This was, as I say on the podcast, my First Fic Evar!!! I was so proud of myself for finally finishing something! It was really intimidating to try to write 1) a character from a show I’d never seen (Boyle); and 2) an enigmatic, hard-to-pin-down character from a show I love (Rose Quartz), but I had a really really fun time once I got going. After googling around for information about Boyle, I found myself wondering whether Karen’s Boyle/Rose pairing was inspired by the whole Boyle/Rosa situation. A thinkpiece at the Onion AV Club definitely influenced the ending. I can’t wait to write my next fic! (I *might* have some ideas about inappropriate situations for Mulder and Scully to get themselves into.)
The 24th annual National Local Law Enforcement Educational and Networking Conference (“NLLEENC:” an unsatisfying acronym if he’s ever heard one) was not as impressive as Boyle had hoped. The panel on interrogation left a lot to be desired by way of nuanced strategy, and, relieving any possible faith he may have had in the faculty, he noticed a typo in one of the sample search warrants. He was not going to learn from these people.
His colleagues back home were probably jealous right now, he thought, with a rueful shake of his head. He had won the timed crossword puzzle challenge everyone had reluctantly agreed on to decide who’d get this year’s slot, but by mid-afternoon on the first day of the conference, as he sat through his third tired powerpoint presentation, drinking his fifth cup of mediocre coffee in an indifferent paper cup, the victory was feeling more than a little hollow.
The lecture wrapped up and everyone else clapped enthusiastically. On the way out Boyle dejectedly went for a two pointer throwing the cup in the trash, but missed and hoped nobody noticed. He began to make his way down the hallway to “Document Security and You,” contemplated what he was in for, and suddenly stopped in his tracks. He turned on his heel, and strode briskly toward the sunshine streaming in through broad glass doors in the lobby of the conference center. As he exited, he slid on a pair of shades in what felt like a nonchalant sort of way, and sidled over to a nearby information kiosk.
“Excuse me, but by any chance could you tell me where I could find some Takoyaki?”
“Yeah, sure,” said the chubby blonde teenager. “Just head on down to Beach City.”
Boyle lay on a lounge chair perilously close to the sand, crunching fried octopus balls and futilely trying to somehow keep the crumbs off his fourth-best tie.
A warm breeze blew over the patio, and the nearby ocean waves and seagulls, while not quite the symphony, provided a suitable soundtrack. Skipping school could be pretty okay, he decided.
The calm was short-lived. A shriek ripped through the air, and then another, as a small crowd of teens ran across the beach in front of him. When he turned to see what the commotion was about, he heard a loud squawk coming out of a monstrous and entirely unfamiliar creature — a dragon-meets-centipede sort of concoction that looked like it belonged in a comic book. It was about 100 feet away from him, near the waves, and whipping its head around viciously.
“Of course,” he muttered, sitting up. He looked at his watch, remembering an article he read that said that clocks never work in dreams. 2:47. Shit. He reached for his gun, then his cell phone, then his gun, then his cell phone. As much as he worried about protecting the beachgoers, he’d better get the dispatcher to send down some guys from animal control before he tried anything stupid with the local fauna, right? As he fumbled to dial 911, he heard some steps and rustling behind him.
He prepared himself for the usual “Stand back, citizen bystander” speech, but as he turned, his breath died in his throat. Standing there was a freakishly tall, thick, statuesque woman with pink curls as wide as his wrist, wearing a pretty pink ballgown. Carrying a sword. She should have looked out of place almost anywhere, but something inexplicable about her made her look perfectly natural standing on the sunbaked sand next to his lounge chair like a fucking bizzarro Disney Princess. She was unspeakably beautiful.
“You are unspeakably beautiful,” he said. The words sprung from his mouth unbidden, and he reddened. She laughed a round warm laugh that seemed to vibrate down to her toes.
“I mean, excuse me, miss, but you’re going to have to step back while I-”
“Shh. Just wait here. Everything will be fine.” She smiled, and padded away from him on bare feet, towards the creature.
He put away the cell phone, and reached for the gun.
Before he could get to his feet, he watched from behind as the woman swiped down with her sword. He heard a poof sort of sound, and before he knew it, the woman, still smiling, was walking back to him, away from an empty patch of beach, a pink bubble in her hand, with what looked like a gem inside it. As she walked back over, she seemed to stash it somewhere he couldn’t see.
Boyle gibbered. “How- But, what-?”
“Don’t worry, it’s all taken care of.” A pause. “You’re new to this place?”
“I– yes. I’ve never seen anything like that. Or you.”
The woman chuckled.
“Look, come with me to go get a cup of coffee, and let’s talk” he said. “No,” she said. “Enjoy the sunshine!” and turned away.
He leapt up, and raced in front of her. “But wait! I know I I’ve just met you, but you are beautiful and strong and possibly a figment of my imagination? I haven’t really figured that out yet 100%. Anyways, look. I want to buy you dinner at the fanciest place within a few miles of here that will cater to whatever your dining restrictions may be. Preferably involving candlelight and a 1996 Valpolicelli Ripasso. And on the way there, I want to get you a bouquet of a dozen roses. Pink and white and peach. Somehow, you look like a rose kinda gal.” He smiled, and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
Unmoving, she cocked her head to the side, and looked at Boyle for a moment, bemused. Boyle’s hand quavered in the air.
“I hope you have a lovely dinner, but it won’t be with me. Funny, you were right about the roses, though.” She gestured, and suddenly, Boyle’s still-outstretched hand held a single pink rose. It twined up to look at him, and… purred?
“Goodbye!” she said, and walked off towards a set of nearby cliffs.
Boyle looked at the rose, and at the receding form of Rose Quartz.
The following day, the conference-goers all enjoyed gossipping about what the heck was up with the dreamy-eyed man with the pink boutonniere.