From: O0oLAo0O@aol.com Date: Mon, 16 Aug 1999 22:28:42 EDT Subject: NEW: Maybe by Lauren Koehler. Sequel to T.W.W.W. Source: xff Title: Maybe Author: Lauren Koehler Date:8-16-99 Category: V, AAAAAA, long lost R Keywords: Zilch. Content: big strong A Rating: lamely, G Disclaimer: Six months without play can make two charachters very bored. thats why they turn to us! Archiving: YES!!! Feedback: Im just hoping that this one is as well recieved as the last. NOTES: Ok, I bet you are expecting a direct followup, same pattern, as the last. Well, you're in for a doozy. This was very hard for me to write, so I gave it more of a line of events. Both vignettes are set at the same time, right before the hallway scene in FTF. You don't need to have read the other one for this to make sense, but if you read them, and then re-watch the hallway scene, and when scully tries to leave, etc, I think you might see some of the stuff I put in here. Also, this is possibly the shortest thing I have EVER written. However, I think I put enough content into it. I hope so. Anyway, please read and send feedback!! -=-=-=- Maybe -=-=-=- In the few minutes before I walked into Section Chief Blevins' office, I was a self assured green agent, determined to make a difference in whatever field I was placed. But then, I met Mulder, and I was irrevocably changed, never to be the same again. Because I fell in love with him. I fell in love with the jaunty bastard who called me Scully. I fell in love with the flirtatious hunk who touched me gently. I fell in love with the honest man who told me his story. I fell in love with the lost soul into who's life I shone a light I fell in love with the man who didn't treat me like a little girl in the boys' treehouse. But, I don't know where he's gone. I don't know where I've gone. It's hard to know how to love someone when you don't know if you still know what love is. He looks the same, dresses the same, even the same haircut almost. His physical self betrays nothing, a hard mask of self assured agent who throws his weight around like a sumo wrestler. But somewhere inside there, somewhere where I think only I can see, he's changed. The sidelong glances in a cramped rental are gone. The devil-may-care grin and twitchy eyebrows vanished. The fleeting touches have faded. I don't think I've seen one of his sweet smiles since forever ago. Maybe our phone tag on the roof in Dallas could be classified as flirting, but the next minute we pretend like there's nothing between us anymore. I miss long talks. Deep talks. We dance around each other now, walking on eggshells. We oursleves are shells, missing parts of us taken by the other. Maybe if it weren't for red-eyed mothmen, I'd be in his arms. Maybe if it weren't for a certain vampy ex-lover I'd be with him now. But maybe doesn't cut it. Maybe can't bring us back to each other. But I've been thriving on nothing but maybes for as long as I can remember. Life without maybes will be better. Mulder and I have changed to much since I first fell in love with him. I more than him. Things have happened to me in the course of my career that have taken me down, torn a shred of my heart right out of my chest. I don't know if I have enough heart left to support myself and Mulder. My light has faded, blurred, still there, perhaps, but no longer able to show the way. The way to love. But I want to love him. My entire consciousness says yes. But my heart says no. I haven't listened to my heart in more than five years, and it's time that emotion got some respect. Life without Mulder will be a life without maybes. I could call him. But I wont. Too impersonal. Our last moment together as Mr. and Mrs. Spooky should be a personal one: to make up for quickly forgotten moments and too many late nights almost picking up the phone. To make up for too many mis-slated innuendos and for too many days without a hand to hold and a heart to touch. To leave him with a memory of me that isn't cold. That doesn't arch an eyebrow at him whenever he tries to soften up. That doesn't lower the icy facade as soon as the moment has passed. To give him a glimpse of Dana. If she's still here. Our last moment shouldn't be shared over a weak cel connection. But if I give him the chance to see Dana, he will fall in love with her. He will try and pull her out. To bring the pure white light back. To put back together the heart that has been torn and only half mended too many times. He will try to heal me with his own pain. I don't need more pain. I'll be Scully. Wham, bam, thank-ya-mam, put the wall back up Scully. Quick, however painful, and gone. Without a trace. I won't worry if maybe he's found me. I won't worry if maybe he's dead. I won't worry if maybe he's back with Diana. But I will worry about the maybe that could have been. Love has always been my maybe. -=-=-=- Well, you've done it!! I know they don't quite match up, but when you consider the actual scene, I think you will see both of their demeanors after these thoughts. Anyway, byebye, and i love yall lots so email me.