The BLTS Archive - The Visitors
by Merri Todd Webster (lonchura@yahoo.com)

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DISCLAIMER: Characters mentioned herein belong to Paramount and to
Fox. However, they have this odd habit of talking to me. . . Not
exactly a characters' revenge story; something of a crossover;
definitely a "You can't go home until you write this." I guess the
Boys are a little less busy with the baby. . .

Archive at R'rain's and the PKSP site.

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"So when do I get my chance with Agent Scully?"

It's a quiet Friday at the library where I work. We are closed to the
public, alas, but it's a great opportunity for me to use the computer
to write, print, surf, etc. When I look up from the terminal on our
office mezzanine, I see Harry leaning on the edge of the partition
that shields me from the world. His arms are folded over his chest,
and he is smiling faintly.

I recover from my surprise with admirable speed. "Tired of Paris?"

"I hope not," Tom says, coming up beside Harry and looping an arm
around his friend and lover's shoulder.

Harry turns and plants a quick kiss on Tom's cheek, then favors me
with a smile that causes a small warm puddle to form on the seat
beneath me. "I just like redheads," he says.

I smooth a hand over my own dark auburn hair and try to match that
smile. "So what do I get if I give you Scully?" I say seductively (as
seductively as I can, considering I'm a soprano).

Harry thinks for a moment. "You get to join us?" he suggests.

While I'm squirming happily in my seat at that thought, Tom speaks up.
"What about me?"

"What about you, hotshot?" I shoot back. "You want  another crack at
Mulder? Or do you want Scully, too? Let's  negotiate."

"I want you to pay attention to me." The expression on his face says,
"I know I'm whining, but I can't help it."

I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Tom," I say earnestly. "I know you
know I like Harry better. I mean, I don't usually like blonds, and,
well, you're harder for me to understand than Harry is. That's the
thing. I can identify with Harry so much more easily."

"Harry loves me," Tom points out quietly.

I smile fondly at the two of them. "I know he does. Haven't I given
you two my best? Given you each other? And B'Elanna,  too?" I pause
for a moment, wondering if the Chief Engineer is going to  show up and
throw me against the wall, like she did to Ny. Fortunately, nothing
happens.

"So talk to me, Tom," I go on. "Don't wait for Harry to do it! Didn't
I write my first decent story from your point of view?"

Tom grins, reminiscing. "Yeah. And I really appreciate it. Really." He
squeezes Harry affectionately.

"Well, okay," I say, glancing back at my computer screen. What was I
just doing? I look up to say something to the boys, but they're gone.
Instead, there's a tall, slim, brooding dark-haired fellow in a suit
and trench coat that screams "Government Type!" And with him is a
small red-haired woman whose blue eyes seem to be burning the side of
my face.

"Me and Tom Paris?" Mulder asks.

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The End