From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 14 Feb 2002 08:32:58 -0000
Subject: Ungifted - Valentine\'s Day TXF/LGM by Auburnished
Source: direct

Reply To: red@auburnished.com


Title: Ungifted - Valentine's Day 
Author: auburnished
Rating: R (adult situations)
Category: Reyes, DRR, MelMon, Romance, MSR, Angst
Keywords: Reyes, Scully/Reyes friendship, MSR, DRR, MelMon 
(Reyes/Frohike relationship) 
Feedback: reyesfan@auburnished.com
Disclaimer: These are CC's children
Spoilers: Already Aired S9
Archives: yes to Ephemeral/Gossamer, OPENrEYES, XFMU, SWLD, 
ReyesRomances. Others please email me with  the URL so 
that I can link back to you.
Summary: Reyes, Doggett, Scully, Mulder, Frohike, Byers, Langly 
and Will share a Valentine's Day full of angst.

Completed February 14, 2002


*I try to keep an open mind*


Ungifted
by auburnished
Inspired by The X-Files Oasis Valentine's Day Challenge


V-XO
***BE MINE***

-dedicated to Scifinerdgrl-

Valentine's Day 2002
7:13AM

Reyes balled up her terry socks and stuffed them into her 
running shoes. After checking in at the basement office, 
she would hurl her body toward the horizon and release this 
frustration. 

The card she could not resist slapping down on the counter 
at the pharmacy had jinxed her chances at happiness, she 
mused in superstitious angst. 

"Your prescription will take a few moments. We have some 
new Valentine's Day cards in stock," Janie had teased, 
winking at Reyes. 

Politeness had propelled Reyes to the slanting shelf of 
self-deprecation, as she pretended to select the perfect 
card for her nonexistent sweetheart. Against an envelope 
that was a little too red, she had discovered a greeting 
from her favorite animal charity, featuring a cow-eyed 
mutt and his demure kitten companion. 

With a defeated sigh, she had shuffled the card into the 
envelope and presented it to Janie. After all, good causes 
defined Reyes' life. 

"Aw!" The humiliated agent had heard Janie's predictable 
guttural praise before it left her lips. Just precious, 
Reyes had grumbled inwardly, I will add it to my stockpile 
of ungifted baubles in my underwear drawer. 

Reyes wished she lived with a cat that she could give the 
private spoils, which included a weighty amethyst 
heartstone acquired on sale at the Barley Bin for "just 
$19.49". She would happily unload the sappy kitten and 
puppy Valentine recently tucked among a rainbow of 
Victoria's Secret camisoles, as well. 

Three days after returning from Cairo and two nights after 
her second dinner with Frohike--six months before the 
current fated holiday--she had doomed her chances of 
receiving an encore box of Godiva chocolates from her 
favorite Gnome Gunman. 

Her spurning of A.D. Follmer's amorous advances and his 
subsequent retaliation through an investigation of the 
warehouse had shaken the budding relationship between 
G-woman and Gunman. Without Reyes' knowledge, Follmer had 
orchestrated a raid that landed The Boys in a local 
station house answering questions the interrogating 
officers only marginally comprehended. 

Once officially detained on various charges, Frohike had 
not dialed Reyes' cell phone, which he had lovingly hacked 
only days before; he had called Scully. At Scully's request, 
Doggett had posted bail, then further eroded Frohike's 
confidence in Reyes by threatening in typical fatherly 
fashion that it would "look pretty bad for Agent Reyes to 
get caught up in any of this hacker crap." 

However, Reyes alone had inflicted the worst damage.
 
V-XO
***LOOK GOOD***

7:42AM

With little concern for her appearance, Reyes panted along 
a bike trail near the Hoover Building. Dark fingers of her 
hair whipped about her face as a frigid breeze reddened 
her nose. 

The jarring rhythm of her feet against the unyielding asphalt 
pounded away muddled thoughts of loneliness and relational 
failure. In the discomfort of her exertion, she lapsed into 
memories of physical pleasure. 

The harsh wind fell away as his warm breath brushed her face, 
joined by candent whispers grinding like gravel underfoot. The 
tendrils of her hair tamed at his smoothing touch, her face 
flushed at his sensual motion. 

What death had sought to claim exploded in revelation. After 
suffering a paranormal split that wrenched the partners from 
each other, Doggett and Reyes had thundered together again to 
form an unstoppable coagency. 

