.

However, the wheel of fate can be cruel and unpredictable. Calvin, lost in thought, was struck by a speeding car that had veered out of control. The collision was sudden, chaotic, and unforgiving. The sound of screeching tires and the shattering of glass filled the air, followed by a deafening silence.
In the middle of the night, the news of a tragic accident reached Elizabeth. Calvin Evans, the brilliant scientist, the love of her life. The news shattered their dreams, leaving Elizabeth to grapple with a loss that was too profound to comprehend.

Elizabeth was left to carry their scientific torch alone and find a way to publish their work in a world that still harbored skepticism and discrimination. She knew that her love for Calvin and their shared vision would drive her forward and his legacy, just as much as their achievement, was important to her.

[taoschild]

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[Wookey]

Loving this. K+

[rhmg1977]

K+

[Jaguar]

I love this, I love the plot and scenario.   

[ArkhamAsylum]

I agree with the other comments. This looks like another banger of a story.

[nickolai]

I look forward to more of this.

[taoschild]

Thank you for the positive comments. I had no idea that so many of you were into a slow burn. If you like this, you'll certainly like my novels even better.  I promise the muscle aspect will arrive in full force after this chapter but I'm trying to build some conflict first.
---
Grief hung heavy around Elizabeth's heart after the loss of Calvin. She didn't eat, barely moved, and spent a great part of the day curled up on the sofa in tears. She lost weight and hope. After several days when she was able to drag herself to the laboratory, she found the place that had once been filled with laughter and love now seemed desolate, echoing with emptiness. Her world and the world of science, as she had known it, crumbled around her. For a while, she took time off from work and tried to grapple with her sorrow.

Yet, as days turned into weeks, Elizabeth's financial situation became increasingly dire. She returned to work and found the doors to her lab locked and her key no longer fit. She went to the office but found that the laboratory had let her go.

"I know that this is hard for you," their boss, Bill Winters told her, "but there were certain irregularities between you and Calvin. He was so essential that when he was here I could look the other way, but now that he's gone, your work here is not essential."

Elizabeth was devastated. Unable to respond without tears, she fled the building without a response. A few days later, with her savings dwindling, Elizabeth realized that she had no choice but to confront the reality of her situation. She returned to the lab. She had to seek reinstatement at the laboratory and hope that her research notes, the last traces of their work together, were still intact.

Elizabeth gathered her courage and, in her somber dress, with an air of vulnerability she had not shown before, she walked through the corridors of the laboratory. Her steps were slow and hesitant as if she were walking through a haunted place filled with the ghosts of her dreams.

As she approached the office of her former boss, Bill Winters, she overheard a hushed conversation between him and a junior chemist, Charles Griff.

"Bill, are you sure we can reproduce their serum without her?" Charles's voice quivered with doubt.

Bill's reply was cold and calculating. "We have her research notes, Charles. With or without her, we can make this work. Once we've succeeded, we'll take all the credit, and she'll be nothing but a footnote in history."

Elizabeth's heart sank as she listened to their betrayal. Her research notes, the culmination of countless hours of hard work and dreams shared with Calvin, had been stolen. Anger welled up within her, but so did determination.

She knocked on the door and entered Bill's office, her face a mask of sorrow and despair. Bill and Charles exchanged guilty glances, unaware that she had overheard their conversation.
"Elizabeth, what brings you back here?" Bill feigned innocence.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she had to keep her emotions in check. "It's our work.... How could you? I've come to ask for my job back and I need access to my research notes. They're the only things I have left and you're stealing them from us."

Bill's expression turned smug. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, the research is the property of Hastings and your position has been filled. As for your notes, we'll be taking care of your research from now on."

Elizabeth's resolve hardened as she realized the depth of their betrayal. She went home, walked into the garage, and went to work on Calvin's rowing machine for hours to purge herself of the air of betrayal that clung to her. The rhythmic creaking of the machine echoed her determination, drowning out the lingering echoes of their deceit.

