tm Challenge: Write About Your Mother

[melissa_hughes_]

My mother. Ok. I guess I’ll write about my mother. Anything to keep my mind off . . . The Squid. That’s right. I’m going to just pretend I didn’t hear the . . . I guess we’ll call it ‘ruckus’ . . . in his office the other day AND pay no attention to the graphic rumors flying around AND continue to believe those scratches on his face and neck

Comments

[alan_shore]

He was never yours, Melissa. There's something about claiming possession of a person that makes me inwardly shudder. Cast a blind eye if you must, but he is the subject of those graphic rumors (many of them true) and those various and sundry scratches were acquired in precisely the way you might deliberately choose not to imagine.

You know what you want--it's one of several qualities you possess that I find admirable. And you know me...well enough to have already begun pretending. Consider that I may not be what you want.

My mother tell me the use of the past tense was a lucky guess had blue eyes, blonde hair and a fondness for giving gifts. She made delicious french toast but only on Saturday mornings.

[melissa_hughes_]

He’s the one who’s pretending. Because he DID participate in the kiss . . . didn't he?

*opens filing cabinet and begins stuffing papers inside* You don’t need to worry about me, Alan. I’m a big girl, and you know what? I can wait. I can wait through Lizzie and through the Squid and the chick in the elevator and the chicks fighting over you on the floor and all the other inane debauchery you consider your love life until - you're ready to sleep with someone who actually admires and cares about you . How stupid do you think I am? I see what you’re doing here, Alan; you’re trying to protect me from you *looks at the particularly jagged scratch on his cheek and notes the irony* but you know what? We both know it’s going to happen. *closes filing cabinet drawer and turns back toward desk* Next season.

[alan_shore]

He's rather old for that.

*watches impassively until she's finished, although he'd rather she didn't pay such close attention to the cuts* I by no means consider you stupid, Melissa. I do, however, think you're infatuated--I'd include the word "dangerously" in that description if it weren't already implicit.

Don't wait. The only claim you have to me is a kiss, while I've known Lizzie--in almost every way possible--for years. I'm not yours. I'm your boss, nothing more, and as such I suggest you put your time to more productive use.

[melissa_hughes_]

*doesn’t answer him, but instead picks up a stack of papers on her desk, attempts to straighten it, and sets it down. Then picks up the same stack and attempts to straighten it again*

Alan *she finally says, to stop him from leaving* I guess I just, I don’t understand. I mean, *she looks around and lowers her voice to a whisper* you’ll do it with anyone; what makes you think it’d be so bad with me? *She interrupts his attempt at a reply, and walks toward him* You’re nothing more than a vaguely acquainted colleague to Marlene, I mean, you just met her like three days ago, I know you prefer it to not mean anything . . . so if you’re nothing more than my boss, *leans in close to whisper in his ear* why can’t we just . . . do it?