by
Merri Todd Webster
DISCLAIMER: Characters mentioned herein belong to Paramount and to Fox.
However, they have this odd habit of talking to me. . . Not exactly a
characters' revenge story; something of a crossover; definitely a
"You can't go home until you write this." I guess the Boys
are a little less busy with the baby. . .
Archive at R'rain's and the PKSP site.
---
"So when do I get my chance with Agent Scully?"
It's a quiet Friday at the library where I work. We are closed to the
public, alas, but it's a great opportunity for me to use the computer
to write, print, surf, etc. When I look up from the terminal on our office
mezzanine, I see Harry leaning on the edge of the partition that shields
me from the world. His arms are folded over his chest, and he is smiling
faintly.
I recover from my surprise with admirable speed. "Tired of
Paris?"
"I hope not," Tom says, coming up beside Harry and looping an
arm around his friend and lover's shoulder.
Harry turns and plants a quick kiss on Tom's cheek, then favors me
with a smile that causes a small warm puddle to form on the seat beneath
me. "I just like redheads," he says.
I smooth a hand over my own dark auburn hair and try to match that smile.
"So what do I get if I give you Scully?" I say seductively (as
seductively as I can, considering I'm a soprano).
Harry thinks for a moment. "You get to join us?" he suggests.
While I'm squirming happily in my seat at that thought, Tom
speaks up. "What about me?"
"What about you, hotshot?" I shoot back. "You want
another crack at Mulder? Or do you want Scully, too? Let's
negotiate."
"I want you to pay attention to me." The expression on his face
says, "I know I'm whining, but I can't help it."
I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Tom," I say earnestly.
"I know you know I like Harry better. I mean, I don't usually
like blonds, and, well, you're harder for me to understand than Harry
is. That's the thing. I can identify with Harry so much more
easily."
"Harry loves me," Tom points out quietly.
I smile fondly at the two of them. "I know he does. Haven't I
given you two my best? Given you each other? And B'Elanna,
too?" I pause for a moment, wondering if the Chief Engineer is going to
show up and throw me against the wall, like she did to Ny. Fortunately,
nothing happens.
"So talk to me, Tom," I go on. "Don't wait for Harry to
do it! Didn't I write my first decent story from your point of
view?"
Tom grins, reminiscing. "Yeah. And I really appreciate it.
Really." He squeezes Harry affectionately.
"Well, okay," I say, glancing back at my computer screen. What
was I just doing? I look up to say something to the boys, but they're
gone. Instead, there's a tall, slim, brooding dark-haired fellow in a
suit and trench coat that screams "Government Type!" And with
him is a small red-haired woman whose blue eyes seem to be burning the
side of my face.
"Me and Tom Paris?" Mulder asks.
---
End
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