In exigency, they had abandoned the restraint previously 
practiced and engaged in clandestine nuzzling beyond the 
basement office door. Still regretting lost days and nights 
with Mulder misused earnestly chasing spooks, Scully had 
detected the new agents' shifting partnership and encouraged 
Reyes to pursue her heart. 

If only Reyes, again confused by the needs of others, could 
have read her own heart, she would have gladly granted it 
lead. 

***

Late Summer 2001

"Man, Frohike, I knew this was going to happen." Langly 
planted a consoling hand on the short Gunman's shoulder. 
"It's those Spock ears of his. Women dig them." 

Frohike, the creases in his forehead deepening, felt too 
despondent to bother telling Langly to shut up. 

***

8:10AM

After half an hour of mobile meditation, Reyes gripped her 
bottle of Clari-Tea and rinsed the phantom taste of Doggett 
from her mind. She shed the damp socks and substantial 
crosstrainers and hurled them into the back seat of her 
sedan.

She would see Melvin Frohike. Tonight. 

V-XO
***CALL ME***

8:13AM

On her way back to the office, she placed the call, leaving a 
message with Byers, who could not have sounded more depressed. 
Reyes regretted the way Valentine's Day served to re-injure 
the broken-hearted. She resolved to mend the hearts she could 
tonight. And leave the rest to cupid's arrow.

***

8:42AM

When Frohike returned the call at the basement office, 
Doggett answered. Frohike attempted to veil his obvious 
ecstasy with professional detachment. Doggett clenched his 
jaw.

As Reyes received the phone sheepishly and twisted the 
cord around her finger, bemoaning the lack of privacy, 
Doggett knew what he had suspected was true: Reyes was 
still toying with the notion of dating the shortest, 
thickest and oldest Lone Gunman. Poppa Smurf, for crying 
out loud.

Doggett buried his head in a file, mentally rehearsing 
ways to begin his inquisition.

***

8:51AM

"So you're indicting me for having a personal life?" Reyes 
roared at Doggett. Unlike the spiritual poseurs, Reyes 
never feigned enlightenment when anger swelled in her belly. 
She favored honesty, even if it meant wielding a righteous 
temper once and again.

"Nah, you know that--come on, Mon," Doggett pleaded, 
looking down.

Reyes knew they weren't arguing about whom she was seeing, 
but whom she was not. Her voice became lower and quieter, as 
she honed her emotion. "The X-Files is for loners, right? I 
get that. A few sad souls beating their bodies against the 
bureau, getting slapped back for approaching the truth, 
losing their chances at family, at intimacy. I would rather 
beat myself against a human being, someone I can touch, who 
allows himself to feel the truth, not just seek it."

"I can't argue with that." Doggett sighed deeply and 
shrugged. "Monica," Doggett's voice caught on her name, 
as if suffering its release. "I gave myself to a family 
once. I could do it again, maybe. I'm good at 
compartmentalizing my life--I'm a good cop. But this--all of 
this," he waved his hand at the file cabinets looming in the 
corner of the cramped basement office. "It's not something I 
know how to leave when I punch out."

"Right, you know how to go to the pub, go to bed, forget." 
Reyes' brow creased with compassion. "But I can live and love 
and work in the same place." 

"I don't want just a fragment of someone," Reyes explained, 
"I want a whole person. I want a lover who understands my 
day was so terrifying that I need his hands pressing into my 
skin to remind me that life can be safe. And who will kiss 
the sweat of a tedious night in this dingy little cave from 
my brow and love me for it."

Doggett's heartbeat quickened with anxiety as Reyes 
elucidated his deepest desires.

Reyes studied Doggett's luminous eyes, drenched in 
conflict. 

Finally, Doggett nodded, "We could have been partners beyond 
these doors. We have been. But somebody had to die first." 

"Welcome to The X-Files, home of crisis bonding." She 
murmured morbidly, hoping Doggett had meant their respective 
deaths, and his son's.

Doggett frowned, "We can get it right. I can try."

"Until I died, until you died, we enjoyed the illusion of 
that possibility. But our unexplained experiences shattered 
those illusions. What we are in each other's arms is lost, 
John. I can't save you. And I don't want you to save me."

"Why can't you let go of the tough gal act, Mon?"

