A Series of Unfortunate Clichés: Chapter Four: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas
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Anyway, here, for your reading pleasure only, is the latest fic cliché. Hope you enjoy reading.
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She is not sure whether she would deem the last month to be more bearable than the previous when Chappelle discovered their relationship, or worse.
There has been some progress. She is no longer as afraid to demonstrate around CTU that she is aware of who Tony is, since Chappelle's interest waned approximately a month after his discovery. At work there has been more than one rift and debate in their professional relationship, which, having been dealt with satisfactorily, seems to have gratified Chappelle and allowed him to understand that their relationship at work is nothing but professional.
This means that she has allowed herself to relax a little: to stand about five meters from Tony and not ten; to look at him for up to ten seconds when he is talking during a conference or meeting; to talk to him in his office for up to ten minutes. At some point, she may even allow a small amount of the personal relationship back into the office – the ability to touch him, for example, or allowing herself to smile at him once in a while – but at the moment she is still acutely aware of appearances.
Of course, this has not been helped by the influx of rumours that have arisen since that fated day at the restaurant.
She is less bothered by the rumours than she was by Chappelle's surveillance, as gossip will not affect her job, only her job satisfaction. But still, they put her slightly on edge. This bothers her, as she has always prided herself on the fact that she really didn't care what people thought about her.
It has been more the insinuation than direct rumour that has bothered her. She recalls one comment to Tony, inquiring what he had done over the weekend, before a quick, but conspicuous, glance over at Michelle. Very subtle, she had thought at the time, but she said nothing. Instead, she fumed inside. In reality she is more bothered that she allowed herself to become irate about the implication.
Tonight is an event that she is not looking forward to, unusually. In the past it was an opportunity to socialise and catch up with colleagues; to get close to Tony in a social manner; to allow others to understand that even management can be human.
Tonight, however, she would rather not catch up with colleagues, would rather not be in a social situation with Tony and really would prefer to demonstrate that management aren't in fact human. As she is sure that all employees believe anyway.
Sadly, the Christmas party is something she cannot get out of. No matter how hard she tries. And she has tried hard.
Instead, she has received – much to her consternation – advice from Tony on how to psyche herself up for the event and how to survive it happily. Of course, this advice caused her only to glare in his direction and insist that he was never to impart such crap advice again.
All this has led to where she is right at this moment: outside the venue where this year's Christmas party is being held, with Tony.
Frankly, she's more than a little pissed that he wouldn't accept her offer of working this evening.
Mentally, she uses the techniques advised by Tony to psyche herself up for entering with the boss. Of course, he will never find out that she is using these techniques.
They enter together, no overt declaration of togetherness, but it is enough to give additional evidence and substance to the rumours that have plagued the office recently.
She only hopes that people will get over their obsession by observing the reality.
She hates being centre of attention and quickly locates a few of her colleagues among whom she can legitimately hide. Tony offers to buy her a drink, and she accepts willingly. She will need more than one to survive the evening. He also offers to buy the others drinks and she is glad of this, as it makes her feel as though she stands out less obviously.
He returns later with the drinks, which all gratefully receive, then comments to her that he is going to talk to Jack. Of course, informing her of his actions in addition to their entering together cause her friends' imaginations and curiosity to go into overdrive and they immediately pepper her with looks and, eventually, questions.
"So, I heard something the other day," Casey comments, attempting to exert an air of nonchalance. "Erin in IT was suggesting that you were seeing Tony."
Immediately, all eyes are on her, and she looks back, openly. Much to their obvious irritation, she neither confirms nor denies this report.
Casey hence continues. "Of course, I told her that there was no way you would be interested in Tony," she teases, attempting to bait Michelle into disagreeing and eventually answering them.
Michelle sees the comment for what it is. "Erin might be right," she tells them quietly, confirming their suspicions.
This provides her with an array of congratulatory wishes and warnings about perils inherent in dating the boss.
They ask her questions about how long she has been seeing him, how serious is it, have they moved in together, what do the powers that be think about it?
Embarrassed, she fiddles with her necklace. It is the one that he bought her as part of her anniversary present. She moves it from side to side, and twists it on its chain. She drinks from her wine glass. She answers some questions, but dodges others. She dislikes the attention; is wary of concentrating on personal matters.
