Title: Dark Place in the Sun III: If Things Were Perfect Author: Amatia Email: beech000@uwp.edu Rating: PG-13, 'cuz Jeff swears to himself. Category: Sc/Sp Archiving: Ferretcage. Others please ask! Note: This follows the "DPS I: Just Call Me Jeff" and "DPS II: Doors and Windows". They can be found at: http://personal.pitnet.net/london/fic.html as well as the Ferretcage. This is for Drovar, because I said it would be! :-) Feedback is worshipped, esp. if I'm ever gonna finish this series... DPS III: If Things Were Perfect by Amatia I was amazed, yet somehow not, to find that Scully could handle chopsticks with incredible dexterity. "I think it's a required thing for the Bureau," she said when she caught me watching. "All the other Agents I know can use them, too." "I'll add that to my list of interesting facts about the FBI," I replied, picking up a piece of broccoli with my own chopsticks and sticking it in my mouth. She rolled her eyes, catching my sarcasm. "You don't seem to quite fit the norm of the Bureau." "I should hope not." At her surprised look, I continued. "Mom always wanted me to work for the government. I think that my dad kind of forced it on her, since he worked for the government as well. And by the time he left, she'd heard it for so long it was second nature for her to push it on me. To be honest, I didn't care either way. I think deep down, I had a little voice telling me that I should do it, because maybe I'd have a job where I could protect Mom. Of course, it didn't turn out that way." "I don't think that anything ever turns out the way we plan it when we're young," she replied. "When I was young, I wanted to be a Navy Captain like my father. That lasted about as long as it took us to move twice, and I realized that maybe I'd rather be a doctor and not have to move." "Why'd you join the Bureau?" I chased a piece of chicken around my plate. Scully reached over and picked it up with her sticks. "Honestly? Rebellion." She grinned at me, then stuck the chicken in her mouth. "Pretty long time to stick with something that was just a rebellion." "Oh, it's not that I don't love my job," she said hurriedly. "At the time, though..." I nodded. "I understand." We ate for a few minutes in silence. Then Scully took a drink of water from her glass, and I took the opporunity to look at her. Not just look, but absorb, and memorize all that I could never have. She was Mulder's, even if they didn't know it, and the last thing I wanted was for Mulder to hate me more. He hated me enough already. "Jeff?" Scully's soft voice broke my revere. "Sorry," I said with a wry smile. "Are you all right?" "I was just thinking." "Mind if I ask about what?" "You and Mulder," I said honestly. She arched an eyebrow. "What about Mulder and me?" "How ironic it is that he despises me, and yet you seem to enjoy my company." "Mulder and I aren't the same person, you know," she teased, reaching out to caress one of the flowers in the vase. "I know," I said apologetically. "I don't think he despises you on a personal level. I think it's because you were the person who tried to keep him from seeing Cassandra." "I had the right to do that." "You did, but I'm not choosing sides, so don't ask." Her tone was serious, but she was smiling. My stomach twisted. "Jeff, how about we not talk about Mulder, or work, for the rest of the night?" "I can deal with that," I replied, "but we'll really have to think hard to come up with something to talk about." Scully popped a mint into her mouth, and set her plate on the side of the table. "I bet we can come up with something. Are you finished?" "Yes. But I want to pay, so don't even suggest it." She tried to frown at me, but failed and smiled instead. "All right." I paid the bill, and we went out into the cool night. "Want to walk for awhile?" she asked. "It's such a nice night." "Sounds good," I replied, smiling at her. She slipped her hand into mine. "Dana?" I questioned softly, my stomach knotting tighter. "I'm glad we're getting to know each other," she said gently. I found I had no voice. Instead, I squeezed her hand. She stood on tiptoe and kissed my cheek, her breath warm on my face. I turned my head, and brushed her lips with mine for a nanosecond. Fuck Mulder and what he thought of me. I would do only what Scully wanted. "C'mon, let's walk." --end-- Email: beech000@uwp.edu ICQ: 56037691 Homepage: http://personal.pitnet.net/london/ AlexWear Brigade: http://uwp.edu/~beech000/index.html "Always Keep A Spare Peter Wingfield Under the Bed" "It's not like I'm on steroids, it's like I'm Duncan McLeod of the Clan McLeod." - my roommate on Duncan's shirtless scene in "Avatar".