"Because I am tough. I'm not the whimpering wife-y type. I 
can take care of myself. Even so, I do need people. People 
to share my life, not rescue me. As you know, I don't have 
a long blond braid, Sir John," Reyes paused. "And it really 
hurt to watch you gallop from my tower to Dana's--"

"Wait a minute," Doggett uncrossed his arms and held up 
his hands. "Let's just leave Agent Scully outta this."  
Reyes glanced away, resigned to his undying protective 
gestures toward the first point of the triangle. 

"Mon, I'll admit I'm a sucker for a damsel in distress. 
Hell, I've changed more fair maidens' flats in the Texas 
heat... 'Used to drive Linda crazy with my chivalry. But 
that's all it is. Mulder's left that poor woman alone. I 
couldn't do that. I guess I'd wind up dead protecting her 
and William, if I was... Anyway, I like that you're a tough 
cookie. And I know you have a vulnerable side."

"I'll show you mine if you'll show me yours," Reyes snapped.

"Hey, you've seen me vulnerable plenty of times-"

"Only when you couldn't help it. When you weren't coping 
well enough to hide behind that weathered cowboy smile. 
When you had no one else to trust. You said it yourself, 
'when somebody died.' It seems that when you're in trouble, 
you call me. But when everything's good, you're too good to 
be true." Reyes bit her lip. She'd kept firing, as Mulder 
would say, and finally hit something.

Doggett stood stunned, absorbing the accusation. "I've hurt 
you," Doggett touched Reyes' arm at the realization. She 
bristled, but allowed his fingers to stroke her.

"Yes, John, but I don't want your comfort," she whispered, 
grieving that her words would hurt him. 

"I'm sorry--"

"--I have a place to lay my troubles." She lifted her eyes 
to his, fixing him in an unintentional bedroom gaze. "Which 
brings us back to the reason we're discussing this at all." 

Frohike. Doggett knew Reyes' preferences included strange 
leanings, but he still could not fathom it.

"Let's just leave it at watching each other's backs, OK?" 
Reyes coaxed understanding from her partner.

Your turn first, she thought, as she pivoted away from him 
to complete a field report.

***

8:59AM

Doggett's head throbbed as he watched his partner's back. 
Fingering the tiny box in his pocket, he cursed his 
sentimentality. Happy Friggin' Valentine's Day.

***

5:20PM

"Angst junkies!" Reyes called after Scully and Doggett from 
behind the wheel of her government issue sedan, which seemed 
to be idling high. 

Those two will comfort each other more than they will 
comfort poor, fatherless William. 

"I'm worried about William." Scully had intimated to 
Doggett as they prepared to leave the office. Although 
Valentine's Day drives human beings to seek comfort wherever 
they can, projecting loneliness onto her son was unbalanced 
even for "physically shaking" Scully. How could William miss 
a father he did not know? He probably thought of "Uncle 
John" as his daddy, anyway. 

Reyes pushed aside the creeping guilt and continued to 
focus on purging her vile thoughts. She prepared to scream 
again, this time to the croonings of The Style Council's 
"Betrayal" on CD, "To hell with you beautiful people and 
your twisted realities!" To save time, she emitted a 
sepulchral "Uuurrrrh!" which she abbreviated as Scully turned 
toward Reyes' car. 

Reyes pretended to sneeze, convulsing in an exagerated 
pantomime before stealing a glance in the rearview mirror 
to catch Scully slip into the passenger's side of Doggett's 
vehicle. 

The solitary agent winced. Although she had abandoned her own 
interlude with Doggett, Reyes shuddered at the pain of ending 
the game. "Follow your heart," Reyes mocked Scully's advice, 
feeling betrayed. 

"Kung Fu," Reyes instructed her Nokia, while pressing the 
keypad just in case the imaginary voice activation chip did 
not work. 

"Mel? Can we make our soiree about an hour earlier than 
planned, and at the warehouse?" 

"Affirmative!" Reyes would arrive within minutes, severely 
decreasing his nervous tinkering time; he had showered and 
shaved directly following their earlier conversation, and 
now flushed with the lifeblood of romantic hope. "I'll just 
throw a dishtowel over the Miss Pittsburgh Piston calendar, 
order some spicy take-out, and we're good to go." 

