Serendipity Murphey barely restrained a yawn. She�d been bored on dates before, but this one was marking a new high on the scale. She looked over at her companion, Special Agent Tom Colton. He continued to talk, not noticing that she had ceased to listen an hour ago. He was handsome in a boyish sort of way, and had seemed to be interesting when he�d asked her out. For that matter, she still found him interesting. She�d never met anyone who could talk continuously with out saying anything. Well, other than the constant self-praise, and occasional unkind dig at other agents. It seemed that the only sense of humor the man had was wrapped up in Bureau gossip. In case that wasn�t enough, he�d taken her to Titanic, then to a Bureau �social� function. After that three-hour tear-fest that passed for a movie, and then the ever-so-exciting political maneuvering, Serendipity was ready to scream. She glanced back at Tom. He chattered away, something about his continued grudge against the �Spookys' in the basement. Personally, she�d rather be down there with them, than up here with *him*. She tilted the champaign flute to her lips, only to find it empty. Maybe I�ve had enough, she thought. Tom laughed, a false, toadlike sound. Then again, maybe not. Serendipity rose to her feet, slightly unsteady on the unaccustomed high heels. Tom looked up, and blinked. He�d also had a little too much to drink.
"Hey, where you going?" She gestured at the empty glass.
"I�m going to get a refill, you want anything?" He shook his head, and sipped at his own, half-filled flute. "Right, then. I�ll be back."
"I�ll be waiting!" That�s what I�m afraid of, she didn�t say. She made her way across the crowded room, her forest green dress whispering about her. If nothing else, she was delighted at the chance to wear it. She�d bought the dress a year ago for a party, but during a small earthquake she�d been knocked out by a falling picture. Spending the night in the ER for a mild concussion hadn�t been fun. Then again, she�d probably trade this night for that one. Well, Serendipity, she jeered, we aren�t feeling *too* sorry for ourselves tonight, are we? A fellow Agent hailed her from across the room and she waved in greeting. A few seconds more brought her to the bar. She gave the smiling bartender her order, then took her re-filled glass. She took a small sip, and made her way back across the room. From her position, she could see that Tom had hooked another victim, a petite red-head who looked around desperately for an escape. The woman looked vaguely familiar, but Serendipity had never been that adept at placing names to faces. She wondered if she should go over and rescue her. The woman suddenly jerked away from Colton, her voice rising. She stuck a finger in his chest and actually forced the larger man back a few steps. Serendipity felt a grin tug at her lips. Maybe it was Colton who needed the rescue. She took a step forward, and felt her foot twist under her. She yelped, feeling a spike of pain shoot up her leg. She stumbled forward, and an elegantly dressed woman reached out to steady her. Serendipity�s filled champagne glass seemed to jerk, and splashed onto the sequin studded front of her helper�s dress. The woman�s eyes, a startling shade of green, widened in surprise as she felt the cold liquid soak through the fabric. "Ooops." The woman smiled slightly.
"Indeed, my dear. Are you all right?" Serendipity began to nod as she gingerly put weight on her right foot. It protested sharply, and she hurriedly raised it. She grimaced and blushed, noticing the dark stain on the woman�s ice blue dress.
"Oh no, I�m so sorry about your dress..."
"Nonsense!" She interrupted, "It was an accident, and the dress will dry. Your ankle, on the other hand...or foot, rather could be seriously injured. Come over here and sit down. You shouldn�t put pressure on it" Suiting word to action, she had Serendipity seated at a nearby table before the younger woman could so much as open her mouth. "There, dear. Doesn�t that feel better? By the way, my name is Lydia. Lydia Stevens. And you would be?" Serendipity blinked, trying to catch up with her victim/rescuer. Finally, she remembered that a response was required.
"Murphey. Serendipity Murphey. Ummm, sorry about this..." Lydia glared indignantly, and Serendipity felt the apology die in her throat.
"Not another *word* about the dress! To tell the truth and shame the devil," Lydia leaned close, her green eyes sparkling with mirth, "I was getting dreadfully bored here. My escort was dragged off by comrades in arms about an hour ago, and I�ve been hovering by the buffet ever since. Oh, the pate�s to *die* for, and I mean that literally!" She gave an exaggerated shudder, and sat down. "Please say you�ll stay and keep a lonely stranger company?"
Serendipity cast a glance over at her original table. Tom was holding court with a few of the male agents, and from the extravagant gestures all were making, they were none too sober. She winced. Anything would be better than having to endure anymore of Tom Colton�s company. Besides, she soothed her conscience, she couldn�t walk over there anyway...and it wasn�t as if he was missing her. For once, her dubious luck had gotten her *out* of a untenable situation. With a sigh of relief, she turned back.
"I�d be delighted, Lydia." Her new-found friend smiled delightedly.
Serendipity couldn�t remember the last time she�d had so much fun at one of the Bureau�s social functions. Lydia Stevens had a lively intelligence, a caustic wit, and a positively wicked sense of humor. Despite the ten year gap in their ages, the two women found a great many shared interests. They talked for about an hour and a half, totally oblivious to the flow and press of the other guests. Predictably enough, just when Serendipity was feeling that things were going quite well, was when they all went to hell.
