6
She did a 180 on Third and parked outside Starbucks. There was a parking meter, but she didn't have change, so she left the motor running and made the call from her car. Stephanie wasn't at home. She checked her watch. Maybe she had play practice, which seemed to be more often than not. She tried her cell.
Steph answered on the first ring. "Hello?"
"You picked up pretty quick. Expecting an important call?"
"Yours. You okay?"
"Yeah. Are you busy?"
"Play practice. We're doing a run through. Blocking."
"For school?" Stephanie took acting and directing work wherever she could find it. Sometimes this got in the way of her teaching, so sometimes she stopped teaching. Those were the times when she leaned on Monica the heaviest.
"Yep."
"What is it?"
"Downstage. Erin ! Downstage!" She yelled. "What? Oh, sorry, it's 'The Crucible.'"
"Again? Didn't you just do it?"
"A couple of years ago. It won state, babe. Gotta stick with the winners. Besides, I can't do 'Equus' around here."
"Thank God for that."
"I'm surprised they even let me rehearse on Sundays." She snorted. "Know what I mean? And why do you hate that play so much?" Stephanie sounded wired, like she was on caffeine again. Monica had never known her to be without a vice. "Never mind," she said. "I know why. So, what's up?"
"I need to talk to you."
"Talk."
"No, it's going to be a long story, I think. I'll call you at home later."
"I won't be home later, tell me now. Hang on, let me get some privacy."
She heard her moving.
"Hang on. Give me a minute."
She heard shouting, but it was muffled. A minute later: "Can you hear me?"
"Loud and clear."
"Okay." Stephanie breathed hard. "Balcony, laser pointer in hand. They move wrong, they get it in the eye."
Monica chuckled.
"Just kidding." She sighed. "Well, not really."
"It's about Scully."
"Knew it was. How's she doing?"
"She's... she's hanging in there."
"I guess that's the most you can hope for."
"She said that she's in love with me."
"Whoa." Stephanie whistled. "Wow."
"I just - I just don't understand it."
"Honey, what's to understand? She's fallen for you - why wouldn't she?"
"But, Stephanie-"
"Don't even say it," she interrupted.
"But, she's-"
"Don't go there. Don't put your foot in your mouth," Stephanie warned.
"But, I'm not ... I don't ... I can't return that love."
"Why not? You adore her. You've been in Washington how long? Six, eight months? Do you know how much you talk about her?"
"I just admire her. She's practically a legend. She could've been Director, Stephanie. There's not many women you can say that about."
"Look, I know you have a lot of respect for her, but you've got to face some facts at some point."
"What are you talking about?"
"Quit - never mind." Stephanie was moving again - she could hear the swish of a skirt and the clunk of boots - and a door closed. The reception on the phone became a little worse. "Let me tell you something. Do you know what *I* know about her? Her name's Dana Scully. She's drop dead gorgeous, she's brilliant, she's my age. She has a baby boy that you helped to deliver in some backwoods God-forsaken part of Georgia . She's petite, has unbelievable hair." She paused. "She's perfectly manicured and made up every day. She has incredible blue eyes. She's risked her life more times than I've probably run my hose, and everything she does is for the good of our country. I'm in love with her and I've never even met the chick."
"Stephanie."
"I swear I'd sleep with her in a heartbeat."
She smiled and rolled her eyes. "No you wouldn't."
"Hell, yeah I would. I'm thinking about hopping on a plane right now just to bring her flowers. God damn. I love that woman."
Stephanie wouldn't - couldn't - catch a flight to D. C., she was terrified of flying. Still, it was quite a thought.
"I can't believe your mouth," Monica said.
"What?"
"You're at school," she admonished.
"I didn't start swearing until I started working with kids. And you know that's the truth." She sighed heavily. "Monica, you need to take a long, hard look at yourself, babe. I don't want to take you to the mirror, but I don't think you're ever going to go there by yourself."
She rubbed her head. "I haven't slept in a long time, Stephanie. Say what you mean."
"Honey, remember how you loved me in college? Remember?"
Of course, she remembered.
"I was so afraid of hurting you. You were so sweet," Stephanie whispered. "You loved me like no one else. I wanted to wrap you up and put you in my pocket and carry you with me everywhere."
"It was a crush," Monica said slowly. "We were experimenting."
"No, baby, you weren't experimenting, I was."