"If Miss Pittsburgh's brought her heart-shaped bikini and 
fiery red piston, I say let her join the party." Reyes 
punched off her cell phone, threw the car into reverse, and 
lurched out of her parking slot with force. She had plans 
for her height-challenged associate that would leave Miss 
Pittsburgh begging for that dishtowel. 

V-X
***TRES CHIC*** 

7:08PM

Reyes paused before the eerie light of the dusky warehouse 
to organize her bounty. Her ungifted baubles would come in 
handy tonight. 

She had packaged herself in new lingerie, just as her 
mother had taught her. "Part of being a woman is remembering 
to feel lacy and delicate, even beneath your dusty work 
clothes," she had chortled, while peeling away a sweaty tank 
top with bedraggled bows from her young daughter's darkly-
tanned back. The advice had annoyed Monica, who favored 
mudpuppies over frills. 

Now she bore her mother's wisdom with pride, understanding 
that secreting what is finest characterizes the power of 
womanhood. 

Her string bag blooming with recycled, beet-dyed tissue 
paper, Reyes sauntered to the door. Full of sexual prowess, 
and intoxicated by her signature citrus scent, she pressed 
her lips together to refresh her vanilla lip balm and 
waited. As she kicked one boot against a misplaced clod 
of concrete, and swung her bag behind her, Byers opened 
the door. His eyes sparkled, as he bowed aside, glancing 
at her admiringly. 

"Hey, gorgeous," Reyes slipped a hand behind his back in a 
sideways hug. 

"Um, I believe that's my line," Byers blushed. "You look 
amazing, if you don't mind my saying so." 

"Thank you," Reyes purred, handing him a card. The puppy 
and kitten pair had found a home after all. 

"You didn't have to--" Byers sighed, as Reyes touched his 
arm tenderly. 

"Happy Valentine's Day," she cooed with compassion. 

"And to you," Byers nodded graciously, fingering the red 
envelope. 

Reyes turned to find Frohike agape. He almost uttered  
"Maitleya" aloud. The svelt agent's proportions may be 
slightly more realistic, but the impression was pure 
fantasy. 

Each time he saw Reyes, he could not imagine why he did 
not flop to the floor to drool at her feet, and stalk her 
like a maniac when they were apart. Somehow, he managed a 
greeting, which evoked affection from Reyes. She grasped 
his hands and held his familiar gaze in her own for a 
moment. 

"Hey, I've missed you, Mel." 

Frohike's eyes wandered to her shoulders, where her 
glossy hair drifted against her shiny black jacket. 
"May I take your coat?" He caressed each vowel 
carefully in an attempt to seem relaxed. 

"I don't know, what do you intend to do with it?" 
Reyes teased. 

Frohike blinked, still mesmerized. 

What are we going to do with you, thought Reyes, 
charmed by his adoration. 

It's what I am going to do to you that you need to 
worry about, Frohike thought with a smirk, then 
recovered, shaking his head at his dark inner 
commentary. 

As Reyes slipped out of her jacket, Frohike caught 
it on the way down and draped it over his arm. Reyes 
strutted to the workstation, as both Byers and Frohike 
wished the distance were farther. They followed her, 
tracing her painfully exquisite and lithe motion, and 
exchanging incredulous glances, as Frohike mouthed, 
"hot!" 

V-X
***SWEET TALK***

7:13PM

Looking at women worked for some men. They could watch 
a woman--or listen to her sultry voice--and receive 
deep satisfaction. 

Frohike craved touching, experiencing the moist breath 
of hard-won secrets against his sensitive ear, luxuriating 
in the velvet of delicate wrists brushing his lips. 

He had yearned to explore this achingly beautiful woman 
again, to animate her laughter with his eccentric wit, to 
spill his own secrets as she warmed the taught skin over 
his heart with her supple cheek. 

Patience had overpowered any vain notion of a substitute. 
Mulder's jokes about bequeathing Frohike his video 
collection had once served as a nod to Frohike's need for 
a real woman. Lately, the Gunman's desire for the new agent 
had trumped any fantasy. So, he had waited. 

After a few moments in the presence of her dark elegance, 
he always would begin to get why he felt so at home with 
her. Reyes was real: open about her flaws, attentive, 
empathetic, and skilled at connecting. 

Tonight, in her impassioned way, she was taking care of 
business before pleasure. Petitioning him from her 
maelstrom of grace, Reyes was apologizing to Frohike. 

