couples_therapy - Useful
His name is Scott Richards. She met him on the Hill, the only place she ever goes or is, and they had argued for hours. Scott Richards, in addition to being precisely six feet tall and criminally handsome, is the chief of staff for Oregon’s Republican senator. Naturally they had much to argue about.
He is twelve years younger than her, but it’s impossible to tell. She looks ten years younger, and he acts ten years older. They seem to fit, insomuch as two people who get together semi-regularly to have sex and argue can fit. One typically leads to the other when they’re together, the order of events often surprising them both. At the end of the night, she goes home or he goes home, and neither carries the events of the evening over into the next day.
He knows she isn’t the type for a casual affair just as well as she does. But that doesn’t stop either of them. Martha Kent has never been accustomed to loneliness and does not take to it very well at all. At the same time, a loving, lasting relationship is not an option. She isn’t ready for that. Maybe she never will be. In any case, Scott Richards is the solution to her predicament. But Scott Richards may not be as content with their arrangement as she assumes.
On the morning of Inauguration, Martha wakes to find her bed is still as warm as it had been when she fell asleep. She frowns. Waking up together is not part of the bargain. She nudges him repeatedly, just about hissing his name, until he finally wakes up, blinking away remnants of sleep as his eyes slowly focus on her. “Good morning.”
Martha’s glare fixates on him. “Not good morning. Bad morning. Very bad morning.” He looks at her quizzically. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
Scott sighs, turning onto his back and rubbing his eyes. “Oh, for the love of god, Martha. What’s the big deal?”
She groans her frustration and jumps out of bed, wearing only a black slip, and gathers up his clothes from the floor, throwing them at him. “You have to go.”
For a moment, he just looks at her. “Who are you trying to hide me from? There’s nobody here.”
She folds her arms across her chest defiantly. “We’re co-workers.”
Scott Richards slips out of bed and begins to put his pants on. “We’re not co-workers. I’m Chief of Staff for an Oregon senator and you represent the state of Kansas. I don’t work for you. And we sure as hell don’t work together.” He zips up his fly, holding his shirt down at his side as he regards her with interest. “So why is it I have always have to be gone by daybreak?”
She is visibly hesitant, shifting her weight anxiously. “Because you’re not my husband.”
“Ah.” He walks past her, putting on his shirt, now going in search of his shoes.
“They’re in the kitchen,” she says, and he stops.
“What?”
“Your shoes are in the kitchen.” Where the night had begun so many hours earlier. And as they both remembered it, their respective expressions softened. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs, taking a few steps closer to her, shoving his hands in his pockets as he always did when conversations took a turn that concerned him. “What am I to you?”
It’s a long, long time before she answers. When she does, it shocks them both.
“Useful.”
Martha Kent
Smallville
582
He is twelve years younger than her, but it’s impossible to tell. She looks ten years younger, and he acts ten years older. They seem to fit, insomuch as two people who get together semi-regularly to have sex and argue can fit. One typically leads to the other when they’re together, the order of events often surprising them both. At the end of the night, she goes home or he goes home, and neither carries the events of the evening over into the next day.
He knows she isn’t the type for a casual affair just as well as she does. But that doesn’t stop either of them. Martha Kent has never been accustomed to loneliness and does not take to it very well at all. At the same time, a loving, lasting relationship is not an option. She isn’t ready for that. Maybe she never will be. In any case, Scott Richards is the solution to her predicament. But Scott Richards may not be as content with their arrangement as she assumes.
On the morning of Inauguration, Martha wakes to find her bed is still as warm as it had been when she fell asleep. She frowns. Waking up together is not part of the bargain. She nudges him repeatedly, just about hissing his name, until he finally wakes up, blinking away remnants of sleep as his eyes slowly focus on her. “Good morning.”
Martha’s glare fixates on him. “Not good morning. Bad morning. Very bad morning.” He looks at her quizzically. “You’re not supposed to be here!”
Scott sighs, turning onto his back and rubbing his eyes. “Oh, for the love of god, Martha. What’s the big deal?”
She groans her frustration and jumps out of bed, wearing only a black slip, and gathers up his clothes from the floor, throwing them at him. “You have to go.”
For a moment, he just looks at her. “Who are you trying to hide me from? There’s nobody here.”
She folds her arms across her chest defiantly. “We’re co-workers.”
Scott Richards slips out of bed and begins to put his pants on. “We’re not co-workers. I’m Chief of Staff for an Oregon senator and you represent the state of Kansas. I don’t work for you. And we sure as hell don’t work together.” He zips up his fly, holding his shirt down at his side as he regards her with interest. “So why is it I have always have to be gone by daybreak?”
She is visibly hesitant, shifting her weight anxiously. “Because you’re not my husband.”
“Ah.” He walks past her, putting on his shirt, now going in search of his shoes.
“They’re in the kitchen,” she says, and he stops.
“What?”
“Your shoes are in the kitchen.” Where the night had begun so many hours earlier. And as they both remembered it, their respective expressions softened. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs, taking a few steps closer to her, shoving his hands in his pockets as he always did when conversations took a turn that concerned him. “What am I to you?”
It’s a long, long time before she answers. When she does, it shocks them both.
“Useful.”
Martha Kent
Smallville
582