Conversations and Minuets
by Steph
Codes: Scott and Marilyn, totally platonic
Rating: G
Summary: The snow delays AAA, giving Scott and Marilyn a chance to talk. Episode tag for Chapter 52.
Introduction and Disclaimers
I've been snow-bound for most of this weekend, which has inspired me to indulge in a little Scott and Marilyn post-Chapter 52 friendship-iness. There's not a lick of romance to be found in here, so you kids can stop squealing "Eww!" like pre-teenaged girls. ;) There *is* a small amount of angst- this is Scott after all- and a few references to the missing Lauren. And I've invented some family for Marilyn, because we know precious little.
Oh yeah, and this story has *nothing* to do with my current work in progress, which has really drifted into alternate universe territory. This is a little break for me. ;)
These characters aren't mine of course- they belong to DEK and company. But rest assured that no money changed hands in the creation of this little vignette. Back, lawyers, back!
*****
Conversations and Minuets
by Steph
When the Mozart had faded and the radio had clicked, signifying the end of the CD, Scott turned and honored Marilyn with a bow. He then stood in a hush, held by the moment, almost as if he *revered* it. Something unreadable flickered in Scott's blue eyes, and Marilyn felt strangely unsettled. It wasn't because she *feared* Scott. It was because she felt she had intruded upon something *private*- a side of Scott that he closely, though imperfectly, guarded.
Marilyn had always been a reticent, though kind, woman. She had several friends among the faculty, but ultimately, she felt most comfortable when professional boundaries were clearly drawn and respected. Marilyn knew that Scott too depended upon these boundaries, but over the years, she had come to suspect that this was less a temperamental inclination and more a defensive strategy on Scott's part.
The trouble with Scott was that he kept inadvertently *crossing* the line, not out of malice, but out of compulsion. Though Scott sincerely believed with *absolute conviction* that a leader must always behave with self-restraint, his own nature foiled him at every turn. This push and pull, Marilyn believed, was part of what made people feel uncomfortable around Scott- he was unpredictable. One moment, he would affect a chilly, apparently unfeeling, formality. In the next, his sensitivity or his impulse for companionship would emerge.
It was music and dance that most often revealed Scott's other side to Marilyn. His night before the Pops was still the most vivid memory for her. But even over the past few days, she had found herself frequently amazed at how much *passion* Scott could express in dance, even in as reserved a dance as the minuet they had just completed.
Eventually, Marilyn decided to break the silence. "Scott?"
The transformation was dramatic. The confident man who had led Marilyn with grace through the hallway disappeared, replaced by the awkward individual who was vastly more familiar. Marilyn was disappointed to see the first man go.
"I'm sorry, I-"
Marilyn interrupted Scott's stammering. "Why?"
"Well..." Scott closed and opened his hands, then glanced down at his watch. "Oh my! We've been here for two hours. Triple A should've been here by now."
A little later, Marilyn hung up the phone in the office and turned to the man who stood waiting at her side. "The snow's gotten worse. They say it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a few hours."
Scott looked very apologetic. "Oh. I'm sorry, Marilyn, I'm sure this was not how you planned to spend the evening."
"Don't apologize, it's not your fault," Marilyn sighed, sitting down in a nearby chair and leaning her head against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott take the seat beside her. "And it's not as if I haven't enjoyed your company tonight, Scott." Scott smiled shyly, his ears turning a distinct shade of pink. "Though I was hoping to drive down to New London tonight to see my brother and his family for the holidays."
"You have a brother?"
Marilyn nodded. "Ten years older. He was out of the house before I really got to know him. This is the first time in a long time that he's actually been stationed somewhere close enough for me to visit. Before this year, he was overseas. Home is where the Navy sends you..." Marilyn caught a glimmer of understanding in Scott's expression. "You know about that, don't you?"
"Well, in my case, it was the Marines, but yes, I do..." Scott trailed off and shifted in his seat, looking suddenly ill at ease. Something deeply sad lingered in his eyes, and Marilyn once again felt like a trespasser. The air grew so tense that she jumped to change the subject.
"So, what are your plans for the vacation?"
Scott returned slowly from wherever far away place he had drifted. "Oh. Well, truth be told, I have no real plans. I was hoping to share the holidays this year with Lauren." He looked down at his hands. "Have you spoken to her since September?"
Marilyn wasn't sure it was a good idea to reveal that she had been in regular contact with her good friend since her departure. But her elemental honesty eventually won out. "Yes, I have." Scott's eyes grew wide, and Marilyn cringed at the open emotion she found in them. "I think she's really happy where she is, Scott," she continued gently.
"Good." The emotions that played across Scott's face, however, belied a far more conflicted reaction. Without warning, Scott jumped from his chair and started to pace the floor, shaking his head in self-disgust. "How could I- how *can* I be so selfish?"
