I would just like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who's been reviewing. That's really cool of you guys, and it (not to be too sappy) it means a fair bit to me, that anyone would like the way I write well enough to encourage me onwards the way that you do. So thank you. A lot, thank you.
Lack of plot warning here– just sort of building up to the dance. Also, this thing is "almost" over, as much as I hate to say it. Two or three more chapters, I think. Tops.
Disclaimer: see any of the previous.
Monica Reyes and Dana Scully strolled down the sidewalk, side by side. A comfortable silence stretched between them as they enjoyed the crisp fall air. They had been shopping for homecoming dresses together, and now each held a large blue plastic bag at her side as they headed back towards campus.
Monica slid a look sideways to her friend. "You know, Dana," she said, smiling, "I never figured you for the dance-going type. So why are you going to this one?" Mulder asked you, didn't he? She guessed, the thought making her giggle inside.
Dana winced. So far (mostly by luck), she'd been able to avoid telling Monica who she was going with, and the confrontation had been avoided. Dana wasn't a fool– she knew how Monica thought of Doggett, and she was extremely uncomfortable to be thrown between them. It seemed as though her luck was about to run out.
"Well, you know," Dana said, still attempting to dodge the inevitable. "First dance at a new school . . . I just figured that I'd like to...go. Check out the scene."
"Uh-huh," said Monica, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "Dana, you've never 'checked out the scene' in your entire life! Plus, I know that I wasn't going to go until Brad asked, and that you felt the same way. The not going part, not the Brad part. So who asked you, Dana? He must be quite the find."
Her friend remained silent for a moment, searching frantically for a way out of the revelation ahead. But no such opportunity presented itself, and she was forced to say quietly, "I was asked by John Doggett."
Monica stopped dead in her tracks. "I'm sorry. Could you repeat that again?"
"John Doggett," Dana said a bit louder. "He asked me a couple of weeks ago. After you turned him down."
Her friend began to splutter. "Well– well, what about Mulder? I thought you were going with him! John? You– you can't be going with John!"
"I am, Monica," Dana replied. "And Mulder didn't ask me," she added, a bit bitterly. "I think he's going with Diana Fowley." That slut, she thought.
"Oh . . . " Monica said. "Er . . . why didn't you tell me?"
"'Cuz I was afraid that you'd hate me," Dana replied, staring at the ground.
"I don't hate you, silly!" Monica cried. Unless you touch him, in which case, so help me, I will tear you limb from limb. Best friends or not.
"Well, I know how you feel about him, and I was just worried that–"
Monica cut her off with a slightly brittle laugh. "How I feel about him? Dana, he's a friend! Nothing more!"
Dana's eyebrow rose slightly in the famous Dana-Scully-Skeptical look. Monica sighed and started walking again.
"I just can't believe that I never figured it out before today!" she exclaimed. "I mean, the dance is tomorrow! How'd you keep it quiet for so long?"
"Luck, mostly," Dana admitted, shrugging. "You didn't ask the right questions, and I was able to keep the rest to myself simply by not bringing it up. Ever."
"Well, why didn't Mulder ask you?" Monica asked, with blatant curiosity. "Everyone on campus knows how he feels about you."
Dana blushed. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said stiffly. "Besides, I haven't talked to him lately. We had a kind of a fight a week or so ago, and I haven't spoken to him since."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Come on, what are you? Four years old? But I'm smart– I won't ask what you fought about, Scully," she said, in a bad imitation of the subject of their conversation.
They entered the gates of the school and began crossing the campus.
"Well, so long as you're not plotting to kill me in my sleep," Dana said, "then I guess things are fine. Right?"
"Right," Monica said, slightly ashamedly. She had been plotting to do just that. "Oh look! It's the Three Stooges!" She pointed across the campus towards the fast-approaching Lone Gunmen. "Wonder what they're so excited about?"
Dana shrugged, but she had a feeling that, whatever it was, it had to do with Mulder, and she really didn't want to have anything to do with it.
"I'm just gonna–" she turned to leave, but she was too late. The three men had already caught up.
"Hey there, Scully," said Frohike in greeting. "Lookin' good. It true that you're going with Doggett to the dance?"
Monica turned to her friend and mouthed an indignant Even he knew? Scully shrugged and gave a helpless "Yeah."
"Well, if you change your mind before tomorrow night," Frohike said, "you know who to call!"
Langly snorted. "Shut up, Frohike. We came to deliver a message to Scully."
"Oh really?" Monica said, with an amused smile on her face.
"Yeah," said Byers. "Mulder says to remind you that tomorrow is the 31 of October, and to watch your back, because you never know when Cancer Man might be there."
"Who the hell is Cancer Man?" Dana asked in irritation. "And why is Mulder acting like he's in a bad film noir movie? If he wants to tell you something, he can do it himself, not by sending you three over."
Frohike looked affronted. "Cancer Man is Mulder's nickname for Professor Carlson," he said, "on account of the fact that he's always smoking. And come on, Langly. Byers. I can see when we're not wanted. Good day, madam."
"'Bye," said Dana, still angry.
"I said good day!"screamed Frohike. He marched off, the other two Lone Gunmen trailing behind him. Dana glanced at Monica and gave in to a quick bout of laughter.
"Come on," Monica said finally, holding up her shopping bag. "Let's get these dresses back to our rooms, and hide there before anyone else spots us and decides to 'talk'."
Dana nodded, and the two women walked off. They'd only gone a few feet when silence overtook them once more. As they entered their room, they were lost in their prospective worlds– one of ice blue and one of hazel green– and both entirely out of reach.
I gave you the lack of plot warning. If you didn't listen and were displeased, it's your own damn fault, now, isn't it?
Sorry if this is a bit choppy. I get most of my writing done during school, either in French or Chem class. Therefore the quality of the writing varies inversely to the amount of notes we are expected to be taking at the time.
Next chapter will have so much plot that you could cut it with a knife. I think. And if it doesn't... well, the next one will. Promise.