V-X
***BE TRUE*** 

-dedicated to Sita-

*** 

7:26PM

The workstation hummed with energy, stripping electrons 
from the nearby humans in the dry winter air of the 
cavernous warehouse. Reyes perched at Frohike's desk, her 
back to his monitor, as he reclined in a captain's chair, 
his legs crossed under his belly. 

My own personal Buddha, Reyes mused to herself, smiling. 
She thought of the libidinous guru on the mountain in 
Robbin's _Even Cowgirls Get the Blues_. 

The relaxed agent had paused in her speech and allowed 
herself to become completely distracted. "I'm sorry, where 
was I?" she lilted with a sensual grin. 

"About right here," Frohike indicated his gut and smirked. 

Reyes burst into hearty laughter. "A wonderful place for 
meditation." 

"I'm--I need to eat with you more often," Frohike 
confessed, patting his paunch. "Which reminds me, Dada 
Delivery should be arriving about--" He glanced at 
Langly's monitor to check the time. "--now." 

"I appreciate you listening to me so patiently, Mel. I 
have tried to be forthright." Reyes shifted toward 
Frohike, consciously delaying her natural habit of 
touching him as she spoke. She did not wish to influence 
his decision, even with innocent fondling. 

"I trust you, Monica. I get how disorienting this past 
few months must have been for you. Doggett calls you in, 
then Follmer shows up--lots of unfinished business. And 
the thing with Agent Doggett, your ties to him revolve 
around life and death experiences. That's heavy stuff." 

"You forgive my impetus, then?" Reyes extended her hand, 
which Frohike took in his own, palm open to hers in 
generous vulnerability. 

"Even if you rip my heart out, the pleasure's all mine." 
Frohike assured her, raising her hand to his lips without 
losing her gaze. After a moment, he released her hand, 
uncrossed his legs, and slipped his feet into his thongs 
on the cold floor in front of him. 

"You're a groovy guy, Mel." Reyes exhaled an endearing 
sigh and shook her head. She was relieved to discover even 
more compassion and character than she expected in this 
unlikely sweetheart. Finally, someone to challenge her to 
be herself. She sensed ambient safety in the electronic 
vibrations around them. 

Frohike answered her appraisal by rising with a self-
conscious grimace. "Keep up that groaning and I'll take 
you running with me," Reyes warned with a wink. 

"'Good to know," the aging Gunman knit his brow warily. 

As Reyes swiveled toward the monitor and sprang from her 
chair, her elbow bumped Frohike's keyboard. The 
screensaver disappeared, exposing a live cam feed. 

Her jaw dropped as she recognized Doggett and Scully. 
She gasped, "What the--?" 

V-XO
***WHAT'S UP?*** 

7:32PM

Byers re-appeared from his ambiguous *downtime* to 
investigate what he had already surmised: Reyes had 
discovered the covert monitoring of Scully's apartment. 

"What *is* this?" Reyes demanded, her pulse racing at the 
sight of Doggett and Scully hovering over William's 
bassinet. "Does Scully know--?" 

"Oh, yes, of course--she asked us to set it up in Will's 
room. 24/7 monitoring, except when she has guests. Well, 
certain guests," Byers gushed. 

"I guess this is a good idea, after that nasty episode 
with the NSA and the suspicious couple who tried to abduct 
Will." Reyes peered at the screen. 

She felt as if she had sustained a blow to her stomach. 
She staved off the adrenaline threatening to race through 
her body and throw her brain waves into fight or flight 
mode. Nothing had prepared her to see the two of them 
together in Scully's apartment, looking so... parental. 

Frohike considered Reyes, who was riveted on each silent 
movement of the monitored agents, as a cat coiled to 
pounce. Was her break from Doggett's magnetism too fresh 
to sustain this revelation? 

"'Got sound?" Reyes asked flatly. 

"Um, yeah, but we don't normally listen when Scully has, 
well, when Doggett's, um," Byers stammered. 

"What Byers is trying to say is that we feel more than a 
little strange about this arrangement, and we try to 
diminish the intrinsic invasiveness of it by allowing 
privacy when a trusted visitor--" 

"Turn it up, Frohike." Reyes ordered bluntly, attempting 
to cover the plaintive note in her tone that he detected 
easily. 

"I don't think this one will make the cut--" Byers 
murmured to Frohike. 