"Stephanie, don't. We were kids."
"Yeah, we were kids, but we weren't children in bed, sweetheart."
She blushed furiously.
"You can't tell me that it's been the same with men."
"Steph-"
"You can't. I know all about everyone you've dated, and nothing you've told me comes close to what you and I shared - not the sex, not the love. I don't know why you sleep with guys, I've never understood. Maybe you don't think you deserve to be happy. Maybe you're scared to death to love somebody like you loved me. Do you know how that makes me feel?" Stephanie swallowed. "How I hate myself for hurting you like that? You won't give anybody else a chance. I watched you fall in love with Thea Ellison-"
"What are you talking about? I was with Gary back then!" She was embarrassed, and stared out the window at the traffic, wanting to escape this conversation. Tears burned her eyes. Damn Stephanie and Scully both for forcing memories on her.
"Yeah, you were with him, but you were in love with her."
"No-"
"Chris Wade."
"No!" She was crying now.
"Linda. What was her name? Linda Something. She was a lawyer. And that other lawyer, Brynn."
"No," she sobbed. "Stop. Stop."
"I always liked the ones you fell for. They were always the same: smart, quiet, strong. Not like me. Not like me at all. I was-" Her voice broke, but she gathered herself. "I was so glad they weren't like me. I didn't want them to hurt you like I did. But you never even gave them a chance, Monica."
They were quiet for a few moments, Monica crying softly, Stephanie sighing a lot. Then Stephanie continued. "Baby, you've been in love with Dana Scully for fifteen years. Sometimes she was a blonde, sometimes a red head, sometimes short, sometimes - " She paused. "Always short. And sometimes she was even beautiful like me." She waited a beat. "You were supposed to laugh at that."
Monica swallowed hard. She could keep on crying if she let herself, she was so tired. This wasn't the time or place to have this conversation - she had work to do. But, oh God, she wanted to go home and crawl under the covers and cry until she was empty.
"I don't blame you. I wouldn't have laughed, either." Stephanie was quiet for a moment. "But you can take heart in this, babe - you've got good taste. In women, anyway. Horrid taste in men."
"I'm not bisexual," Monica finally said.
"Oh, no, no you're not. You're a dyke, babe. And a hell of a gorgeous one, too."
She shook her head angrily. "Where do you get off-"
"Hey, hey. Easy there, easy."
"I don't believe I'm listening to all of this."
"You can be mad at me, but I'll tell you something, every single woman you fell for - every crush you had, sweetheart - they all loved you right back. And so I'm not surprised that Dana Scully is in love with you. You just don't understand. You have a way of showing people that you love them. You treat your friends like we're the most special people in the world."
She lit a cigarette with shaky fingers. "If you think I'm gay, why did you wait so long to say something to me?"
"Because you needed to find your own way. I shouldn't have said anything now, but I guess I just feel bad for Dana. After all she's been through, she needs you to be there for her." She paused. "Why don't you see things through her eyes for a minute? She's paralyzed and she tells you she loves you, and you run away to - where are you?"
She sniffed. "Starbucks."
"You run away to Starbucks and call me to complain that this beautiful person that you admire so much has fallen in love with you."
"Stephanie - "
"Cripes!" She covered the phone and spoke to someone else for a moment. "Look, sweetie, the monsters have found me. I'll call you tomorrow."
Monica sniffed again.
"Don't worry about things too much, okay? Feel how you feel. Be sweet to this chick. Let everything else blow right through you, babe. Dana probably shared her feelings because she came close to dying. She may have thought that she'd better tell you before it's too late. Sometimes it takes that kind of situation to tell somebody how you really feel, you know? So don't be scared, baby, but don't have regrets, either. Just bend with the wind."
"Go with the flow," she muttered.
"Ride the slide. And damn you and your Starbucks, anyway," she grumbled. She lived in a fairly rural area, compared to D.C. "Love you, babe."
"I love you, too." She clicked the phone off, but it rang before she could put it away. "Monica Reyes." She wiped her face. She'd done enough crying for a lifetime.
"Monica, this is Margaret Scully."
A pain shot through her stomach. "Is she okay?"
"Yes, but she's asking for you."
She squeezed her eyes shut and forced herself to be firm. "I'll see her soon, but I'm on a case right now." She hung up rudely and whispered an apology under her breath.
