From: Susanne Barringer Date: 2 Dec 2002 20:32:49 -0800 Subject: [all-xf] Nothing Important (1/1) by Susanne Barringer Source: atxc TITLE: Nothing Important AUTHOR: Susanne Barringer EMAIL: sbarringer@usa.net ARCHIVE: Anywhere okay with these headers attached. CATEGORY: VA KEYWORDS: Missing scene RATING: G SPOILERS: Nothing Important Happened Today SUMMARY: Missing scene from "Nothing Important Happened Today." Mulder and Scully say goodbye. DISCLAIMER: Characters belong to FOX, 1013, CC, etc. No infringement intended. ********** Nothing Important by Susanne Barringer His hair is still damp when he leaves me. It reminds me of a long time ago - a rainy night in the woods of Bellefleur, Oregon. The suitcases sit, witnesses to this absurd scene. He doesn't say goodbye. He says, "I'll be seeing you." William cries in his sleep from the other room, and he winces. His eyes don't leave mine. They are William's eyes. The kitchen faucet drips. Drip drip, pause, drip - repeated endlessly. He was supposed to fix it for me. William stops crying, settles back to peaceful sleep, presumably. He doesn't move. His hair is damp from the shower, one strand sticking up at the back of the part, refusing to submit to gravity. I wonder who will cut his hair for him, as if it matters. I want to reach out and tame it, tame him. The impossible dream. That it is impossible is no surprise to me. His arms reach out, but I do not step into them. This is hard. Although there is every good reason for him to leave, at the same time there is none at all. The suitcases tap their feet impatiently in time with the ticking of the mantle clock, in time with William's short breathing that I imagine I can hear through the wall separating him from us, us from each other. "Scully." It's all apology and "please understand" and promises of return, of togetherness, of love. He doesn't have to say anymore than that one word. I understand. I will never understand. The cab honks again, time ticks, suitcases beckon. The faucet drips. I hear the trunk of a car slam shut. Another person leaving? Another goodbye? Do they all feel like this one? He still won't say goodbye, just steps forward with those outstretched arms again. This time they make contact, resting on my waist. "We're okay?" His voice seems far away already. How can that be? He has been farther away than this. I reach up and stroke over his wet hair, pushing the mutinous strand down into place. His hair is cool between my fingers just before he steps away into the watery blur of the room. "Wait for me." What else would I do? I think I hear the door shut, but I am too busy scrutinizing the winding crack in the wall to know for sure. When I do turn to look, the suitcases are gone, the door is closed, the faucet still drips. And I will never feel whole again. END _________ In case you're wondering, I'm not sure I'm back exactly, but I found this story, almost finished, on a scrap of paper at the bottom of my old bookbag. Maybe it's a sign... Feedback welcome: sbarringer@usa.net All my (now old) fic can be found at www.geocities.com/s_barringer