"I Notice These Things"
by Jean Helms 

I see a lot more than people think I do. 

Nobody pays me much attention: I'm the assistant director's administrative 
assistant -- nobody important -- so to them I'm just there, like the furniture 
or the potted plants. Just part of the atmosphere ... until they need something, 
that is. 

But I'm not furniture. I'm real. And I see a lot. 

I mean, I see a _whole_ lot more than they think I do. 

I think some of the people around here are starting to realize it, though. 
Like last week, when Agent Cruthirds retired and we had that party at the 
bar down the street, the one where all the agents go after work. 

They never ask me to go along, but I went this time anyway. See, I like Agent 
Cruthirds -- he's always been nice to me; he always says hello to me when he 
comes into the office, asks me how I'm doing, offers to get me a soda when he 
goes down to the break room. That's unusual, believe me. 

But I didn't go just because it was Agent Cruthirds' last day -- I went because 
I knew Walter was going to drop by, for a while anyway, and I wanted a chance 
to see him outside the office. 

I know that sounds dumb, because I spend the entire day sitting about 10 feet 
from him. But I hardly ever get to see him socially, and that was all I really 
wanted that night. It didn't have to be much -- just, “Hello, Kimberly, how 
are you, good to see you," would have been enough. "Can I buy you a drink?" 
would have sent my spirits soaring, and "Would you like to dance?" probably 
would have caused me to die of ecstasy. 

I knew it wouldn't happen, but a girl can dream, can't she? 

So anyway, there we were, and this stupid bet got made and the next thing I 
knew, I was in on it. 

See, it started with Agent Colton (who hates Agent Mulder for reasons I don't 
exactly understand), but he made it a challenge: Play a song on the jukebox 
that'll get agents Mulder and Scully up and dancing together and you win the 
pool. 

So everybody was crowding around the jukebox trying to see what was on there, 
and Agent Colton made them write the name of their song on a piece of paper 
with their name on it. It cost $10 to put the paper in the hat, and there were 
lots of people anteing up -- the pool had more than $200 in it before we even 
got started. 

I didn't get in on it at first. I knew what Agent Colton was up to. He wanted 
them to do something silly and romantic in front of people, something that would 
make them look really stupid and give everybody there a good laugh. 

Well, there were a lot of people dancing, so it's not like they would have been 
the only ones. But I could have told Agent Colton that getting those two to dance 
wasn't going to be easy, because they're not stupid: Whatever their relationship 
is, it's private. They make that very clear, without saying one word. 

Now, understand, I know they're more than just partners. Everybody knows that, 
because you'd have to be blind, deaf and willfully ignorant not to. I also know 
that everyone thinks they're sleeping together, but they're not. I couldn't say 
how I know that. I just do. 

Agent Colton's song was first -- he went with "Angel," by Sarah McLachlan, and 
you'd have thought that would be a good choice, but no -- the agents just sat 
there like nothing was going on. They were just oblivious to everybody but each 
other, as usual. 

Well, you know, not completely. I mean, she would get up sometimes and go speak 
to someone else, and sometimes someone would go sit by him and talk to him for a 
while. But sooner or later it was back to just the two of them, sitting in the 
corner, not even touching, really. Just talking together, sometimes smiling, 
sometimes not. 

But it's always like that with them -- like they're two halves of the same person. 
I know. I notice things, remember? I'm there when they're waiting to see the 
assistant director, and I know -- better than Walter does, actually -- just how 
close those two are, because I see them argue sometimes. 

They don't argue out loud or anything -- not in the outer office, anyway. When 
theyīre alone, itīs another matter. I've been downstairs, once or twice, when they 
were really getting angry at each other, and they got pretty loud. I could hear 
them just fine even with their door. 

But when they get upstairs, they donīt yell or even talk loud: they whisper, or 
else they just donīt talk at all. They just sit there and look at each other that 
way -- and I don't have to see anything else to know that they're really, really 
pissed at each other. 

But when they get into Walter's office, it's like nothing ever happened. You'd 
never know there'd ever been a cross word between them; they act so calm, like 
they just couldn't agree more with everything the other one's saying and 
everything's just so wonderful. 

They just never criticize each other in front of someone else. They get angry 
while they're in there, all right, but almost never at each other. 

It's not just that "us against the world" thing that gives them away, though. 
I've seen a lot of agents sitting there waiting to talk to my boss, and they 
never sit as close together as agents Mulder and Scully do. 

And nobody else ever looks at their partner the way those two look at each other. 

Sometimes, when they're waiting, I've seen Agent Scully reach over and straighten 
Agent Mulder's tie and I've seen him touch her cheek, just with one finger, to get 
her attention. I've even seen them hold hands, for just a second. 

You can bet they don't know I see that stuff, because they wouldn't have done it 
if they thought anybody could see. But no matter how nice they are to me, I'm the 
"secretary" and I'm still kind of invisible to them. Most of the time, they hide 
their feelings as much as they can, which really isn't much. 

