From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 23 Nov 2002 23:54:53 -0000
Subject: Eating the Peach by Oo
Source: direct

Reply To: smallpotato1@hotmail.com


Title: Eating the Peach
Author: Oo
Category: V/MSR
Rating: PG-13 for language I guess.
Spoilers: all things
Author's Notes: at the end
Feedback: Always. E-mail address in author's notes.
Disclaimer: On the first day of Christmas, Chris Carter gave
to me ... Mulder and Scully! So now I own them! 
wHeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!


"Shit, " she cursed as someone bumped into her, endangering her 
precariously balanced tray of greens, greens and nothing but 
greens. She felt her dining experience had been somehow 
cheapened by the fact that she could not indulge today. They 
were at a fast food restaurant for Christ's sake. Still, 
the ever-present nagging inner voice controlled her decisions, 
and the thought of trying to squeeze into her size 2 Donna Karan 
tomorrow severely outweighed the urge to give in to the grease. 
Even though he often told her that she could walk across a bridge 
made of popsicle sticks and it wouldn't collapse under her weight. 
He should talk; he didn't have to worry about the trivialities of 
the waistline. Men don't realize how lucky they have it.  She 
sat at her table, her thoughts floating like a hot air balloon. 
People seemed to be moving in slow motion around her. She was 
immediately reminded of her conversation with Colleen.
Slow down.  Take stock.  Precious moments.  Breathe.

Intent on bringing some positive change to her perspective, she 
narrowed her focus and closed in on her immediate surroundings. 
Now instead of slow motion, the people around her began to move 
in a more graceful and seemingly organized pattern. She was 
surprised to find herself humming a Copeland melody, and the 
world around her moved in time with the music in her head. She 
let herself relax, giving herself over to the Appalachian Spring.
The clangor of breaking glass jolted her from her reverie, the 
shattered dinner plate a victim to the rush of someone like her 
old self.  Absentmindedly, she swatted at a fly which had 
apparently decided that her ear made for a good lunch. Her 
thoughts drifted to another pest in her life.He was like a child 
running through the house after playing in the rain, tracking mud 
all over the perfect gleam of linoleum. His tracks, however, could
not be washed away. They were permanently imprinted on the surface 
of her heart.She could protest that fact until she was blue in 
the face, but it was a futile effort. She smiled at that idea, 
picturing Smurfette, but with red hair, unnecessarily high heels 
and a Sig Sauer conveniently hidden under cartoon clothes. Did the 
Smurfs even wear clothes?

"What's so funny?" a voice interrupted her inane train of 
thought. 

He sat down across from her, carrying a trayful of decadence -- a 
chocolate malt and a large order of french fries."Did you know 
that Brainy Smurf was meant to represent Leon Trotsky?"

"Did you know that a camel's hump is made of fat?" he countered 
while trying to pry off the stubborn lid of his shake.


She reached across her salad and stole one of his fries, quickly 
dipping in into his shake on the way to her mouth. Frosty fries 
are nature's way of saying, "Live a little!!" That's exactly what 
she intended to do. Life was too short not to indulge every now 
and then. Besides ... as hard as it would be to wedge herself 
into that suit in the morning, it would be worth it to watch him 
enjoy taking it off later that night. Her mouth twitched up into 
a ghost of a smile. He noticed immediately.

"Care to let me in on the secret?"

"Sure," she answered, pilfering another fry. "Tomorrow night."

"What's tomorrow night?"

Smiling, she sat back and gazed at his confused expression. She 
reached over and wiped a bit of chocolate from the corner of his 
pouting lower lip. She licked her finger and raised an eyebrow. 
Understanding washed over him, and he grinned widely.

"Tomorrow night."

End

Authors Notes: Whee! My favorite part! This fic began as a 
challenge from my roommates, so I guess I have to thank them 
*and stuff*. Mer Ber, Cinderalli and Lisey -- you are the best. 
Thanks for lying and telling me this was good. To my pocas, 
because I heart you. |_mTaMoOjCw_| This fic is Tinkermelb-
friendly -- please applaud my restraint ;-)  And to everyone 
at p2k ... because it is a great forum for open discussion. 
Http://www.philedom2k.com . Oh -- and to T. S. Eliot and Alli  
for the title.

Feedback is very much appreciated. Please send to 
smallpotato1@hotmail.com