Deslea R. Judd
deslea@deslea.com

Copyright 2002

DISCLAIMER: Characters not mine. Interpretation
mine.
ARCHIVE: Sure, just keep my name and headers.
RATING: PG.
CATEGORIES: Vignette, Angst, Jeffrey Spender,
Marita Covarrubias, allusions to Krycek/Marita.
SPOILERS: One Son, Existence, The Truth. Missing
scene.
SUMMARY: Waiting to testify, Jeffrey meets an old
acquaintance. Written for the Harem Jeffrey Spender
500 word challenge.
MORE FIC: http://fiction.deslea.com
FEEDBACK: Love the stuff. deslea@deslea.com.
 
 

She doesn't recognise you.

She looks on you for a fleeting moment, and offers
you a perfunctory nod. She shows no pity. No
dismay. You remember that she was maimed once too.

She sits in her chair, and she listens politely as
the guard outlines what will happen in the hearing.
You wonder if he knows who she is. That she has
presided over inquiries. That she has reported on
them to people in the highest levels of government,
both formal and shadow. That sometimes her
recommendations were followed.

You wonder if it would matter to him if he knew.

You wonder if it would have mattered to you. Would
you have tried harder to help her? It shames you to
know that you probably would. You were different
back then. Back then you would have respected her
for her former standing. Now you respect her
because she's still standing.

The guard finishes his narrative and retreats to
his corner. You look at one another across the
table.

"You're here to help him," you say. It isn't a
question.

She inclines her head. "Against my better
judgement."

"You'd leave him to rot?" It shouldn't surprise
you. You learned later that Mulder left her there,
just like you.

She makes a mirthless sound of amusement. Shakes
her head. "That bastard's not going to drag me back
down to his level." You wonder whether she means
Mulder, or Skinner, or both.

"You'd save him to spite him?" The idea amuses you
somehow.

A ghost of a smile appears on her face. "Something
like that." Then she surprises you. "But what about
you, Jeffrey?"

She recognises you after all. But how? You ask her.

Her eyelids flicker when she explains. "Alex spoke
of you."

"He spoke of you, too." That isn't precisely true,
but you know he thought of her. You saw the
dossier. You saw the softness around his eyes when
he said her name.

"Thank you for saying so." She looks away.

"I'm here because I don't have anything left to
lose," you say abruptly. "Mulder might not be much
of a brother, but he's the only one I've got."

That earns a smile. "Family solidarity? I'm
surprised you've got any of that left."

You grin. You wonder if it still looks like one.
"That bastard wasn't going to drag me down to his
level." There is a knock before either of you can
laugh at the quip.

The guard coughs from his post in the corner. "Miss
Covarrubias."

She rises. Suddenly she is composed. Austere.

She looks down at you. Now, there's sympathy in her
eyes. It doesn't bother you the way you thought it
would. "You know, there's something Alex used to
say. About the maimed." She smiles gently to
herself. You don't think it's a smile you were
meant to see.

"What was it?"

"He said we always leave our mark on the people we
meet along the way."

You think about it. "Yes," you tell her. "I think
we do."

"You leave your mark out there, Jeffrey," she says
kindly.

You nod. "You too."

She leaves you there. Leaves you to your thoughts.

About the three of you.

About the maimed.
 
 

END

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: I posted this to the list at the
stated 500 words, but I have tinkered with it
slightly to clean it up. So, consider it 500 words
with a 10% margin.
 
 
 

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