Afterward, sweaty, angry, and determined, she confronted her flushed reflection in the mirror. The pain in her muscles served as a cathartic release. The screaming muscles in her back and biceps were a symbol of her refusal to be broken by their treachery. She vowed to fight for what was rightfully hers. The stolen serum held the potential to transform lives, and she couldn't allow it to be exploited for the selfish gains of a select few-- the deceitful, sexist few.

The battle had just begun, and Elizabeth was ready to take it head-on and confront whatever challenges lay ahead. She would protect her work and honor Calvin's memory with every ounce of strength she could muster. The muscle pain was symbolic of a renewed vitality that would propel her as she embarked on the uphill journey to reclaim what was rightfully hers. The ache became a promise to herself that she would emerge from this stronger, both physically and emotionally.

[stevebasic]

Great entry- I for one lllllove the slow burn. Looking forward to what you have next!

[phil123]

Great start and I hope she gets the max out of the formula.

[Wookey]

Loving this K+

[taoschild]

Thanks for the positive comments, guys. They've kept me going on this one even though I'm swamped with work and finishing my newest novel (I think my best) entitled The Courtesan of Whitechapel. It's a detective novel with a Jack the Ripper copy cat and an investigator and his lovely and built courtesan trying to solve the mystery. It should hbe out soon.

------
With the stolen notes and the betrayal of her former colleagues, Elizabeth felt like she had lost not just her true love, but her entire world. Sorrow surrounded her, but now it was chastened by a goal— to reproduce the notes and sell them to another organization. Her life became a frantic race to re-create their notes and make the serum
In her search for solace and a means to channel her emotions in between her work, she turned to exercise as a form of therapy. The rowing machine that once belonged to Charles became her refuge, a place where she could pour her anguish and frustration into each rhythmic stroke. The monotonous but meditative motion of the machine allowed her to focus her thoughts and emotions, creating a brief respite from the torment of her grief.

With each pull of the machine's handle, she could feel the soreness in her muscles intensify, a physical manifestation of the pain that had gripped her heart. Yet the sensation provided a sense of control and purpose. It reminded her that her body could still respond to effort, even when her spirit felt shattered. The soreness showed that she was still capable of feeling and that her body could respond to her efforts. For the first time in her life, Elizabeth felt alive and strengthened by the physical world rather than just academia.

As Elizabeth continued her exercises, the soreness gradually transformed into growth. Her once underutilized muscles began to respond to the consistent physical demands she placed upon them. Once straight up and down, despite her incredibly tiny waist, her lats swelled with growth. Little bumpy outcroppings on her lats turned into lines and eventually swells of thicker muscles. It created a captivating V-shaped contour that accentuated her broadened shoulders and tiny waist. Simultaneously, her biceps underwent a similar transformation. Her thin wiry arms gained definition and size. As she flexed, the fibers beneath her skin rippled. Her already thin core tightened too and abdominal muscles carved themselves into a defined six-pack. Elizabeth marveled at the changes taking place within her body, a scientific fascination mixed with a deep sense of accomplishment.

Elizabeth had always had an obsessive side to her personality, forgoing the social scene and throwing herself into her work. Now, she threw herself headlong into her exercise. "Grow baby, grow," she whispered toward her back as she completed the umpteenth rep on the rower at the highest calibration. The words became a mantra that echoed her determination.
The sensation of her muscles growing and strengthening brought a glimmer of hope, a whisper of redemption in the darkness that surrounded her. In the repetition of exercise, she found a sense of purpose, a path toward regaining control over her life.

As she stood slick with sweat, gazing proudly at her widened back in the mirror, Elizabeth beheld a metamorphosis. In the soft glow of the room, the rivulets of sweat highlighted the contours of her muscles. The sweeping arc of her muscles and the beautiful symmetry of her growing frame.

Elizabeth's resilience and intelligence also began to shine through in the face of adversity. A cooking column she penned for the Los Angeles Times became her lifeline, and it started to bring in some much-needed income. As she poured her heart and soul into each recipe and article, the world started to take notice. Her culinary expertise began to attract readers from all walks of life.

