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A Walk in The Parkby Sheryl Martin
Dana Scully was having the most wonderful dream - something involving a dark-haired man; a pair of red fuzzy handcuffs and a four-poster bed... except suddenly the guy started to lick her nose with an enthusiasm she couldn't place...
"Dammit!" Wrenching her eyes open, she came face to face with the eager fuzzy face of the Pomeranian, panting furiously as his little pink tongue flicked out to soak her face again. Seeing that his victim was awake, he began to jump up and down on the bed.
"Alright, alright... give me a minute..." Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she reached for a worn pair of jeans and a thick sweatshirt. Paper-trained, yes... but even the little dogs needed their walks. And thank god he wasn't a German Shepherd.
Closing the door behind her, Dana tugged on the leash as the now-ecstatic pooch strained towards the front of the apartment building and the fresh air. With a sigh she sunk one hand into her trench coat pocket while keeping a firm hold on the leash. All she needed was to have some sort of accident at this time of the morning. On a Saturday, no less. At least Mulder could sleep in. When he wasn't chasing UFOs; that was.
The park was filled with other weary owners taking their dogs for the mandatory walk; the air reverberating with yaps and growls as the various sizes of canines staked out their territory and fought for superiority. Throughout it all; the small puffball proudly displayed his owner, the FBI agent, ignoring the larger dogs who snapped and whined.
Finally having enough of this fresh air thing; Dana plopped herself down on the nearest bench; tying the leash to the thick wooden beam that served as an arm. Putting her hand up to support her head, she closed her eyes and tried to replay the last few minutes of her dream.
"Excuse me... this seat taken?" Her eyes shot open as a tall man smiled at her; pulling back his Great Dane.
"Ah... no... no problem." She motioned at the open space.
Quickly tying up his own dog, the stranger sat down. He was dressed in a dark blue jogging suit; his long black hair pulled back into a sharp ponytail.
"Nice dog."
She stared at the small pony. "Yours too."
"So... come here often?"
With a shock she realised that this man was actually trying to pick her up. Make a date. Hit on her. Whatever. Good grief, that went out with the disco years... didn't it?
And was she interested?
"Ah... not really. He's paper-trained... and I travel a lot; so he stays inside my apartment most of the time. I bring him out when I can."
"Oh... I guess your husband lets you take care of him, then?"
Geez... this guy was a classic. "I'm not married."
"Oh." His face brightened. "I'm Alan. Alan Potter."
"Dana Scully." She shook his hand politely. "And that's a pretty big dog you have there."
"Left to me as part of the divorce settlement." He smiled. "She hated having to share the bed with him."
No kidding.
"So..." Alan pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "I'm an accountant." He passed over a small business card. "You know, the boring folks."
"Thanks." She didn't have anything with her; not expecting to have to display her resume. "I'm with the FBI."
"Oh, really?" He beamed. "That must be interesting."
"Yes, it is." Right. Now how to get out of this one. Maybe a tree would land on him or something...
Suddenly a snarl and a yelp disturbed the silence. Turning her head, she couldn't help but smile as the small Pomeranian let out a large bark and lunged at the Great Dane. Part of her mind winced at the idea of what was about to happen to the little dog; but part wanted to see what this little bundle of fluff was made of...
The Great Dane cringed away from the noisy brown furball; cowering under the park bench by its owner. Putting it's face down between the front paws, he stared mournfully up at Alan; pleading for help.
Scully couldn't help but laugh; seeing the now totally excited Pom jumping up and down on all four paws, yapping wildly at the larger and now totally intimidated dog.
Alan got to his feet quickly, tugging the leash to pull the dog to his feet. "Ah... I'll talk to you later, I guess..." His red face betrayed his embarrassment at seeing his pride and joy quivering under his feet like a pup. Trotting off quickly down the path, he didn't look back at the now hysterical woman.
"Come here, you." Dana patted her lap, immediately rewarded by the bounding thud of all ten pounds of dog. Panting happily, he lifted his head to lick her face again, eager to tell her about how he had bested the huge monster.
"You just can't take on anything small, hmm?" Pulling him up, she smiled. "Maybe I should call you Mulder, instead." Putting him down on the ground again, she pointed him at the distant apartment building. "Mind you, the idea of Mulder on a leash is kind of appealing..."
****************"If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than people with bodies and heartbeats."Richard Bach -- "Illusions"