They do love each other, you can see that. But they're not lovers -- not in the 
"body part A plus body part B equals sex" sense. In every other sense, though, 
I think they are. That's why that damn bet got started in the first place. 

I didn't really want to bet at first, because I knew Agent Colton was trying to 
play a dirty trick on them and I didn't want to do that to them. I like them, 
and I feel sorry for them sometimes. I see how much he cares for her, how 
important she is to him (even if he doesn't touch her much at all) and I'm 
sad that -- for whatever reason -- they just can't take their relationship 
to the next logical step. 

But I knew exactly what kind of song they would want to dance to, and I could 
have told Agent Colton that nothing as romantic as "Angel" was going to work. 
They weren't about to get up and dance to Agent Deville's choice, "Color My 
World," either, or anything sappy like that. No way. 

The next song was picked by one of the guys from Sci-Crime. I don't know his 
name, but he must know the agents because he went with "Can't Help Falling in 
Love." Everybody knows Agent Mulder's an Elvis fan, and that's such a 
romantic song ... 

But like I said, if there's any romancing going on, it's going on where the rest 
of us won't see it. That song wasn't going to do it. I could have told him that, 
but nobody ever pays any attention to me. 

People tried lots of other songs. Becky, AD Kersh's assistant, chose "You Are My 
Lady," and Agent Miller from VICAP picked "Desperado," which has always reminded 
me of Agent Mulder, but I knew it wasn't going to work. 

Somebody else tried "Because the Night" by 10,000 Maniacs, which I love and which 
I think is really sexy, but it's way too sexy for them to respond to in public. 
That one was a loser from the get-go. 

The game went on for a long time: People tried oldies, new songs, love songs, 
unrequited love songs and sexy songs, uptempo songs, ballads, dance numbers, 
and nothing happened. The agents just sat there, drinking club soda and 
talking to each other. 

Everybody there was barking up the wrong tree. So after a while, when they'd 
gone through every song in the hat, I put in my $10 bucks and played it. 

I didn't want to embarrass them or anything, and I guess I knew I wouldn't. I 
did it just to pass the time while I was waiting for Walter to show up, hoping 
against hope he'd at least come sit by me for a minute -- I mean, I'm his 
administrative assistant. It wouldn't be unnatural for him to stop and speak 
to me for a while, would it? 

I really think Walter draws more attention to us avoiding the most natural 
things, like taking me to lunch or walking me to my car, than he would if he 
did them. He worries too much about what people will think, but I think it looks 
even more suspicious that he never does those things. They're such a normal 
part of working with someone, you know? 

I mean, Agent Mulder and Agent Scully have lunch together a lot, and they 
almost always sit together when they're out somewhere -- like they did that 
night. He helps her with her coat, he opens car doors and office doors for 
her, and he holds his umbrella over her even if it means he gets rained on, 
all that kind of thing. 

In fact, if I need to find Agent Scully after hours and she's not at her 
apartment, I always call Agent Mulder's number next, even before I try her 
cell phone. That's usually where she is -- sometimes real late at night, and 
sometimes even when he's out of town because I think she feeds his fish or 
something -- and they don't care who knows it. They don't act embarrassed 
about it at all. 

And I know, I mean I'm almost positive, there's nothing sexual going on 
between them. 

Well, you know, I don't watch them 24-7 and I have no idea what goes on when 
they're in the field, but you know what I mean. There are just things about 
them ... well, like I said, I notice these things. 

So there I was, trying to act casual and not whirl around to see if it was Walter 
every time someone walked in the place, and I walked over to the juke and started 
looking. 

It took me a minute, but I finally found a good one, and it worked perfectly. As 
soon as "Flying Purple People Eater" started playing, Agent Mulder was on his feet, 
holding out his hand to Agent Scully. She laughed and got up, and they danced. 

Everybody was amazed, but really, it should have been a no-brainer. Nobody ever 
seems to realize that Agent Mulder has a sense of humor, but he does -- a weird 
sense of humor, but a sense of humor just the same. I knew that song would appeal 
to him and I knew Agent Scully would go along with it if he wanted her to. 

See, she has a sense of humor, too, and almost nobody knows that except him -- 
and me, of course -- but I think that's not the only reason she danced with him. 
She just doesn't get to see him smile very much, and he was smiling that night. 
He was dancing just a little closer to her than you usually would if you were 
dancing with someone who's just a friend, but not so close you'd automatically 
think she was his girlfriend. 

And she was smiling back, and they were laughing. She is so pretty when she 
smiles, especially when Agent Mulder's the one who made her smile. She never 
smiles for anybody the way she smiles for him. 

I tried to imagine Walter holding me like that, smiling and laughing with me like 
that right in front of the rest of the staff and the agents, and I couldn't help 
it -- I started to cry. 

I didn't want to cry in front of everybody -- not that they paid much attention 
to me, at least not before that damn song started playing -- so I ran to the 
ladies' room and hid in one of the stalls until I calmed down a little. When 
I came out I went over to the mirror and redid my eye makeup. 

