Title: Just Send the Darned Card Author: Sarah Segretti Rating: G Summary: Never buy a blank birthday card when you don't know what to say. Category: Story. A little angst. Feedback: mrsblome@aol.com Website: http://members.aol.com/mrsblome Archive: Gossamer, Spookys okay, everyone else okay too, just let me know. Disclaimer: Not mine. Just playing. Real life drugstores and brand names used in a fictional manner Spoilers: None really, but points for finding the "Teliko" reference. Takes place during "Tempus Fugit/Max." Author's note: A self-beta, and written with a small boy in the room. All mistakes are his fault. Originally part of a scullyfic challenge -- write a love letter from one character to another. It's not exactly a letter, but, well, you'll see. Just Send the Darned Card By Sarah Segretti January 2000 Attempt #1 8:36 a.m. Feb. 25, 1997 He'd picked up the card at the CVS near his apartment on the way to work. Nothing special -- a photographed field of daisies, over-exposed and handpainted so that the yellow was especially brilliant -- but somehow he thought she'd like it. What he'd failed to notice, though, was that the inside was blank. And that meant he had to come up with a suitable message himself. He found a pen, and began drafting out possibilities. /Agent Scully-- Hope you had a happy birthday! --Agent Pendrell/ Zzzz. He quickly stuffed the piece of paper into the office shredder. Next time make sure you buy a Shoebox Greetings card or something, he scolded himself. Or just go out and buy another card with a message. No. He could do this. Attempt #2 9:46 a.m. /Dear Agent Scully --/ Too much? Oh, heck, Sean, he told himself, just go for it. /Dear Agent Scully -- Hope you had a happy birthday! Maybe I could take you out for a belated birthday lunch later this week? --Yours, Agent Pendrell/ /Oh, God, I just asked her out on a date!/ He instantly lost his nerve. The shredder ate another draft. Attempt #3 11:15 a.m. "Pendrell!" His pen stuttered across the paper. Darn it, he'd been on a roll. "What, Henderson?" "0 point 02? Is that right?" "What?" Pendrell walked across the lab to peer over his coworker's shoulder. "Oh, no. Point 002. Sorry." "Sorry doesn't get a conviction, man. Be careful." Pendrell nodded, hoping his face wasn't a flaming red, and went back to the reason he'd misplaced the decimal. Out of habit, he straightened his tie. /Dana -- Hope you had a happy birthday! Someone as lovely as you should always have a great birthday. I'm available for belated birthday lunches, if you've got time. --Thinking of you, Sean/ "Lovely." What if she took that the wrong way? What if she was the sort to see sexual harassment wherever she looked? Heaven knew there were enough women in the Bureau who would. Then again, that partner of hers would have been out on the street by now, from what he'd heard, if she was the sort to mind -- Oh, no. Her partner. Her arrogant, know-it-all partner. Who'd busted him once, if he remembered correctly. Well, okay, he remembered perfectly. "She's got a date," he'd said, and Pendrell's heart had fallen into his shoes and a couple of floors beyond that. And then to find out Mulder had been joking . . . Humiliating beyond belief. What if Mulder opened the card? Another draft went to the shredder. Attempt #4 1:57 p.m. Lunch was spent stewing over cowardice and other agents' obnoxious partners. It was very high school to think that way, but he couldn't help himself. He'd woken up this morning with the idea of the birthday card in his head, and it wasn't going to go away until he delivered it to her hand. Her small, manicured hand, which he suddenly imagined on his. Both of them were pale redheads with a smattering of freckles, but she was beautiful enough that he thought they could avoid the Farkle Family effect if they ever had children. /Dearest Dana -- Hope you had a happy birthday! Will you be the mother of my children? --Yours forever, Sean/ Yeah, that would go over well. Straight from "Agent Scully, I have the lab results you asked for" to . . . well, to way too much. Oh, well, heck, he thought, let's go for way too much and get it out of your system. Then you can write her an acceptable note. /Dana -- I hope it's not too presumptuous to use your first name, but it feels odd to call you by your professional title on your birthday! I hope you took at least a little time to celebrate. You seem like you work so hard -- well, we all do, but I've noticed a focus about you that most other agents don't seem to have. Like you're on a mission. It makes you beautiful, Dana. I've noticed that, too. That you're beautiful, I mean. We know each other in passing, as coworkers, but I think I can tell that there's more to you than Agent Scully. No one else pays me the courtesy that you do when you come for lab results or weird favors. The way you look at me, kind of shy -- I'll do anything for you, Dana, really. Like spring for lunch sometime, maybe? Then you can finally tell me what the deal was with that smallpox stuff, huh? Just kidding. It's probably above my clearance level. So, happy birthday, and I mean it about lunch. --Sean/ "Pendrell!" A bad word crossed his mind, one that he didn't normally use. "What?" Henderson was standing dangerously close to him, and Pendrell curled his arm over the paper as if he was hiding his test answers from a classmate. "The biweekly evidence meeting, man," Henderson said. "You're due to report on the Sydenstracker case. Let's go." Another extremely bad and rarely used word crossed his mind. He'd been working on other things all day. More interesting things, to be sure, but not the work he was paid to do. You know, he thought, looking at what he'd written, that's not half bad. I think I can live with her seeing that. He folded up the piece of paper and put it in his breast pocket, intending to copy the message into the card later, then headed off for the meeting. Attempt #5 6:02 p.m. Pendrell always felt like he'd been beaten up after one of those meetings, especially when he wasn't particularly well-prepared for his portion of it. /Very nice presentation on the Sydenstracker case, Sean, as if you'd never even heard of it. Fabulous, and with only three weeks to go before your annual review. Nice work, jerk./ The card, tucked under his keyboard, caught his eye. And what the heck were you thinking there, buddy? Pendrell thought, self-esteem in full downward spiral. She's too much for you. She's got that partner. You're only imagining what she thinks of you. You are totally begging for more humiliation. He leaned over his desk to dump an armload of files, and the paper rustled in his pocket. Without a second thought, he plucked it out and fed it to the shredder. "Yo, Pendrell!" He turned. Henderson and a few others were standing at the door, coats on. "We're going to the Headless Woman to recover from the meeting. Want to go?" Oh, yes. Oh, absolutely. A drink or two or three dozen would totally hit the spot right now. Pendrell grabbed his coat and joined his coworkers. The card lay on his desk, forgotten. -30- feedback to mrsblome@aol.com read the others at http://members.aol.com/mrsblome