Subject: NEW:"The Box" By: The Lone Gungirl From: Sunny Zellis Date: Sat, 27 Dec 1997 22:26:53 -0500 Rating: PG-13, lotsa swearing, be warned... Category: VHA Spoilers: Tempus Fugit/Max Keywords: Poor, poor Pendrell dies yet again... Summary: What Pendrell was really thinking right when he was shot.. Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, the so-called characters on a certain so-called show belong to a so-called Chris Carter. But we're all working for the military industrial entertainment complex anyway, so who cares? :p *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "The Box" By: The Lone Gungirl thelonegungirl@geocities.com *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "Awwwwwwwwwww MAN!" I said, noticing that the words sounded not a little drunk, but a lot drunk. But who the hell cared? I'd forgotten the box. The damn box. My whole point for coming here tonight. I'd heard that SHE and Mulder had partied down at this pub last night, and I'd gotten here right when SHE and Spooks were leaving. I'd remembered the box last night. How the hell could I have forgotten it tonight?! What the hell was that? Aw man, you knew you you were stone-cold drunk when you started hearing voices. Thank yooooooooooooou, little voice just saved my ass. Wait! There SHE is! Who's that dumbass with HER? Who cares? SHE's heading my way anyway. "Hey, birthday girl!" "Oh hi, Pendrell." Damn, SHE's hardly looking at me. Time to pull some of that chivalro..chivalru...chiver...ah, hell, that polite bullshit. "Here, here, lemme get that. Hey, um, three Birthday Girl drinks!" And I picked 'em up, and carried 'em off, and that's when some loud crack pounded in my ears and in my ribcage at the same time. I barely felt it when I hit the ground, but when I roll over onto my back, my guts go liquid fire, and I am sober now, oh boy, am I ever sober... It's so hard to pull a breath, it feels like someone dropped an anvil on my chest. "Pendrell, do you hear me? You've got to breathe." SHE swam into focus, and that was a godsend if there ever was one. Yeah, breathing seems like a good enough idea now. "I'm not letting you off the hook that easily. You still haven't given me my birthday present yet." I can't help but crack a smile at that one. Hey Dana, my birthday isn't too far down the road, maybe when this is all over and done, I can give you your birthday present, and you can give me mine. There's a drop of blood dripping from her nose, but I don't know if its mine or not, and just when I get it in my glance, she notices it and wipes it away with a tissue, but she's not reacting with disgust. More like fear. I'm not that fargone, am I? But wait, there's more. She's having a nosebleed, its not mine, thank God. Stupid paramedics came just when I was getting used to HER straddling my chest. And SHE went off to go stand with that bald fuck, Skinner. I hate that guy. Refused to even consider me wanting to transfer to the X-Files. Jerk. They come to see me more than they hide out in that damn basement. I'm in the ambulance now, and things are starting to go all blurry. They cut my clothes away, and a little box falls out of my pocket. I remembered the damn box after all. Too late. THE END Just something short and sweet I thought up while watching Herrenvolk last night for the bazillionth time. PENDY LIVES!!!