Through her cooking column, Elizabeth was able to make ends meet. The fan mail warmed her heart and helped her rediscover a sense of purpose. Her writing became a source of joy and a connection to the world outside her kitchen. It was in these moments, while experimenting with ingredients and flavors, that she began to regain a sense of control over her life.
As she started to accumulate some savings from her newfound writing career, Elizabeth concocted a plan. She would build a secret laboratory in her own home, where she could continue her research away from prying eyes. The kitchen that once held memories of shared laughter and meals with Calvin would now serve as the birthplace of her scientific rebirth.
One evening, while she was cleaning up her kitchen laboratory, the doorbell rang. Startled, she opened it to find Bill Hastings and Charles Griff standing there, a menacing glint in their eyes.

"Elizabeth, we've come for your missing notes," Bill declared, his voice dripping with malevolence.

Elizabeth stammered an answer, "I told you, I don't have them. You took everything I had left."

Charles stepped forward, his demeanor threatening. He shoved her roughly against the wall, and her head banged against it. She winced in pain but didn't yield to their intimidation. She pushed him back knocking him temporarily off balance. She barely had time to grin and reflect on her newfound strength before his fist connected with her abdomen and sent her sliding to the floor. Bill winced nonetheless as his hand struck her chiseled abdomen.

"Elizabeth," Bill hissed, shaking out his hand. "I hate to do that to a woman, but this is serious. We've consulted our lawyers. We're going to sue you for the missing notes. You better hand them over if you know what's good for you."

Elizabeth, her resolve unbroken, stared up at him with defiance in between the tears in her eyes. "I don't have the notes, and you won't get anything from me."
"You'd better give us something, Bill said, kicking her softly in warning."

Finally, suppressing a smirk, she decided to give them something that might get them off her back and set them on the wrong course. "Fine, I'll give you a piece of advice. Follow the path of chemical synthesis starting with a high concentration of strontium chloride. It's a critical element for muscle growth. Add that to your experiments."

Bill and Charles exchanged a triumphant glance, believing they had finally broken Elizabeth. Little did they know that her advice was a dead-end, a wild goose chase designed to protect her work.

As they left her home, Elizabeth knew that the real battle had just begun. She was determined to recreate the serum in her hidden kitchen laboratory before they discovered that her advice was nothing but a clever ruse. Danger and uncertainty loomed but she sought both justice and an opportunity to preserve the legacy of her love, Calvin.

[Wookey]

Love.  Love. Love. Karma ++++

[wowser1016]

Great work. Really liking this. K+!

[phil123]

Getting great and now she starts growing.

[taoschild]

I've radically edited this and will eventually put this together into a short story archive after I finish up with the Courtesan of Whitechapel. But, for those of you following this I can't leave you hanging with the original version so here is another part. Happy early Thanksgiving everyone.
---

As Elizabeth worked tirelessly to assemble her secret laboratory. A letter in the mail demanding the delivery of the papers to an unknown address only fueled her rush. The letter was signed in Cyrillic handwriting. Could the Russians know what she had produced or was it another attempt to uncover information by Hastings and Griff? 

The letter, bearing the weight of uncertainty, only fueled Elizabeth's determination to complete her clandestine laboratory. The hidden space took shape in the heart of her home, a sanctuary carefully crafted to shield her work from prying eyes. It became a haven where she could not only continue her scientific pursuits but also rekindle the memories of Charles, whose presence lingered in the shadows of her mind.

Within the confines of her hidden laboratory, Elizabeth delved into the intricacies of their initial serum's composition. The formula, a carefully balanced amalgamation of peptides, enzymes, and proprietary compounds, held the key to transforming cellular structures at a fundamental level. The goal was clear: enhance cellular vigor, reverse the effects of aging, and stimulate muscle growth at an unprecedented rate. Microscopes revealed the microscopic world of cellular activity, while centrifuges whirred in the background, separating vital components with precision. She recovered much of their shared knowledge but had to work from scratch on several areas of the formula. The math seemed to work but there was still uncertainty when she reached the end of the experiment.

