From: "Glass November" Date: Mon, 07 Oct 2002 04:58:17 +0000 Subject: How Can I Refuse, by Glass November Source: direct TITLE: How Can I Refuse AUTHOR: Glass November (glass_november@hotmail.com) RATING: G, I think. CATEGORY: VRA KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance SUMMARY: "Sitting in a bar in a seaside town, sweet little love getting high, getting down . . . " - Heart DISCLAIMER: Hm. Let's go through this another time, shall we? After all, we wouldn't want to forget that . . . they're not mine! AUTHOR's NOTES: Let's see. Another plead for feedback, the fact this was inspired (again) by Heart, and a dedication to my English teacher, who, ah, assigned this . . . that's about it. Onward to the story! *********************************************************************** He watches her. She sits at a scarred wooden table not far from where he is, but the crowds of people block any chances of her spotting him. He wouldn't even be able to see her if not for the raised platform the bar sits on. She is gesturing, talking with a friend that he has never seen before. Somehow that saddens him, even though he knows she has a life of her own. Still, in some corner of his subconscious he has always hoped that he is the only one for her, as she is the only one he has. Lately, though, it seems that he is reminded of the foolishness of that hope every day. It's in the little things. Unreturned innuendos, the distracted tone of her voice, the excuses that she is busy or is meeting a friend. Only they are not excuses for her as they are for him. For her, they are reasons, evidence of her life apart from him. He wonders if she knows how much he needs her, and how much he notices little things like that, words that to anyone else would be meaningless, dismissed. It doesn't matter, he realizes sadly. She smiles, a wide, open smile that he rarely sees. It is an expression of trust, of happiness, and there wasn't often the occasion for that when they were together. When she smiles like that, her whole face lights up and the haunted, exhausted look in her eyes is gone, replaced by something innocent and beautiful. Not that she isn't beautiful all the time, he corrects himself hastily. Because she is, and that's what makes nights like this even harder to bear. He sighs deeply. He knows she would be angry if she caught him watching her like this, but he can't help himself. He is drawn to her, like a moth to a flame, as the worn cliche went. A moth to her fire. He wonders about the simile for a minute, wincing at the unintentional accuracy. A movement in front of him causes him to glance forward at the woman wiping down the glossy surface in front of him. She nods in the direction he was looking at. "Ex?" She sounds bored, knowing, like it is a line she has spoken too many times. He shakes his head, not wanting to volunteer anything and not wanting to talk about just what she is. The woman nods. "Ah," she says, understandingly, as she moves away. This irritates him, the smugness in her voice, and for a moment he wants to call her back, to tell her exactly what the woman meant to him and ask her why she assumed he was just like every other man who sat at her bar. He opens his mouth before he realizes what he is doing, and how embarrassed the woman across the room would be if she heard him. He masks his near-mistake by gesturing at his empty glass, which is immediately replaced. He turns back to the table across the room. She is still there, laughing. He wishes he is sitting there with her, because hearing her laugh is something else that doesn't happen near enough. He is staring at her when all of a sudden she turns and her startled blue eyes meet his dark ones. He immediately glances away, embarrassed to be caught staring or watching her at all. Hurriedly he drains his glass and places several bills on the counter top. When he turns around to leave, she is standing right behind him. She smiles. "Hey, stranger." He nods, swallowing harshly. "What's wrong?" When he doesn't answer, she sighs and slides onto the stool next to him. "Lonely?" Jealous, he wants to answer. Yes. He doesn't say anything, afraid of what will happen if he opens his mouth. She looks up quickly, before he can shield his eyes, and she nods at the open emotions reflected there. The words that next come out of her mouth surprise him, and then he returns her seductive smile. "Me too. Wanna do something about it?"