Disclaimer: I am in no way knowledgeable about The X-Files. I haven't watched it in years and years and I'm anything but a Mulder/Scully shipper. I'm not claiming this is remotely feasible, remotely canon, or any of that stuff. With that stated... I chose two interests off your list: Tolkien and Dana Scully.
"Scully."
The way she sets her book down and looks over at me is vintage Scully: she's got that whole what do you want now, Mulder? You're wasting my time look on her face. It's enough to turn a troll to stone at thirty paces or something like that. I never bothered to stop and measure distance with trolls, though: at least not until after the fact. They're too big and ugly and they hit really hard.
"What, Mulder?"
She's got that whole I'm too busy for your bullshit attitude down pat.
There's this thing about Scully that I'm never sure she knows, and it's that the line of her neck when she wears those silk shirts looks like some kind of swan's neck. It's worth bothering her just to check that out. From the safety of my desk where I can duck if she decides to throw something at me, I make a little bit of a show of rifling through the papers in my file folder, the ones about the chupacabra sighting last week in downtown Phoenix.
"What are you reading?"
It's late and she's got just as much right to spend her time with a book as I do with my files, but she already thinks I'm a little bit obsessed with work. Sighing, she closes the book and holds it up for me to see.
"The Two Towers. That'll come in handy if we ever have to go investigate random Ent attacks."
The way she lobs the book at me from across the room is entirely out of line, but it's worth it just to see her make that little disgusted expression. It's worth every bit of it.
no subject
"Scully."
The way she sets her book down and looks over at me is vintage Scully: she's got that whole what do you want now, Mulder? You're wasting my time look on her face. It's enough to turn a troll to stone at thirty paces or something like that. I never bothered to stop and measure distance with trolls, though: at least not until after the fact. They're too big and ugly and they hit really hard.
"What, Mulder?"
She's got that whole I'm too busy for your bullshit attitude down pat.
There's this thing about Scully that I'm never sure she knows, and it's that the line of her neck when she wears those silk shirts looks like some kind of swan's neck. It's worth bothering her just to check that out. From the safety of my desk where I can duck if she decides to throw something at me, I make a little bit of a show of rifling through the papers in my file folder, the ones about the chupacabra sighting last week in downtown Phoenix.
"What are you reading?"
It's late and she's got just as much right to spend her time with a book as I do with my files, but she already thinks I'm a little bit obsessed with work. Sighing, she closes the book and holds it up for me to see.
"The Two Towers. That'll come in handy if we ever have to go investigate random Ent attacks."
The way she lobs the book at me from across the room is entirely out of line, but it's worth it just to see her make that little disgusted expression. It's worth every bit of it.