DISCLAIMER: C'mon, by now you guys must know I don't own Mulder and Scully, or any part of The X-Files. If I did, do you think I'd put this disclaimer here? Use your brains, that's what they're there for. Well, Scully belongs to Chris Carter and the people at Fox, and even though Mulder's name is only mentioned once, and Melissa Scully's name is only mentioned once, and they don't appear, I guess I should deny ownership of them, too. Kirsty McCandless is mine, and you greedy money-hungry chimpanzees can't claim her, so there! If you sue me for anything, I'll run away to Canada and leave you a couple pennies in an envelope by my front door. It's all I have, sorry. RATING: Erf... I guess this is R, maybe PG-13. CLASSIFICATION: Vignette, Angst SUMMARY: Kirsty deals with some very disturbing news. Spoilers for "Gethsemane", so if you haven't seen it yet, you might want to put this in a back corner of your hard drive and wait a couple seasons. FEEDBACK: Send comments of any kind to And now, on with the show... Saved By The Bell by Kit Nyman *********** Kirsty McCandless sat quietly at the foot of her bed, staring into space. She was nearly naked, wrapped only in a terry cloth towel, and her jet-black hair lay in drying clumps on her shoulders. Her face was streaked with tears, tears she didn't care to hold back inside. Mulder was dead. Suicide. She had known hours before Scully had found out. Just before he pulled the trigger, Mulder had `pathed to Kirsty and said good-bye. Even now, she could still hear the gunshot echoing through her mind as he died. There was no way she could have known or stopped him. Kirsty was alone in the apartment. Rissa was at a friend's house in Montana, and Kirsty had yet to tell her the horrible news. A tear formed in the corner of one green-grey eye and silently dripped down the side of her face, dangling for a moment on her chin before landing on the cold Sig Sauer lying in her hands. Kirsty took a deep breath, slowly letting it shudder out of her lungs. Her father was dead, and she know who was to blame. The same people responsible for Samantha's disappearance, Scully's cancer, and what Kirsty had become. They had destroyed her life completely, and kept coming back to make the damage worse. Those damned little grey men. They had taken Kirsty while she was still in her birth mother's womb and messed with their genetic structures, making them both practically immortal and able to hear people's voices in their heads. Not a day went by that she didn't curse those bastards for what they had done. Kirsty blinked and looked down at the gun in her lap. It hadn't been hard to buy; a couple mind-pushes, and the street dealer had practically given it to her, fully loaded and all. She would only need to use it once. Raising the gun to her temple, Kirsty gazed out the window. The sun was still high in the sky, the afternoon rays warm on her skin. Kirsty wrapped one finger around the trigger and took a deep breath, her mind completely calm. Part of her was amazed at how composed she felt, while the other wondered how long it would be before someone found her body and called the police. Kirsty hoped the Scully would be okay. Kirsty closed her eyes, tightened her stomach, and slowly counted to ten, increasing pressure on the trigger with every number. "One...two...three..." {good-bye, mum and rissa...} "Six...seven...eight..." {hello, da and aunt mel...} "Nine, te-" A sudden shrill ringing by her left arm interrupted her just before she pulled the trigger, and she sighed in annoyance. Not moving the gun, she reached over and picked up the phone. "Hello..." "Kirsty, hi. It's me, Scully..." "Hello, mum." Kirsty opened her eyes and looked back out the window. "Kirsty, how are you? I'm sure you heard what happened..." Kirsty heard the intense pain in her mother's voice and instantly regretted ever considering taking her own life. "Aye... Mum, I'm so sorry..." "Me too, Kirsty. Me too." Kirsty slowly eased her finger off the trigger and stared at the Sig Sauer incredulously. "Mum, can we meet somewhere? I really need to talk to you..." "Sure, Kirsty. How about Mama Fucelli's, in D.C? They have the best pasta I've ever eaten." "Okay, mum. See you soon." "See you soon, Kirsty." There was a pause, then Sully said softly, "I love you." Kirsty almost stared crying again. "I love you too, mum." "Well, I'd better go... Remember, Mama Fucelli's." "Bye," Kirsty said and hung up. With a sudden flare of anger, she flung the gun at the window. Glass shattered and sprayed everywhere, then knitted back together to form, once again, a pane of glass. The weapon smashed on the street below, and passers-by looked up at the sky in shock. Kirsty threw some clothes on and combed her hair, then `ported herself to Mama Fucelli's. Scully clicked the safety back on her own gun, shoved it into her holster, and grabbed a coat, glad that she had called Kirsty instead of blowing a hole in her head. Scully had no idea what had made her want to talk to her daughter, but definitely was relieved that she had. Picking up her keys, she ran a hand through her hair and stepped out of her apartment, locking the door behind her. Rissa smiled, pleased that she had been able to prevent a double suicide. Patting the warm neck of the strawberry roan mare beneath her, Rissa urged her forward into a sunlit meadow and sang an old Broadway song under her breath. Maybe this Talent business wasn't so bad after all. *********** El termine