And wouldn't you just know it -- Agent Scully came in, and she looked so happy. 
She was kind of smiling and her eyes were all sparkly and her face was just a 
little flushed. I don't think it was because she was worn out from dancing, 
either. 

She said hello to me, but then, she always does. For a minute, I saw her 
looking at my eyes, which were still kind of red, and I thought she was going 
to ask me what was wrong but she didn't. I guess she could tell I didn't want 
to talk about it. So she brushed her hair and put on more lipstick and left me 
alone. 

Funny -- I'd never noticed it before, but she wears exactly the same kind of 
lipstick that I do. It's called "Naked Bronze," and it's from Just For Redheads. 
I buy all my makeup from them. 

She left the ladies' room before I did. When I came out, she was gone -- and 
so was Agent Mulder. I guess they left together. I don't really know. 

People were all asking me how I did it, how I got the right song, but I didn't 
really want to talk about it right then. I didn't really answer anybody until 
Agent Markewicz asked me where my boss was going tonight. 

"As far as I know, he's going to be here," I said, trying to be casual. 

"Oh, yeah, he was here already," Agent Markewicz said. "He left, though; he came 
in and said something to Cruthirds, then he sat down with Mulder and Scully 
for a few minutes. Then he said he had somewhere he had to be and he left. 
Does he have a girlfriend or something?" 

He'd left? How could he leave? I'd told him I would be there, I'd waited for 
nearly two hours for him to show up, and when he got there, he left without 
even waiting to speak to me. 

I don't remember what I told Agent Markewicz. I just know that I went home 
and spent a long, long time looking in the mirror. 

I could just imagine what happened while I was in the ladies' room. I could 
see it like I'd been there, because I know how Walter acts when he sees agents 
Mulder and Scully together. He likes them, and I know he thinks they're both 
great agents, but when he looks at them it's almost like he's seeing something 
he doesn't exactly like but can't do anything about it. 

But that night, I figured it out. I knew what it was he didn't like, and I knew 
that he had done something about it, and not too long ago, either. 

I remember that day so well. Agent Scully came to his office and just brushed 
right by me like I wasn't there. I heard her telling Walter something about 
Agent Mulder being in trouble, and then she got all mad and left. 

A little while later, Walter -- I mean, Mr. Skinner (that's what I have to call 
him at work) -- came out and asked me if I knew where Agent Scully went. I didn't, 
and I told him so. 

He left. When he came back, he was almost smiling and there was lipstick on 
his mouth. 

And that afternoon, he kissed me. He put his arms around me and kissed me, right 
there in his office -- which is the only time he's ever even touched me at work. 

But I didn't care, because before too much longer, he was coming over to my apartment 
at night -- after midnight, always after midnight -- because he said he didn't want 
anyone to see him there. Whatever. I was so smitten with him, so happy that he had 
noticed me, that I went along with it. 

Sometimes, when I was expecting him, he'd call me late at night and he'd tell me we 
had to back off a little, that it was getting too complicated. And I would cry, but 
I would go along with that, too. I was so afraid he'd ask me to resign if he saw 
that I couldn't deal with it that I forced myself to be calm and act like nothing 
ever happened. 

For a long time, I couldn't figure it out. What was with this sneaking around, 
this "oh, we can't see each other anymore?" I knew he and Mrs. Skinner were divorced; 
you can't hide that kind of thing from your administrative assistant, believe me. 
So it wasn't that. 

After a while, though, he'd always come back to me, and I would hold him and touch 
him and try everything I could to make him happy. Afterward, I would talk to him and 
tell him how wonderful a lover he is and how happy he makes me, but I've never told 
him I love him even though I do. He gets this weird look on his face if he even 
thinks I'm going to say that, and he sure never says it to me. 

I know. I'm a doormat. I should tell him to get lost. I should transfer to the New 
York Regional office. I should leave the Bureau. I should get counseling. I've told 
myself all this so many times before, and I never listen. 

I am so stupid, but I just keep thinking that if I play by his rules, do everything 
just the way he wants it, he'll see someday how much he means to me, because, pathetic 
little creature that I am, I love him. I really do. 

He wouldn't even have to say it, if just once he would look at me the way Agent 
Mulder looks at Agent Scully. 

It'll never happen. He doesn't really love me and I know it. I try my best, but 
I just can't make the sex good enough to change that. 

And when he came over that night, right after midnight, for the first time ever 
with him I just couldn't get into it. He was really sweet to me, and he tried 
everything to please me, but nothing happened. I felt kind of bad about it, but 
I just couldn't help it. 

Every time he touched me, I kept remembering what I saw when I looked in the 
mirror -- what he sees when he looks at me. 

Red hair, cut in a mid-length bob, a freckled nose, green eyes. Slender, but 
not very tall. Even the Naked Bronze lipstick. 

See, it's like I told you: 

I notice these things. 

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