mulder and scully [fflur]

Fflur offered him a half-hearted grin. Sobriety was only a bit of a shame, really, but she was a good sport about it, at least, or, she thought she was, anyway; she wasn’t being a killjoy just because he wanted to have a drink. She could joke (and let him joke) about it: “Quite.” Besides the good things that came with sobriety--the obvious things--she couldn’t deny she was a bit of a bore now. She was still wrapping her head around that one, that her entire personality was so wrapped up in alcohol. She was circling back to her fun Tuesday morning introspection, and she tried to circle right back out of it.

She was happy, though, with it, with Robin. But Charlie was right, too; they had had fun. She smiled again, just a bit, trying not to reminisce too much. She shrugged and took another bite of her sandwich, trying to still be a little cool about it.

He asked about it, then, all of it, and Fflur’s eyebrows went up. “Er-- well.” And it was, all things considered. They had really only talked about it--her sobriety--a couple of times; the last time had been back whenever she got back off the wagon, when she surprised him with properly toasting his engagement. (Awkward.) She cleared her throat, set her sandwich back on her plate, brushing crumbs from her hands off with her jeans.

There was a beat of silence--no follow up questions--and she wondered if they could drop it, but she cleared her throat again after another second. “Will be a year next week, actually.” She’s made it longer this time around than her previous attempt, which had to be a good thing. “Here’s hoping for another,” she said casually as she reached for her tea in a mock-toast, a poor attempt to lighten the mood again.

Charlie nodded, glad that it was going well — if it was. She didn’t sound like she was lying, anyway. He wasn’t really sure what else to add to that, given it was her thing to elaborate on, if she was going to. He hesitated for a moment before picking up another chip and dipping it into ketchup.

He paused—chip halfway into his mouth—and flicked his eyes up to meet Fflur’s. “Really?” he asked, lowering the chip to give her his full attention. Well, her and his own mental arithmetic — if it had been a year— Christ. A year ago he’d been fresh back from his honeymoon. If he’d been told then what would transpire across the next twelve months, well, he probably would have believed it, to be fair. He’d never held himself in particularly high regard when it came to relationships — and for good reason, evidently.

Fflur was holding her teacup aloft, Charlie quickly picked up his lager to join her, catching up to what was going on, then grimaced. “Maybe next time we can catch up somewhere that ain’t a pub,” he suggested, having a sip anyway because he wasn’t about to waste it (and he was sure Fflur wouldn’t want him to anyway). “Can see if anything decent’s coming out at the cinema or summat.” He picked up his knife and fork and ate more of his fish.

“Or you can come over, if you like. Can get some DVDs—” he paused, under the pretence of chewing, when really he was trying how best to word it: “If you think Rob won’t mind.” It wasn’t like he was suggesting a sleepover, but if Fflur wanted to stay the night he wasn’t going to kick her out — but he was still acutely aware that Robin didn’t come up in conversation as much as he had before Charlie had had fuck up after fuck up.

Fflur nodded. “Really.” She couldn’t remember the details of the Last Drink, which was probably for the best; it wasn’t there in the back of her mind, constantly reminding her of what she thought she was missing.

He suggested they meet somewhere that wasn’t a pub, and while that was a genuinely nice suggestion, Fflur’s smile was closer to a grin. “I kind of like how Madam Rosmerta hates you, though.” They hadn’t really discussed it, but the looks were obvious enough, and if Fflur thought about it hard enough, it had started right around when Charlie had gotten married. And then Fflur’s dinner had been on the house for a week after breaking his nose-- she hadn’t mentioned that yet, wasn’t about to now.

The cinema was a good idea, at least. Quiet, something to keep her occupied. Fflur nodded and sipped at her tea again.

She liked his follow up idea more, though; the less crowd there was, the better. There was a film she’d heard about, couldn’t remember the name-- if she thought Robin wouldn’t mind. It took her a second to realize what he was getting at, a whole second to remember what they had just been talking about. Did she need to remind Charlie that she had told Robin about how horribly bad that Night was?

Needless to say, she didn’t think Robin was worried about Charlie; or, he wasn’t worried about Charlie and Fflur. There were plenty of reasons to worry about Charlie. Besides: “He knows I’ll break your nose if you try anything,” she said with a shrug, picking up her sandwich again.

[out]

Fflur grinned and Charlie mirrored her expression— though his face quickly fell when she confirmed the hatred he’d long suspected the landlady for him. Admittedly, he probably deserved it. He shrugged and picked up his lager to have another sip, pausing just before he did so to say “She’s probably just jealous,” without thinking it through.

But she nodded at his suggestion of the cinema, which was good because he could be a lot more supportive of her not drinking when he wasn’t doing the same — and it was easier not to be tempted where it wasn’t available.

Charlie watched as Fflur cottoned onto what exactly he was getting at—checking in with the boyfriend—and then scowled, bottom lip protruding in a soft pout, when she threatened to break his nose again. “Not funny,” he said, putting a chip in his mouth and chewing (it would’ve been funny had it been anyone else of course). Nevermind that he wasn’t going to try anything anyway; subconsciously, he turned to look out the window, across the street to Honeydukes.

He blinked and focused back on his food, cutlery back in hand. “Right then. Let me know when suits and I’ll go to Blockbusters. Or we can go together, whatever you want.”
 

[ end ]