by Susan L. Minnick
This fanfic might seem a little dated, but I was watching my tapes the other day and decided to try and interpret just what the look on Betty's face meant at the end of "Who's Scott Sherwood"; it turned into a story! It's my first writing attempt on the wennlist, so give me your opinion.
Disclaimer: "Remember WENN" and it's characters are copyright AMC/Howard Meltzer Productions and the Entertainment Group. This story and any original characters within are copyright Susan L. Minnick 1998 all rights reserved.
It was a stormy night and Betty found herself wishing she had skipped her hot cocoa break with Mr. Eldridge that afternoon so she could've finished the next day's scripts without pulling another late night.
Not that she could sleep if she had the chance. Every time she closed her eyes the words came creeping back; "Oh, what the hell...." For days she couldn't get that kiss out of her mind. *Why?* she wondered, staring at the familiar keypad of her Underwood.
When Victor had kissed her it was something to remember. Victor, the man she loved, had come back from the dead just to tell her he loved her back, he never forgot about her through the Blitz, and the briefings, and God knows what else happened during the months he was away. His kiss told her that, and she never wanted to forget it.
Scott's kiss was something that she didn't want to forget either- and that's what confused her. Scott Sherwood was nothing but a scaming, conning.....gentleman. She had to admit he was a gentleman. The first person that came to mind when someone said Scott Sherwood's name was Clark Gable, more notably Rhett Butler.
Betty never thought she was the type to be a Scarlet O'Hara, but she could relate to her more and more each time she thought about the past weeks at WENN. Victor was the man that she was drawn to since coming to the station; Scott was the gentleman that, although she didn't like to admit it, intrigued her extensively. Victor was the hero; he had given his life for his country. Scott was using the station for his own personal benefit.
He was one heck of a kisser. At first, Betty couldn't believe he had done it. *How dare he!* she thought even now as she recalled those few seconds in the doorway. She had found him out for the liar and thief he was. *He had no right to do that!*
After he let her go and left, however, it was a different story. She could remember the sleepless night she had, wondering where he had gone, and what he had done. *It was obvious that contract with NBC was a complete fake.........* She shook herself out of the sympathetic thought and back to "Valiant Journey". Dreading the thought of Hilary complaining about never-ending amnesia popping up in the plot again she looked at her watch. "Just about 2 a.m.", she sighed to herself. Then, quickly remembering, she slammed the cover on the typewriter and ran out of the room.
With a flick of her wrist she tuned the radio in the Green Room to shortwave. It would be about seven o'clock in Berlin; time for Victor to start broadcasting. Easing onto the red velvet couch she waited to hear her hero's voice, even if it was masked by a horrible Texas accent.
*Why Victor? Why couldn't the army have picked someone else from the hospital? Victor was just doing his duty, and deserved to come home. Then maybe none of these things would've happened. There wouldn't be a "Victor Comstock Memorial" to worry about, there wouldn't be the duty of dealing with Mr. Pruitt, there wouldn't be the job of fixing Scott's mistakes,*
"There wouldn't be a Scott.", Betty declared to herself. The thoughts of not having to deal with Scott Sherwood had crossed her mind ever since the fast talking manager had come to the station; now she found herself regretting them. Scott had led them on a holy rigamaroll, but now that he was gone Betty realized the station wouldn't be the same without him.
She laughed to think of the scams he pulled; "All News Wednesdays", the "Agitato Alert", *he really did care about the station after all.*, she thought. *After all, who would risk falling off a ledge to keep the station broadcasting? Who would dare sell static to one of the best sponsors the station had?* Granted, his schemes were wild and crazy, but through it all Betty always found herself laughing in the end, even if it was only to herself.
Now all that laughter was gone. In its place was a cold-hearted Scrooge of a Station Manager and the vague hope that somehow Victor Comstock would one day arise from the dead. Scott, although she hated to admit it, had become her anchor through a lot; always thinking up a quick solution or giving her a compliment when she needed one. *I'm going to miss him a lot.*, Betty thought with regret.
"Yeee-haw!" The startling cat call of Jonathan Arnold brought Betty out of her thoughts. She listened intently to the traitor's voice, trying to detect the slightest hint of the man she knew as Victor Comstock. Betty had noticed lately that Victor was beginning to sound more and more convincing as America's Benedict Arnold. Listening to him was like listening to another person; it scared her in a way.
For days after he left, Betty contemplated going into the strongbox and establishing communication with Victor's contact- just for the chance of hearing a glimpse of information about the man she loved.
Did she love him? When he died it was the end of her world; she had regretted not taking the chance to tell him how much she cared while she had the chance. When he did miraculously appear from the dead she took it as the miracle she had been praying for. Scott changed all of that with those few words.
"Oh, what the hell......."
She couldn't get that thought out of her mind. He was a rogue, a liar, a con-man, and a theif. Scott's background was shady; what kind of a man would ask her if she ever ate a barnacle?! Yet, his travels interested her; she never met a man who had visited the some of the most exotic places in the world before....
Authors - M