"Scott-"
"I could *see* that she was unhappy. I could *see* that she was suffering. I *tried* to help her, but... but I couldn't give her what she *needed*. And yet..." Scott stopped pacing and held out his hands. "And yet there's still a part of me that's *angry* that she left... a part of me that still *expects* her to walk through that door and take me back. Even though it was *my* fault things turned out the way they did..."
"Scott, I'm not sure that's entirely true." Scott looked at Marilyn in surprise. "Look... do you want my honest opinion?" Scott nodded. "Well, part of it *was* you. To some extent, I think Lauren was hurt that you were unwilling or unable to share certain things with her. But more importantly, I think the pedestal you put Lauren on is what caused the most damage." Marilyn leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Lauren was a perfectionist long before she got involved with you. It's part of what makes her such a good teacher. But being with someone who literally worshiped the ground she walked on... well, it encouraged some things that *weren't* as healthy. You two were also too much *alike*- serious, conscientious... which, incidentally, is why I'm not right for you either." Scott shot her a sad smile. "Anyway, I don't think this is a matter of *fault* so much as a matter of the baggage you both brought into the relationship. Does that make any sense at all?"
Scott sighed and sat down. "You're wiser than I am, Marilyn."
"I think *observant* is a better word."
Scott opened his mouth to respond, but the conversation was cut short by a loud bang in the hallway. It took a few repetitions before they both realized that someone was pounding on the front door of the school.
Exchanging a look, Scott and Marilyn rushed to the entryway to open the door. In the swirl of snow stood a man whose face was almost invisible under a parka and scarf. "Someone called for a tow?"
"Yes," Marilyn replied. "I'll show you where the car is parked. Just let me get my coat."
The man nodded, and Marilyn shut the door to keep out the cold. "Well," Scott said. "I guess I should take my leave. And... well... thank you, Marilyn, for everything."
"Of course."
Scott turned and walked halfway to office before stopping to add, "Oh, and I hope you have a happy holiday."
"You too."
Scott smiled and disappeared into his office. It was then that Marilyn made a decision that she dearly hoped she wouldn't regret later. Rushing to Scott's doorway, she found Scott shrugging into his coat. "Scott?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like to join me for coffee the morning after Christmas? Strictly as friends, of course."
Scott once more regarded Marilyn with astonishment. "Well... yes... I would love to."
"Okay. Then I'll see you then."
"Right." Scott nervously fumbled with the buttons on his coat, then walked past Marilyn into the hall.
"Take care, Scott," Marilyn said quietly to Scott's retreating back.
The End.
by Steph
Codes: Scott and Marilyn, totally platonic
Rating: G
Summary: The snow delays AAA, giving Scott and Marilyn a chance to talk. Episode tag for Chapter 52.
Introduction and Disclaimers
I've been snow-bound for most of this weekend, which has inspired me to indulge in a little Scott and Marilyn post-Chapter 52 friendship-iness. There's not a lick of romance to be found in here, so you kids can stop squealing "Eww!" like pre-teenaged girls. ;) There *is* a small amount of angst- this is Scott after all- and a few references to the missing Lauren. And I've invented some family for Marilyn, because we know precious little.
Oh yeah, and this story has *nothing* to do with my current work in progress, which has really drifted into alternate universe territory. This is a little break for me. ;)
These characters aren't mine of course- they belong to DEK and company. But rest assured that no money changed hands in the creation of this little vignette. Back, lawyers, back!
*****
Conversations and Minuets
by Steph
When the Mozart had faded and the radio had clicked, signifying the end of the CD, Scott turned and honored Marilyn with a bow. He then stood in a hush, held by the moment, almost as if he *revered* it. Something unreadable flickered in Scott's blue eyes, and Marilyn felt strangely unsettled. It wasn't because she *feared* Scott. It was because she felt she had intruded upon something *private*- a side of Scott that he closely, though imperfectly, guarded.
Marilyn had always been a reticent, though kind, woman. She had several friends among the faculty, but ultimately, she felt most comfortable when professional boundaries were clearly drawn and respected. Marilyn knew that Scott too depended upon these boundaries, but over the years, she had come to suspect that this was less a temperamental inclination and more a defensive strategy on Scott's part.
The trouble with Scott was that he kept inadvertently *crossing* the line, not out of malice, but out of compulsion. Though Scott sincerely believed with *absolute conviction* that a leader must always behave with self-restraint, his own nature foiled him at every turn. This push and pull, Marilyn believed, was part of what made people feel uncomfortable around Scott- he was unpredictable. One moment, he would affect a chilly, apparently unfeeling, formality. In the next, his sensitivity or his impulse for companionship would emerge.
It was music and dance that most often revealed Scott's other side to Marilyn. His night before the Pops was still the most vivid memory for her. But even over the past few days, she had found herself frequently amazed at how much *passion* Scott could express in dance, even in as reserved a dance as the minuet they had just completed.
Eventually, Marilyn decided to break the silence. "Scott?"
