Title: As Usual
Author: ScullyAsTrinity
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I want to bitchslap John Wells... get it?
Summary: Like always, she seated herself at her desk, glancing at the pictures in their frames. As usual, she felt hollow, barren, without luster.
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All of the clichés died in his thoughts when he saw her. She wasn't shining, she wasn't glorious. His heart wasn't thudding away in his chest, his breath didn't catch in his throat. His mouth wasn't parched; her eyes didn't soften when she saw him.
True, he smiled, but wasn't a full wattage one.
She smiled back, but she wasn't happy.
Like always, she seated herself at her desk, glancing at the pictures in their frames. As usual, she felt hollow, barren, without luster. And that was how she thought she should feel. Because she was without him... as usual. It was never anything different, the same yearning, the same potentiality dancing before her eyes waiting to be seized.
Fruitless.
Neither of them would take the bait, and they both knew it. So it just taunted them, dancing back and forth, from foot to foot, sticking out its tongue and laughing... because they'd never catch it. They'd never try. They'd never be happy.
He stood there and watched her work, nimble hands dancing over keys on the board, spelling out words, phrases, sentences. All for him. But not for him. Blonde hair hung low and sleek on her back, caressing her in ways he only wished that he could.
It wasn't like he needed her to live. But he would have liked to see if he could have her and then need her forever. It really wasn't asking much. It really wasn't. Forever wasn't eternity... after all. It wasn't, right?
So young, so vibrant, so beautiful. Perhaps if he touched her she'd bleed onto him, stain him so badly that even bleach would be useless. Maybe she could infuse him with energy too, maybe she could make him shine.
Type, type, typing away, falling into the monotony that was so easy to succumb to. Humming, she was humming and typing and he wanted to touch her throat, feel the vibrations there, feel them tickle his fingers, she her smile when he did. But instead, he turned and walked back into his office, pouring over a new file; fighting the good fight... like he usually did.
An hour later, she walked into his office, told him of mundane things; of meetings and phone calls. Of appointments and memos. But he watched her mouth move, wondering how it would feel against his. Wondering how long it would take her to flush and open under him.
She wondered if his scar would be tender when she touched it. If it would bring her to her knees; wondered if she would kiss it and have it heal. She wondered how it hair would feel as she ran her fingers through it, wondered if he'd be clean shaven or with a bit of stubble.
He thanked her and smiled, but it was forced.
She shrugged and didn't bother, leaving the office briskly.
They went back to their respective corners, to do their respective jobs, thinking about the other all the while... pretending not to.
As usual.