Any hesitation was removed the following day when another letter arrived with specific threats. Elizabeth realized her only protection would be herself and that the day had finally arrived to test the serum she had spent countless hours perfecting. It wasn't ethical to test the compound on anyone else, anyways so she had no choice but to be her own first subject.
With a calculated dose, Elizabeth ingested the serum, and the transformative effects were set in motion. A liquid warmth spread through her insides, and she felt a rush of exhilaration, like a gentle, empowering tide washing over her. It was more than a subjective sensation; it signaled a cascade of molecular reactions. Mitochondria, the cellular powerhouses, experienced a surge in activity, leading to increased energy production. Telomeres, the protective caps on chromosomes, were targeted for preservation, potentially slowing down the aging process at a genetic level-- but there was so much more.

As the initial surge of energy coursed through Elizabeth's veins, she reveled in the newfound vitality that accompanied the experimental elixir. It felt like she could lift a house. However, the euphoria was short-lived, and a wave of exhaustion swiftly overcame her. The rapid transition from exhilaration to fatigue left her drained, both physically and mentally. In a state of profound weariness, Elizabeth found herself virtually crawling to her bedroom, each stride an arduous effort.

Finally, she collapsed on her bed. Her body felt heavy and unresponsive. Every muscle seemed to protest against the unexpected strain, and she lay there, unable to muster the strength to move. Doubt crept into Elizabeth's thoughts. Something has gone terribly awry with the experiment, she surmised, just before succumbing to a deep yet fitful sleep.

Elizabeth's dreams were filled with visions of her transformation. In her slumber, it was as if she could feel her body undergoing a remarkable change, an internal awakening that promised a new beginning.

In the sanctuary of her dreams, her subconscious mind painted a vivid canvas of her desires and ambitions. She was enveloped by a serene, ethereal light, a soft glow that seemed to emanate from within. She saw Calvin stroking her hair and telling her he loved her and that she was going to be alright. The dream illuminated her being and her muscles responded to the call of her imagination.

As the dream played out, Elizabeth felt her muscles beginning to swell and grow. It was an awe-inspiring sensation that pulsed throughout her entire body. The dormant potential within her was awakened, and she could feel her muscles expanding, pressing against the fabric of her pajamas. The soft, worn fabric strained against the newfound power that surged within her. "I told you I liked a fit woman," Calvin grinned, kissing her on the forehead before beginning to fade away.

"No!" She cried out as he began to shimmer and disappear as if moving into the distance. But try as she might to move, she was unable to convince her muscles to allow her to do anything. Even her heartbeat felt strained.

He looked back at her and grinned. "Don't worry, you'll be okay. I'll be with you. And tomorrow---remember."

She moaned but couldn't move. Instead, in her dreams, her limbs became more defined, each muscle group asserting itself with strength and vitality. The contours of her arms, once graceful and delicate, now displayed the unmistakable presence of newfound power. Her legs, encased in her pajama bottoms, grew more substantial, each muscle fiber contributing to a growing sense of physicality.

As she slept, Elizabeth's chest and back underwent a profound transformation. The delicate curves she had known before were replaced by a muscular solidity that spoke of her inner strength. Her pajama top seemed to tighten around her expanding chest, stretching some of the buttons and sending others cascading around the room. Once comfortably loose, now hugged her body with a newfound tightness.

With each breath, her abdominal muscles engaged, causing her pajama top to cling tighter to her midsection as her waist became smaller and more defined. The contours of her body were evolving, striking a delicate balance between power and grace.

Even in her dreams, the sensation was exhilarating. Elizabeth marveled at the newfound strength she felt coursing through her veins. She twisted her biceps into a deep flex and marveled at the monument to power. Her size and definition pushed the boundaries of what seemed physically possible. The dreamscape became a manifestation of her determination and desire, a visual representation of her pursuit of strength and resilience.

As she continued to sleep, her body underwent a profound metamorphosis, and she awoke the next morning feeling invigorated, as if the dream had transcended the confines of her subconscious and left an indelible mark on her physical being.