"Sera...Shenr...Murphey! Whatta doin over here?" Tom Colton wove his way to the table, and swayed. One glance told her that the agent had passed drunkenness some time ago, and was now working on alcohol poisoning. His hair was rumpled, his tie askew. In a man with his boyish good looks, it should have looked endearing. Instead, Serendipity felt a totally illogical urge to slap him sober. Ignoring the involuntary twitch of her hand, she replied benignly and carefully stood up,
"Sorry, Tom. I was mingling." She shot an apologetic look at Lydia. An understanding shrug was her friend�s only response. Lydia�s eyes brightened as she spotted something behind Tom and Serendipity. Serendipity tried to turn, but Tom chose that moment to try and trap her into a clumsy kiss. She tried to avoid it, but thanks to the ankle, she only succeeded in diverting his lips to slide along her cheek. Distaste flooded her. Tom�s arms trapped her briefly against his body, but with a deft wiggle, and hot protest from her foot, she disengaged herself, and took a shaky step back. Right against a firm masculine chest. In nearly the same instant, a harsh, familiar voice barked,
"Colton, don�t you and your date think you�d prefer a little...privacy?" She bounced off the speaker�s body and stumbled forward a half a step. With difficulty, she spun around to face...Walter Skinner. Again. If a hole to the deepest pit of the Inferno had offered itself, Serendipity would have leapt into it with eternal gratitude. Unfortunately, the opportunity failed to present itself. She saw his chocolate-brown eyes widen with recognition behind the wire-rims. For no reason at all, she realized this was the first time she�d actually seen him wearing the glasses, and that she didn�t care for the effect at all. Don�t go there, girl, at least not now!
"Shorry, sir. Jus...overcome by..." Walter�s voice cut across Colton�s, biting with icy sarcasm.
"Please, spare us the details." He turned his attention to the woman standing far too close to him for comfort. She was weaving slightly. His lips twisted slightly. For some reason, he hadn�t figured Murphey as one of Colton�s followers, and found the reality strangely disappointing. He swept his eyes over her slight figure, clad in a long dark green dress. It had to be admitted that she was enough to tempt any man in that dress. Even as she swayed, her high heels dangling from one hand, Walter felt a surge of attraction. He shrugged the feeling off uneasily, and stepped around her. Unsure exactly what to say, he said nothing at all. "Lydia, sorry about that. Business." His cousin stood gracefully, and smiled, but her eyes her hard with reproach. She glanced between Serendipity and Walter.
"Not at all, Walter. Let me make the introductions. Serendipity Murphey, this is my cousin, Walter Skinner. Walter..." Serendipity�s voice was strained as she interrupted ,
"We�ve met, Lydia." Behind them, ignored, Tom muttered petulantly,
"Nobody tole me you knew Skinner."
"Shut up, Tom." The words fell out of Serendipity�s mouth without conscious thought, an actualization of what she�d wanted to say to him all night. Tom started drunkenly, but she couldn�t bring herself to apologize, or even to feel guilty. Maybe it was the champagne. He fumed for a moment, then turned and stalked unsteadily off. She watched him go with resignation. "Well, there went my ride home for tonight."
Walter opened his mouth, to say something caustic probably, Lydia thought. She�d watched the proceedings so far with delighted interest, but now it was time to take a more...active role, lest her beloved cousin managed to mess things up. Before Walter could begin to speak, she exclaimed,
"Well! That�s no problem at all! You can ride with us, I�m sure Walter won�t mind." Two pairs of eyes, one a light silvery-gray, the other a deep-brown regarded her with disbelief.
"You can�t be serious..."
"You have got to be kidding..." The two protesters exchanged a look, for once in perfect agreement. Lydia beamed affably at them, but only Walter recognized the iron-clad determination behind the charm. It tended to be a dominant trait in the Skinner family. Silently, he groaned, realizing from great experience the unlikelyhood of winning the battle.
Serendipity, however, was determined not to spend any more time in Walter Skinner�s company. Even if he did look unbelievably yummy in formal dinner clothes. Scratch that, *especially* because he looked yummy. "Look, Lydia, that�s really nice of you to offer, but I�ll just get a cab. It�s no big problem, really." She retreated slowly, or tried to, anyway. She�d forgotten about her foot, and stepped directly back on it. A wave of pain greyed her vision for a moment, and she sat in the abandoned chair with several heartfelt curses. Walter frowned in concern, noticing for the first time the blue and purple swelling under Serendipity�s hose. Lydia tutted triumphantly.
"You see, my girl? You can�t possibly get home safely in your condition. Just relax, and for Heaven�s sake, *don�t* stand on that foot!" Serendipity blinked again, not exactly used to being treated as if she were 18, not 28. She shot an appeal to Walter. His facial features twitched in what looked suspiciously like a smile, and he sighed,
"Might as well give in now, Murphey, it�ll save everyone time. Besides, it�s not as if you�re that far out of my way." He grinned suddenly, a startling flash of white teeth. Serendipity gaped in surprise, and his expression disappeared quickly, replaced by the more familiar scowl. Lydia�s smile widened. There were all sorts of interesting possibilities here, with a little skilled help.
"Murphey, I�ve been thinking. I see no reason for us to be enemies, especially as we have just proven we can spend a period of time in each other�s company *without* anything catastrophic happening. So...truce?" She didn�t hesitate for more than a moment before replying,
"Truce."
"Good." He hesitated, then wished her a goodnight. With her assurances that she would be fine, he left her at her door, and entered his own apartment quietly. He paused for a moment inside his home, unknowingly mirroring Serendipity�s own frozen stance before she, too, hobbled inside for a bath, a bed, and aspirin...not necessarily in that order.
Once more, The End.
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