A/N: Just another brainchild. Enjoy, guys.
Inter-Office Relationships
Wanna hear the biggest corporate copout? How the famed "interoffice relationship" goes. See, here's how it really goes.
Stage One: the meeting. Now here, they say (who is They, anyway?) is important. That moment your eyes meet from across the room. You can see into their soul, They say.
No. No, you can't. You're gonna look at her, and all you're gonna see is a lack of sleep, anger and determination. Mad, mad determination.
(Mostly lack of sleep, though – who knows how long it's been since she got a full night's sleep?)
Stage Two: the teasing game. You tease, she teases back. All the while, you're both discovering The Spark, which oughta be a step in itself. Your normal conversations become sort of loosely veiled innuendos. Everything starts sounding sexual, but you'll say nothing because the game is best played silently.
The truth? They're not games, they're more matches – screaming ones, at that. You'll make sexual innuendos and she'll just get frustrated. You make more, because it's what gets her hot under the collar. Not that you care about what gets her hot under the collar...at all.
Stage Three: the flirting conversations. Now, this may seem a lot like stage two, but it's not. Here, you've tested the waters – you're both sort of interested, and it's moved past How Do You Like It? and into You Know You Like It territory. You smile, she smiles back. You wink, she melts. You have sweet little conversations about your lives in the copier room, yadi yada.
Well, here's the thing. You don't have a copier room – Gods know the brass are too cheap to afford one, and anyway, what would you being doing in a copier room? – and she won't open her mouth in regards to her "life". She'll talk business, and you'll sort of stare...not at her of course, because a Princess And A Guy Like You would never work, dammit, and you've covered this point before. Besides, there's a thousand guys who are much better at the Princess Courting Game than you are.
Stage Four: the lunch dates. The first time round, it's accidental. You all agree to meet up for lunch, every bails and, coincidentally (or not, depending on who you tell), it's just you and her. After that, it becomes a habit – everyday, "let's meet for lunch".
Yeah...no. It's more like you're forcing her to eat, continually. Every day, you're bugging her; "eat, eat" and "you don't eat enough, even the Kid thinks so – and what does he know?" (More than you, apparently.) So, by some point, you're sitting with her every day, quietly forcing her to eat. Quietly, to preserve her pride. Quietly, so They made their assumptions.
Stage Five: the late nights. Also known as The End Of All Other Relationships. You lie coyly to your spouse, telling them you're working late on an urgent job of some description. But really, you're just sitting there, stealing glances at each other over useless pieces of flimsy, greasy food and cheap wine. This happens all the time, spouses get suspicious. Here's the end of your "home" relationships.
Okay, so this only happens once, and you're too content with your solo life – no pun intended – to have a spouse of any kind. (Except that furry oaf, but that's different) The reality of the matter is that the only reason it happened was because it had to. You'd been too sick to do so beforehand, and you needed to cram fro Ord Mantell sometime. The Princess was...simply supervising (because she – rightly so – didn't trust you).
Stage Six: the kiss. This usually isn't some chaste first kiss, it's the real deal in all of its dirty glory. There's nothing innocent about this. Usually followed by the first "conjugal visit" of sorts, circumstances allowing. You feel it everywhere, from the tip of your nose to your toes, and then you know you're in over your head.
This one is the closest to the money. It's pretty special, as kisses go, but nothing "life changing". You don't believe in that corny crap. They were wrong – as They usually are – about the "dirty glory" bit, too. It was dirty, yes, in the literal sense, hence "my hands are dirty", but it wasn't like all the other kisses. Again – not life changing, just different. A different dynamic. And there was no "conjugal visit", either – just a tiny Princess slipping off into the shadows with swollen red lips and a faint pink blush. And a smile – you remember that smile.
The End