The transformation was dramatic. The confident man who had led Marilyn with grace through the hallway disappeared, replaced by the awkward individual who was vastly more familiar. Marilyn was disappointed to see the first man go.
"I'm sorry, I-"
Marilyn interrupted Scott's stammering. "Why?"
"Well..." Scott closed and opened his hands, then glanced down at his watch. "Oh my! We've been here for two hours. Triple A should've been here by now."
A little later, Marilyn hung up the phone in the office and turned to the man who stood waiting at her side. "The snow's gotten worse. They say it could be anywhere from fifteen minutes to a few hours."
Scott looked very apologetic. "Oh. I'm sorry, Marilyn, I'm sure this was not how you planned to spend the evening."
"Don't apologize, it's not your fault," Marilyn sighed, sitting down in a nearby chair and leaning her head against the wall. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Scott take the seat beside her. "And it's not as if I haven't enjoyed your company tonight, Scott." Scott smiled shyly, his ears turning a distinct shade of pink. "Though I was hoping to drive down to New London tonight to see my brother and his family for the holidays."
"You have a brother?"
Marilyn nodded. "Ten years older. He was out of the house before I really got to know him. This is the first time in a long time that he's actually been stationed somewhere close enough for me to visit. Before this year, he was overseas. Home is where the Navy sends you..." Marilyn caught a glimmer of understanding in Scott's expression. "You know about that, don't you?"
"Well, in my case, it was the Marines, but yes, I do..." Scott trailed off and shifted in his seat, looking suddenly ill at ease. Something deeply sad lingered in his eyes, and Marilyn once again felt like a trespasser. The air grew so tense that she jumped to change the subject.
"So, what are your plans for the vacation?"
Scott returned slowly from wherever far away place he had drifted. "Oh. Well, truth be told, I have no real plans. I was hoping to share the holidays this year with Lauren." He looked down at his hands. "Have you spoken to her since September?"
Marilyn wasn't sure it was a good idea to reveal that she had been in regular contact with her good friend since her departure. But her elemental honesty eventually won out. "Yes, I have." Scott's eyes grew wide, and Marilyn cringed at the open emotion she found in them. "I think she's really happy where she is, Scott," she continued gently.
"Good." The emotions that played across Scott's face, however, belied a far more conflicted reaction. Without warning, Scott jumped from his chair and started to pace the floor, shaking his head in self-disgust. "How could I- how *can* I be so selfish?"
"Scott-"
"I could *see* that she was unhappy. I could *see* that she was suffering. I *tried* to help her, but... but I couldn't give her what she *needed*. And yet..." Scott stopped pacing and held out his hands. "And yet there's still a part of me that's *angry* that she left... a part of me that still *expects* her to walk through that door and take me back. Even though it was *my* fault things turned out the way they did..."
"Scott, I'm not sure that's entirely true." Scott looked at Marilyn in surprise. "Look... do you want my honest opinion?" Scott nodded. "Well, part of it *was* you. To some extent, I think Lauren was hurt that you were unwilling or unable to share certain things with her. But more importantly, I think the pedestal you put Lauren on is what caused the most damage." Marilyn leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Lauren was a perfectionist long before she got involved with you. It's part of what makes her such a good teacher. But being with someone who literally worshiped the ground she walked on... well, it encouraged some things that *weren't* as healthy. You two were also too much *alike*- serious, conscientious... which, incidentally, is why I'm not right for you either." Scott shot her a sad smile. "Anyway, I don't think this is a matter of *fault* so much as a matter of the baggage you both brought into the relationship. Does that make any sense at all?"
Scott sighed and sat down. "You're wiser than I am, Marilyn."
"I think *observant* is a better word."
Scott opened his mouth to respond, but the conversation was cut short by a loud bang in the hallway. It took a few repetitions before they both realized that someone was pounding on the front door of the school.
Exchanging a look, Scott and Marilyn rushed to the entryway to open the door. In the swirl of snow stood a man whose face was almost invisible under a parka and scarf. "Someone called for a tow?"
"Yes," Marilyn replied. "I'll show you where the car is parked. Just let me get my coat."
The man nodded, and Marilyn shut the door to keep out the cold. "Well," Scott said. "I guess I should take my leave. And... well... thank you, Marilyn, for everything."
"Of course."
Scott turned and walked halfway to office before stopping to add, "Oh, and I hope you have a happy holiday."
"You too."
Scott smiled and disappeared into his office. It was then that Marilyn made a decision that she dearly hoped she wouldn't regret later. Rushing to Scott's doorway, she found Scott shrugging into his coat. "Scott?"
"Yes?"
"Would you like to join me for coffee the morning after Christmas? Strictly as friends, of course."
Scott once more regarded Marilyn with astonishment. "Well... yes... I would love to."
"Okay. Then I'll see you then."
"Right." Scott nervously fumbled with the buttons on his coat, then walked past Marilyn into the hall.
"Take care, Scott," Marilyn said quietly to Scott's retreating back.
The End.