From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 7 Sep 2004 21:45:46 -0000
Subject: NEW:  The Perfect Life (1/1) by Polly
Source: direct

Reply To: polly122456@yahoo.com


Title: The Perfect Life
Author: Polly - polly122456@yahoo.com
Classification:  310 Words, Scully POV, MSR, Post 
Episode
Rating:  PG-13
Spoilers:  Chimera
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" and its characters belong 
to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and FOX.  No 
copyright infringement is intended
Archive:  If you want it, it's yours
Feedback:  Always welcome and greatly appreciated
Summary: Finding the perfect life

*   *   *   *   *   *

I hear the front door close, keys jangle as they're 
tossed on the table. He's home. I breathe a sigh of 
relief and wait. I don't need to call out. He'll find 
me; he's a trained investigator.

Speak of the devil.  Rumpled suit. Heavy stubble.  He 
looks tired.

"Hey," he says, lightly touching my shoulder. "Still 
washing off the seamy underbelly?"

"Four showers, three baths since I left that 
stakeout," I reply. "I almost feel clean."

"Clean," he whispers. "I wish I felt that way."

I scoot forward in the tub and beckon to him. "Come 
on in, the water's fine."

His mouth curves into a reluctant smile. "Better not.  
I haven't had much luck with bathtubs lately."

"When you fall off a bike, you get right back on," I 
counter. "Same rule applies to bathtubs."

He chuckles softly and hesitates, but soon sheds his 
clothing and eases his bruised and battered body into 
the tub. His arms envelop me, clinging to me as a 
drowning man might a life preserver. He rests his 
chin on my shoulder and the words come tumbling out, 
the abridged version of his Vermont X-File; the 
housewife whose obsession with the "perfect life" 
literally created a monster.

His purging complete, he pulls me into a tighter 
embrace; cleansed on the inside, satisfied to let hot 
water and bath oils take care of the rest.

I should tell Mulder that every little girl dreams of 
the fairy tale version of the "perfect life": adoring 
husband, comfortable home, beautiful children. I had 
a dream like that too, once upon a time. But Ellen 
Adderly never realized that you rarely get the neatly 
packaged fairy tale; something as fickle as 
perfection is in the eye of the beholder.

I'll tell him later. Right now, until the water 
cools, I'm content in my lover's arms. Peaceful. 
Clean. Perfect.

The End

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *