From: Silver Fox Date: 3 Aug 1998 03:53:48 GMT Subject: NEW-- "Dream Lights" VA 1/1 Title: "Dream Lights" Author: Kathleen Brown Rating: R? Classification: V A? Distribution: Go for it, Gossamer. I love you guys. Spoilers: Nope. Summary: Mulder dreams. Disclaimer: Fox Mulder isn't mine, but if anyone's willing to give... Notes: Don't blame me, blame the tinkly music of track 23. And I adore J.C.Sun with my whole heart and I'd never try to rip off her. I don't think I am but I don't want anybody to think I don't see the however obtuse reference in the title. I know what I'm doing and I'm trying not to rip off. And it's late and I'm sick and I just back back from the best vacation of my life I'm not responsible for anything I do for at least a week. :) I love fanfic. Among other things. ~*~*~ Dream Lights ~*~*~ Music tinkled around him like a million tiny dancing lights, each one distinct against the black backdrop of his apartment. Mulder looked around, puzzled, carefully watching his apartment. All around him, lights were lit, like the tiniest of candles in the air, white Christmas tree lights, minute fluorescent pink flares. The room was alive with the tiny lights and, despite himself, Mulder laughed openly, incredulous, reaching out with his fingertips to graze the impossibly luminescent globes. The lights circled around his body, filling the apartment. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen, and as the small lights passed him, small puffs of air tickled at his skin. It was surreal. He laughed again, watching the tiny lights trace patterns in the air, one drifting close to his face. He watched it intently. It had no form, no distinct shape, merely a tiny sphere of light in the air, impossibly close to his eyes. Its light didn't cause him pain, and he watched as it ... flew? down to alight upon his fingertip. He lifted his hand in front of his face and gasped. The lights had completely covered his hand, outlining it's shape in the otherwise dark room. Mulder looked around in sudden recognition, and mild confusion. He was surrounded by fireflies. He took several steps back, tripping clumsily over his wooden coffee table. He landed in a heap, the fireflies scattering, flying away from his body in a single, unimaginable wave. Fox lifted his head out of the tall grass, watching as the insects carried on their quiet existence with no more regard for him than a tree, another obstacle to be avoided. He looked around and sighed softly, gazing into the dark evening and the moonlit sky above. The stars were familiar to him. Their far-off twinkle was something he had known from long ago, but now, even as he stood in a field he could clearly remember, he couldn't recall those stars, no matter how far back he searched within his photographic memory. He turned a slow circle around the field, trying to get his bearings, trying desperately to recall how he had gotten here. He slid through the grass and made his way to the worn, weathered house, following his long-neglected memory to the back wooden door. He moved gracefully through the cool blue night, his skin shining white and bare in the thin sliver of moon. The grass tickled him with an almost sensuality, but he endured it easily, his hand steady as he reached out for the ancient doorknob and the safety of the old building. He sighed with the aching familiarity of it all. Scully sat quietly at her desk while he entered and dropped his trench coat upon the rack, smiling slightly. He spoke out loud to her his greeting, then watched as her eyes lifted from her newspaper to his face. His eyes went wide with horror when the black film swam across her eyes and a smile spread across her lips. Mulder turned and ran out into the hallway. A bright flash blinded him momentarily and he turned back to find Scully lying in a heap upon the floor, her body turned into her own funeral pyre. Flames leapt toward him and he jumped back, his eyes wide in horror. The hands were as flames, voices screaming from the hellfire as they claimed Scully's soul. Mulder cried out in agony as the fire came to consume him, too, his body lit aflame, his dark suit burning, curling in melting tendrils around his skin as it, too, was seared away. His voice sang his horror to the very upper floors of the Hoover Building, their office lying in ruin, their bodies identifiable only by the dental work. "Two agents, one male, age 37, one female, age 33, died today in a mysterious fire that began in the basement of the J. Edgar Hoover Building early this morning...." Mulder's eyes snapped open, his body immobile, a light sheen of sweat covering him. He laid in complete stillness for a long moment, unable to move his arms or his legs, unable even to breathe more deeply than if he slept. Suddenly, though, his spell broke and he began to breathe frantically. He sat up on his couch and breathed deeply, trying to steady himself. Slowly he managed to stand, then absently shifted the coffee table back into place, thinking of the bruise on his shin where he had knocked it earlier. Mulder walked to his front door and checked the lock before making his way back to his couch, hanging onto the wall a moment to steady his shaky legs. He stood and let his dizziness pass, then flopped back down onto his couch, groaning wearily once before slipping back into unconscious slumber. All around him, the lights danced. And Mulder laughed despite himself. In his sleep, a smile spread across his lips. Copyright Kathleen Brown, July 22, 1998. -- *~*~*~* "I'm moist." -- Nic Lea -- at the preview of the XF movie. *~*~*~*~* [ kathyb@raven.cybercomm.net ] [ http://www.sqx.simplenet.com/kb ] X-Files University, Class of 98' -- The College of Fox Mulder Member ~*~ SPCDD