"The cut?" Reyes barked, offended by his aside. 

Frohike's face fell as Reyes began searching for the 
volume control. He tapped a few keys and white noise 
hissed from the speakers. "We burn DVD's for Mulder, 
the best of--William's a real ham." 

"You edit them yourself?" Reyes' eyes darkened, as she 
remained immersed in intense study of the silent onscreen 
couple. 

Frohike nodded, affirming reluctantly, "I edit the films, 
at Scully's request." 

At last, Reyes remembered to breathe. What a riddle. She 
felt jealous of Doggett's interaction with Scully, and now 
she was questioning the apparent hours Frohike spent as 
voyeur, working with intimate footage of the red-haired 
agent. And all the time Scully was desperately attempting 
to reach out to Mulder, her only remaining interest, aside 
from William. 

Reyes decided to renew her loyalty to her estranged friend. 
They had shared many private talks in the beginning, 
before Mulder left and Scully withdrew from everyone. 

Reyes had allowed her misplaced possessiveness to overshadow 
her empathy for the bereaved woman. She had avoided being 
there for Scully, who had turned to Doggett for comfort. 
Reyes realized how she had unwittingly contributed to 
Doggett considering a relationship that had no hope of 
consummation. 

"Huhn, are those empty bags of sunflower seeds in her 
wastebasket?" Reyes' heart sank. 

"Yeah, Agent Scully eats them because she's breastfeeding. 
Good for the baby. Mulder would approve." Byers declared. 

"The sunflower seeds pass through her milk, that's true. 
But I think the reason she's eating them has more to do 
with arranging Will's preferences. She's ensuring Mulder's 
habit is passed on to his son." Reyes sensed sadly. "That's 
just an impression, of course." 

Reyes' eyes left the monitor to search Frohike's face. 
His worried countenance moved her. Now it was so clear 
to Reyes, as it had been to the others for months, that 
Scully was ripe for a breakdown. 

Doggett's rugged whisper broke the silence, "We can fix 
all this right now, you know. You just look into that 
camera and tell Mulder to come home." 

"No, John, don't," Reyes gasped at his 13-inch image on 
the screen. 

The warehouse trio watched as Scully's shoulders began 
to shake. 

V-XO
***DIVA*** 

7:37PM

The final moment portrayed an enraged Scully, her eyes 
brimming with angry tears, ripping apart the camera hidden 
in a mother goose kinetic mobile in the corner of the 
nursery. The "goose cam", as they called it, oscillated 
wildly before disintegrating to static. 

"Blast!" Byers exclaimed, rubbing his face with his hands 
in frustration. 

Frohike and Reyes stared at the hissing monitor. With one 
finger, Frohike shut off the feed. Scully's tortured 
expression continued to play in their minds, as they turned 
to one another. 

A rapid knock at the door interrupted their helpless 
contemplation. The short Gunman inhaled and flip-flopped 
in his thongs to the door. 

"Passcode," he yelled through the steel panels. 

"Speedy friggin' delivery, man," Langly bellowed back, 
"Forgot my--just let me in!" 

*** 

7:42PM

The group congregated in a solemn circle and briefed 
Langly on Scully's tirade. 

"Poor Scully," Langly's shoulders sagged. "Maybe this'll 
help. From locker 1013." The Boys exchanged glances, as he 
produced a palm-sized box marked "Queequeg" in familiar 
handwriting. 

*** 

8:31PM

At Scully's apartment, a weary and troubled Doggett 
greeted Reyes and Frohike, admitting them wordlessly. 

They found Scully reclining on the sofa beneath a quilt, 
which concealed nursing Will. "Sit down, please," Scully 
invited the couple near with a hoarse whisper. 

From Scully's calm and contrite demeanor, Reyes intuited 
that the new mother had followed through with her 
breakdown after disconnecting the camera. Judging from 
her voice, it had included primal shrieking. 

Although disturbing to witness, such an outburst 
probably purged crippling poisons from Scully's body 
and spirit. Reyes was grateful Doggett had been 
available to offer a strong shoulder. 

Jagged particles hung in the air, diffuse energies 
released in the 'shouting ceremony', as Reyes' therapist 
once named it. She would offer a smudging to neutralize 
those energies, Reyes decided. 

