Nothing and Everything

By Christine Leigh
leighchristine@hotmail.com


SPOILERS: None.
RATING: G
CATEGORY: V
SUMMARY: POV vignette.

DISCLAIMER: All characters are the products of Chris
Carter. They also belong to Ten-Thirteen
Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright
infringement intended.

Written for Fandomonium's Voyeur Challenge II:  Scully's
Turn.  Elements listed at the end.


Nothing and Everything
By Christine Leigh

Her face is turned from his as she hangs her coat.  He
watches.  Later when she goes for coffee he'll do the same.
Otherwise he plays it cool and keeps his eyes on the file in
front of him as they go about the business of their day.
That they again have shared days is something to which he
is still becoming accustomed.  There is no getting around
the fact that a remnant of fear is still there each morning
until she comes through the door.  His day doesn't start
effectively until this has occurred.

During her stay in the hospital they'd been warmer with
each other than they had ever been since becoming partners.
Twice he'd held her hand and once after she'd gone to sleep
he'd kissed her forehead.  He was always her last visitor and
it was a little bubble of a world they inhabited together for a
brief while.  Watching her go to sleep wasn't just a ritual
that calmed him in a way that no drug ever could; it also
helped to restore the strength that had eroded during his
three-month tour of hell.

Now she is on the computer, and when he hears the familiar
rhythm he bends to get something from the lower drawer of
the desk so that she won't see him grinning should she
happen to glance his way.  It is her insistent use of the
backspace key that causes this.  Scully loves her backspace
key, and hearing her battering it again is like music.  He
remembered a day last year when he'd inadvertently started
tapping his pencil in time to her editing strokes.  He'd been
doing it for a good minute before either noticed, and then
she'd given him the slightly raised eyebrow.  The
percussion section was silenced.  

It's a nice day.  Cool, but not yet too crisp to be outside and
he wonders if he should suggest lunch by the reflecting
pool.  For no particular reason this spot near the
Washington Monument seems to have become the place
they most often ended up when they needed to get out of
the office during a long day, and then also to meet after the
X-Files had been closed down.  He chases the latter
memory away.  Today he doesn't want to go there.  Yes,
lunch outdoors where the sun will do them both good
seems an excellent idea.  Among other things, he will be
able to look at her hair shining in the natural light.  Her hair
has become quite long and he's sure she'll cut it soon, but in
the meantime he is enjoying how it touches her shoulders,
and even curls a little.  He suspects that she works to keep
that at bay.

It is quiet now.  She is reading.  She's a terrific editor, and
almost never prints her reports until the next to the last
draft.  He, on the other hand, prefers his hard copy all the
way for editing.  They are different in so many ways, but he
never has felt more at home anywhere than he does right
here, with her there.  It isn't just that she's returned, but that
she remains.

Now she gets up.  Coffee.  He declines when she asks if he
wants any.  Then she turns to go, and he starts to tap his
pencil against the blotter as he watches her.  She opens the
door but then comes back to stand before him.  In an instant
she rests her hand on his, stilling his symphony.  He looks
at her and for a moment it is like it had been between them
in the hospital.  Just a moment.  Nothing has changed
except for everything.  

Then she goes.


- end  -


Challenge elements:
Mulder or other POV
Can have Scully doing anything
Pure description (i.e. little or no dialogue)
Must be a new fic


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