Author: Brandywine421
Disclaimer: I do not own
these characters; they belong to SCI-FI channel and to the creative minds of
someone else. I only own the plot….Hee-
hee…
"You're in a good mood today, Darien," Claire smiles as
he walks into the Keep.
"Of course. It's
Friday, we've got Monday off and I have a date," Darien smiles.
Claire raises an eyebrow as he hops into the examination
chair. "A date? And who's the lucky lady?"
"I don't know if she's lucky yet," Darien smirks. "Some girl I met at the coffee shop
downtown."
Claire looks at him.
"Okay," Darien throws up his hands. "She delivers my pizzas. She's really sweet."
"And how old is this pizza delivery girl?" Claire grins, withholding her laughter.
"Is that important?"
Darien replies. "I thought you
were my doctor, not my dating counselor."
"You're right."
Claire stands beside him with her hands on her hips. "What's the matter? You shouldn't need a shot until Monday and
you look fine otherwise."
Darien sighs and looks at her with his puppy dog
eyes. "Claire?"
"What?" She asks,
becoming concerned.
"What kind of flowers should I get her?"
Claire starts to laugh.
"I thought you said I wasn't your dating counselor!"
"Yeah, I know, but you're the only person I trust to
ask. Hobbes is a moron when it comes to
women, Alex is an android and the 'Fish?
Well, I might as well just ask Eberts.
Come on, Claire, help me out!"
Darien pleads.
"Darien. I know
you've dated before, why so nervous now?"
Claire asks.
Darien becomes serious.
"It's been a long time, Claire.
This is the first time I've felt normal enough to ask a girl out. Before the gland, I was faithful to Casey
and I didn't have to worry about first dates and stuff. So here I am without a clue and I'm begging
you for advice. What kind of
flowers? Should I get wine or just
order beer? I'm clueless, Claire."
Claire loves the look of helplessness on Darien's
face. "Where are you taking her?"
"There's this nice little Italian place downtown," Darien
says.
"Darien, she delivers pizza. She might not want to eat pizza on her night off. Take her to that little Thai place on Fourth
Street. Is she old enough to
drink?" Claire jokes.
Darien starts to get out of the chair.
"No, I'm just teasing.
Don't give her roses on the first date; give her something colorful and
bright. That way, if the date sucks, at
least the flowers don't scream out romance and taunt her the rest of the week,"
Claire says.
"Colorful and bright.
Okay. Thai food. Okay.
I think I can handle that."
Darien is lost in thought.
"Um, Darien?"
"Yeah?"
"What are you going to wear?" Claire asks.
Darien looks at her, faking hurt. "You mean, you don't appreciate this man's
impeccable sense of fashion?"
Claire loses her composure and collapses into
laughter. Darien playfully pouts and
walks away. "Thanks, Claire."
"Let me know how it turns out!" Claire calls after him.
He waves and the Keep's door closes behind him.
~!@#$%^&*()
Claire rolls over on Saturday morning and jumps as Pavlov
licks her exposed foot. She climbs out
of bed and yawns. Her automatic
coffeemaker is already working and she opens up her refrigerator and retrieves
a bagel and cream cheese for her breakfast.
As she opens a can of food for Pavlov, she wonders how Darien's date
went.
It bothers her for a moment that this is the one of the
first things on her mind in the morning, but she shrugs it off. No matter how she feels about Darien, their
relationship is professional. If it
became anything else, she would be removed from the project. She finds him incredibly attractive, but he
is her patient and experiment, not her lover.
Still, she wants what is best for him.
"Why didn't you wake me?" Bobby Hobbes slips his arms around her waist and pulls her
against his chest.
"I just got up," She purrs as he nuzzles her neck. "Sleep well?"
He spins her around to face him and kisses her
deeply. "I had great dreams," He
replies.
She loses herself in his kiss. She has been seeing Bobby for a few weeks now but she insists on
keeping it secret. If anyone at the
Agency found out, too many issues of professionalism would be raised and above
all else, Claire loves her job. She cares
deeply for Bobby, but she doesn't love him.
She told him that up front and he accepts it, he says. They are a source of comfort for each other. After a long stressful day at work, they
don't feel like being alone. Her
feelings for Darien are an unspoken reason for the distance between her and
Bobby.
"What are you thinking about?" Bobby asks, pulling away and leaning down to rub Pavlov's perked
ears.
Claire sighs.
"It's too early for thinking," She replies.
"What? The good
doctor isn't a morning person?" Bobby
smiles, gently teasing.
"Not today. Not
after the night we had last night," She grins, pinching his backside.
Bobby laughs and starts to tickle her. He had no idea that the sexless Keeper he
first met would be so intensely ticklish and seductive.
Finally, both sit down at the table for coffee. Pavlov settles comfortably into Bobby's lap.
"You know Darien had a date last night?" Claire says.
Bobby raises an eyebrow.
"Really? He didn't say anything
to me about it."
Claire sips her coffee.
"He was nervous. Like high
school nervous. He asked me what kind
of flowers to get her. It was really
sweet."
Bobby nods. "He
probably didn't want me to tease him."
He watches Claire, curiously as she talks of Darien.
"I wonder how it went.
I mean, Darien can be really cute when he wants to be, but he was so
nervous that…what are you looking at me like that for, Bobby?" Claire asks.
"No reason. Go
on," Bobby lies.
"No, Bobby, tell me."
Bobby sighs. "You
talk about Darien the way I talk about you.
That's all. Go on."
Claire sees the flash of hurt in his eyes. She takes his hand. "I'm sorry, Bobby. Its not like that, I promise."
Bobby nods. "I
know. It's just hard for me to be with
you knowing that you don't feel the same way that I do. I'm willing to be with you this way but you
know it's not what I want."
Claire doesn't say anything. She doesn't want to get into this again.
Bobby squeezes her hand.
"I'm going. I have some errands
to run." He disappears into the bedroom
to get dressed.
Claire tries to think of something to say to soothe
Bobby's mind, but she can't. She
doesn't love him. She cares about him
and it would kill her if something happened to him, but she doesn't love him
the way that he loves her. She tries,
but she doesn't.
Bobby comes down with his overnight bag. He kisses her gently on the forehead. "Bye, Claire."
"Are you coming over tonight?" She asks, cursing the desperation in her voice.
He turns to her, the doorknob in his hand. "I'll call you."
Pavlov stands beside the closed door for several minutes,
mourning Bobby's departure.
~!@#$%^&*()
