From: vic ho Date: Mon, 07 Dec 1998 23:35:32 +0800 Subject: NEW : I Want To See You Smile ( 0 / 2 ) This is the disclaimer bit, the meaty bits follow in the next posts - Title : I Want To See You Smile ( 2 parts ) Author : Shawne Wang Category : VA Rating : G should be fine Spoilers : Memento Mori Summary : Essentially Scully & Mulder reflecting on the importance of each other's smiles to their lives. Disclaimers : Obviously not mine, but Chris Carter's. Feedback : Yes. Definitely. All to moi, please!! Archive : Anywhere, just make sure I know first. Please send all feedback to shawne@cyberway.com.sg and not to the sweet person who is posting this on my behalf. It will be lovingly read and answered! Flames are OK too! :) From: vic ho Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW : I Want To See Her Smile ( 1 / 2 ) Scully hardly smiles at all. I have known her for years. But I can probably count the number of times I've seen her smile - really smile - on the fingers of my hands. There has to be something wrong with the math of that. She is the strongest and wisest person I know. When I look into her eyes, I can see the past. And I can see my future. I don't know what will happen in the days to come, but I do know that we will go through it together. I have watched those eyes constantly since we first met, have admired the way they change colour under different lights. Sometimes the palest shade of blue, at other times a deep and misty green. Scully's eyes are the windows to her soul. I know it's a clich. But for Scully, it's true. When she narrows her eyes at me in skepticism or anger, I know she is unhappy, and every individual part of me is yelling out, warning against annoying her. When her eyes lose themselves in tears, I feel as if my heart were drowning in acid. When she closes her eyes to sleep, I can sense the wounds inside me closing up all the more. I can read her every thought as long as I can look into those eyes. And yet I have almost never seen them smile at me. When she is angry, her eyes widen and blaze with a fire I never knew existed. Countless examples. When she cries, her life seems to be floundering in the salty water. Like when she had her cancer, and when I noticed that, for the first time, her eyes did not light up when she saw me. When she sleeps, she is at peace and so am I. If I could watch her go to sleep every night, I think I could afford to let myself dream. Scully has forgotten how to smile. Since she met me, she controls herself all the better, and seldom surrenders to the emotional outbursts which I imagine most women are prone to. But I could always read her eyes. At first, they used to dance with merriment even if she would not allow a laugh to escape her lips. Scully could never control her eyes. That's why I love them so much. Her eyes tell me what her mouth will not say. Then they had gradually stopped laughing. Her eyes had become sad, filled with pain. The memories I found there, the past I wanted to experience, were wrenching reminders of the life Scully had lost through finding me. Sometimes, Scully seems to know that I am watching her through her eyes; at other times she seems oblivious. But when I watch, I can see her father- her sister, Melissa- her daughter, Emily. And the Scully she used to know. Her body is conditioned to oblige with societal conventions. So even when she smiles, she doesn't necessarily mean it. She isn't necessarily happy. I can identify the different forms her mouth can take. There's the smirk, an indication of her disbelief or superiority. She usually uses it when she is at odds with me. It's not much, but I have come to treasure every thing Scully does. A smirk is no exception. There's also the half-smile, when she is resigned to a fate she wishes she could, but is always unable to, control. It is Scully at her most disappointed, and causes me more pain than I ever thought possible. Most importantly, Scully's smiles never reach her eyes anymore. They are few and far between, and when they do conquer her facial features, they still cannot control those eyes of hers. Nothing can do that. Even when the corners of her mouth are turned up, even when she smiles with her teeth showing- the only thing I see is the deep sadness of her eyes, the sadness that is now a part of her life. A part of her. This isn't something I can explain to her. Scully would argue with me, as she always does. She would insist that she is happy, that she still smiles enough for the both of us. I know she is lying to herself, trying to believe that she is happy. I lie to myself too, assuring myself that this is the life Scully has chosen to lead, that it is the life she wants to lead. Perhaps she does want this life, this quest with me. But it's not one that makes her happy. We don't always want what's best for us. She wants to be with me. I know exactly what I want. I want her to be with me too. But I want her to be happy when she is with me, doing something that she really wants to do. I want her to enjoy her life, no matter how difficult that might seem. I want her to smile. Her world is different from mine. We share the physical world, the realm of touch and sense. But in a way, Scully's eyes show me a place I will never understand. A place where her pain is nothing compared to the love she has for others. A place where she is willing to be sad to make others happy. She is the strongest person I know. The smiles she flashes have a magic all of their own. They captivate me, they give me strength, they make me realise that life is worth living- they give me faith. And that's why Scully's smiles are the most beautiful ones I have ever seen, and will ever see. They're not absolutely necessary, of course. I've had to do without them often enough. Most of the time, just the feeling that she is standing next to me is enough to get me through the worst. Am I being selfish when I say that they're an added bonus? Scully allows me to live. Her smiles, especially those which reach her eyes, give me the reason to keep living. I don't want them just for myself, though. I want Scully to smile not because she has found me alive after I've been presumed dead, not because she is recalling the brief time she had with Emily, not because she has stopped hurting - but because of herself. I want Scully to smile for herself. To be happy about herself. There's no necessity to even dream about making Scully laugh. That's something which is practically unattainable right now. It's hard enough hoping for a smile, a real genuine one. As long as her eyes dance in the way I knew they must have once, as long as they shine with the unchallenged conviction she used to have, I will know she is smiling. It is a vain thing to hope for. But a worthy one. Scully should smile more. She doesn't know the things she does to me when she smiles. She doesn't know the number of times she has saved me from giving up, with just a touch or a sympathetic word. I can survive without