Later, she manages to free herself of the attention and walks over to join Tony in his conversation with Jack. Even though they are not at work and she can legitimately have contact with him, she is aware that people are watching them.
Placing his arm around her waist, it is obvious to her that he doesn't care so much. She smiles slightly.
She joins in the conversation.
She drinks some amount of alcohol over the evening, although far less than her other celebratory colleagues. She drinks enough that she is not drunk, but merely happily chilled.
Hence, when she attempts to find Tony for the second time that evening, she is more relaxed. Of course, relaxed may be a little understated. He sits in a group of CTU employees and she walks up to him, draping her arms around his shoulders from behind.
It is quite obvious at this point to even the most unobservant of people that they are not just co-workers. Unless it is assumed that she is being incredibly amorous in her inebriated state of mind and has decided that draping ones arms around the boss is an acceptable thing to do.
She sits down next to him, dragging her stool closer so that it is inevitable that various parts of their bodies touch.
He turns towards her so that their legs meet, and she moves her hands from his shoulders to his legs.
"Are you having an enjoyable evening?" he asks, having been earlier concerned that her only wish was to leave as rapidly as possible.
She moves closer, placing her head on his shoulder.
"As far as Christmas parties go, it's not too bad. But then, it's possible that I might be a little bit drunk," she whispers as though it is the greatest secret when, in fact, it is immediately obvious.
He absent-mindedly strokes her hair. "You're not bothered that everyone can see us?" he questions.
"Screw 'em," she comments, pulling her head from his shoulder. "It's not often that this will happen, but this time – and this time only – I'm going to allow you to be right. I love you. We're allowed to do this. Fuck it; who cares if anyone else knows?"
He laughs slightly at her more relaxed state, knowing, as he should by now, that intoxication causes her to be less guarded in both her language and feelings. Not that she can not be affectionate when they are alone, but he understands her earlier reticence at "going public" and being overly demonstrative when others are around, watching them.
"It's probably a good thing that you don't care because I'm sure that everyone else does know now," he comments. "And they're probably all looking at us."
She smiles, then moves her head closer to his, kissing him briefly. "Tomorrow I might care. But right now? They can look as much as they want. But that's as much as they're getting."
He laughs again.
Her friends look on at the scene before them.
"See, I told you," says Erin. "They've been together for months. Chappelle isn't happy, from what I've heard."
Casey shrugs. "So what," she replies, turning back towards the group. "They look happy. Let them be." She thinks about the differences in her colleague as of late. Okay, so recently she'd been more uptight at work, but before that, for a number of months, she'd been more… relaxed. More content. Still concerned and concentrating on work, but able to approach it in a more positive manner. At least most of the time. To be honest, she'd almost envied her.
Looking at her now, seeing her interacting with Tony, she certainly envies her.
Erin, slightly put out, attempts to tell her some more outrageous gossip about Chase, the newest member of the team.
Casey bites her lip, attempting not to laugh at the fickle nature of the rumour-mill. Within seconds, the group are enthralled by the latest story and almost entirely forget about their preoccupation with Tony and Michelle.
It is after eleven when they leave. They would have stayed later but will have to be at work in the morning.
There may be glances at them tomorrow; their behaviour around each other may be scrutinised, but it is nothing that they are not used to now.
He puts his arm round her shoulder in plain view of all as they exit. Tomorrow they will return to their work personas and all will be as it was.
"Well, that didn't go as badly as you were anticipating," he notes with a smile once they have exited.
"We survived," she admits begrudgingly.
"We did more than survive, sweetheart," he remarks. There is a pause. "So, now that everyone knows, there's no reason that we can't move in together," he grins.
"Not as long as you can't clean up after yourself," she murmurs.
He decides not to argue against the comment; it can be saved for later. "So, if I can clean up, we can start looking for somewhere to live?" he asks.
She pretends to think about it for a minute. "Yeah," she replies.
He pulls her in closer to him, kisses her head. "Good," he comments. "We can go back to mine, I'll clean up, and we can look for places after work tomorrow."
She laughs.
End.
More fluff ensues sometime soon.