her being happy, since all I really need to be happy is her. But she can't. No matter how resilient she is, she needs happiness to keep on living. I want to see her happy. I want to see her eyes fill with tears, not the kind that cut me to the bone, but those of joy. I want to see her smile. - end part 1 / 2 From: vic ho Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW : I Want To See Him Smile ( 2 / 2 ) Mulder gives me the strength I crave. I would be hopelessly weak without him. After these few years by his side, I simply cannot imagine a world without him- or a life somewhere else, with someone else. He thinks I am strong on my own. I know he does. That's what most people think, that I am independent and self-assured to the extent that I am my own power. They are all wrong. I have come close to breaking, so many times that I no longer care to keep track. Without him with me, without his faith in me bolstering my faith in the world around me, I would not be able to make it. I love to watch him smile. When he does, I smile to myself too, even if I don't show it outwardly. His expressions are usually telling; they reveal his emotions at any time. He has never been able to hold himself entirely in check. His passion and his energy keep him from staying still, his faith keeps him from suffocating in a world unreceptive to his beliefs and ideals. When he smiles, his conviction is renewed, and my life is restored. His energy is what keeps me moving, his life what gives me life. All I need is the reassurance of a smile, and I can walk the rest of the way alone. When I had cancer, he held me in his arms; he smiled down at me, a bittersweet smile of regret and guilt; he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. The warmth of his body around me kept me from shivering with the cold, the smile made me realise I was not alone, the kiss convinced me to carry on living. Without him, I would have succumbed long ago. Whether the smile is a sad one or a happy one, I still treasure it for as long as I can, using it as a well in which to keep my strength. When this well is drained, I search and search for another one, in hopes that I will not die of thirst. Even when he smirks, I find a new source of water. A new life force. His smiles always reach his eyes, which in turn change in colour to suit his moods. They can turn a deep comforting brown, or a cool encouraging green. When he puts on his glasses, the frames bring out the startling differences all the more. I can see my weaknesses in his eyes. But I can also see my strengths, for Mulder has seen them all, has shared them all with me. His eyes are the vaults of my past, and the keys to my future. I cannot envision a life without him. If I were forced to leave his side, I would lose my purpose again. I know it is wrong to live for other people, that it is bad for me. But that is what I have come to do, and I know I am truly happy doing it. There has been too much sadness in my life for me to ever forget, and I don't wish to forget. But being next to him gives me a sense of peace I have lost ever since I first rebelled. Mulder wants me to quit, to become the kind of doctor I was trained to be. Like my parents had hoped I would be. The doctor I had grown up thinking I would be. But I can no longer leave those eyes, or those smiles. I cannot give up now. His quest has become mine, not because my convictions were shaken, but because they were challenged. I have things to prove, and whether I am proven right, or whether Mulder is the one who is vindicated, I can only do what I want when I am with him. When he is happy, his eyes light up, and he grins almost like a little boy. In spite of all the things he has seen, Mulder is still largely an innocent. There is some level of nave idealism in him that I am fighting with my soul to protect. He has been crushed over and over again, has seen Samantha being torn away from him, has seen his father die, has watched me lying hurt or near death. All those times, he had been helpless to do anything, and that must have killed him inside, over and over again. Yet he never once gave up. For his beliefs, he would do anything. His strength, no matter how little there was left, was always enough for both him and me. I had watched him go through Hell for me before. He would brave anything, go anywhere, do everything. He had managed to find me in Antarctica, and had saved me from a existence no worse than death. And he had remained strong. He had stayed resilient. And he had smiled at me. He would also smile, or rather smirk, when he felt proud about something he had done, when he thought he had discovered yet another conspiracy or X-File. I never took offense, although it would sometimes irritate me. The hope that infused his eyes, the anticipation which invaded his smiles, always made me feel glad to be a part of his life, to be a part of his quest. At times, I would wish fervently that he could be proven right, just so I could see the delight which would inevitably follow on his face. Even if it meant that I had to be proven wrong in the process. When he cries, I can feel my heart tear. Mulder was not made to be sad, or pensive, or motionless. He was meant to be happy, to be active and enthusiastic. He was supposed to care. Anything which slows him down or trips him up immediately cuts me to the bone. It makes him doubt himself, and it forces me to doubt myself. Should he ever surrender to the formidable forces he has prevailed against up till now, it would necessarily be a foregone conclusion for me as well. When he is shaken, I find myself on precarious footing as well. I teeter on the brink of capitulation, and sometimes I have felt myself falling forward. But he always manages to catch me and bring me back to him, to find my soul and return it to my body. He might not know it, but even when he does nothing, when he just sits and stares at the ceiling toying with his pencils, he is protecting me. Keeping me from losing my grip on myself, on the reality that I am forced to live with. Sometimes I think he smiles for my benefit. He pretends that nothing is wrong, and that he is really and truly happy. But how can he be, when he is repeatedly thwarted at every step of the way, when he is forever forced to face up to the fact that he might be nothing more than a pawn in a giant chess game? When he has to realise that his beliefs might all be wrong, and that the world he is familiar with is not one that is authentic? I don't want him to fake his happiness, or cover up his sadness. I want to make Mulder happy, to protect him from the things he is trying so valiantly to keep me safe from. I will need his strength to save the both of us. To save me. We are living in a world that does not care, we are suffering our lives without reward. The only thing that keeps me going is Mulder. God, I want to see him smile. - end part 2 / 2 end "I Want To See You Smile" feedback to Shawne Wang at shawne@cyberway.com.sg