"How are you feeling?" She deliberately placed her hand 
on Scully's arm, sending loving warmth through her 
fingertips. 

"I'm fi--not so great, actually." Now this is progress! 
Reyes brightened. Scully would be "fine" someday. She 
was sure of that now. 

Reyes tucked a stray strand of copper hair behind 
Scully's ear and whispered in a singsong fashion, "It's 
OK to act mad when we need something, isn't it, Will?" 
Without releasing his mother's breast, Will turned his 
wide eyes to the first human he had seen at birth, his 
dark-haired "Aunt" Monica. 

Frohike and Doggett shuffled their feet, conscious of 
the maternal beauty before them. They smiled at one 
another briefly, agreeing with a nod that women were 
amazing. 

"We have something for you," Reyes' voice registered 
excitement. 

"For Will?" Scully's eyes crinkled at the corners. 

"A gift from afar." 

As Scully's hand appeared from beneath the quilt and 
received the package, she shifted Will to one side, and 
sat upright. 

"Oh my G_d!" Nervously, she turned the brown paper-wrapped 
box over and over. "I'd-- I'd like to open this--" 
Scully's eyes begged understanding from the assembly. 

"We'll see ourselves out." Reyes smiled, ushering the 
bewildered men toward the door. 

V-XO
***I LOVE YOU*** 

8:42PM

Scully knew overt symbolism turned Mulder's stomach. His 
tangible gifts had proven sparse and simple: a "cool" 
trinket, a beloved doll... embued with meaning by the 
moment of their arrival, and their sentiment. 

So Scully did not expect to find a heart for Valentine's 
Day when she tore away the brown paper--saving a frayed 
square that read "Queequeg"--and opened the silver box. 

But there it lay, in a golden sheen to match her cross, a 
tiny heart inscribed with William's birth date. As Scully 
slipped her thumbnail along the side of the Victorian 
charm, it opened to reveal a black and white image of the 
three of them, taken the day before Mulder's departure. 

With shaking hands, she slipped her chain from around her 
neck and added the locket to the cross. After working the 
clasp her hands knew well, she pressed her fingers against 
the heart at her throat, feeling its solid promise. 

She kissed sleeping Will's moist fingers, as he sighed 
with a tiny snort. He would have another "pretty" to 
explore upon waking. His earliest memories now would include 
a photo of his father and mother holding him, fitted inside 
a heart dangling above his mother's own. 

One could make a solid case for this gift as classic 
symbolism, she mused. Cynicism and zest for originality 
fall away in desperate times. In turn, the past will 
disclose its secrets for survival if we listen. 

V-XO
***TWO HEARTS*** 

9:13PM

Doggett hunkered amidst his familiar den trappings thinking 
of Scully and her Valentine from Mulder. He grunted his 
displeasure, then reached deep into his Dockers, beyond his 
cell phone and breath spray, to retrieve a small box. 

Flipping it onto his leg, then fingering it slowly, and 
finally opening it, he imagined the woman who might have 
accepted his gift. Her eyes would glisten appreciatively, 
full of surprise and gratitude. 

If he had planned the perfect present for Reyes, it would 
include a donation to her favorite charity. Most of her 
jewelry, save a mysterious snake ring she had probably 
acquired in Cairo, he knew she had paid for herself. "I do 
not choose men who gift me with expensive diamonds," she 
had confessed to him over drinks one night, "and that's not 
what I really want, anyway." 

While Monica did not need anything to validate her beauty, 
her wisdom, her ability as an agent, lover, woman... Dana 
Scully needed much more than Mulder could ever give her. 
Holding the trembling new mother tonight had awakened him 
to the true motivation for his jewelry purchase. 

Doggett realized that he had bought the fiery, heart-
shaped ruby earrings--which the sales clerk had called 
"red hots, you know, those cinnamon candies"--for Dana, 
as back up, in case Mulder failed to come through for her. 

But Mulder's gift had found Scully, and at this moment, 
balmy winds of the past were buffeting her tormented soul. 
Whatever was in Mulder's box was not enough, but it was 
rare and precious to Scully, as the keeper of her partner's 
ever-lengthening heartstrings. If they snapped, she would 
be adrift. 

Meanwhile, Doggett remained watchful, helping to protect 
Scully and her child, a task that had defaulted to him. 
Without expectations of gratitude, Doggett had accepted 
the position. Monica was right, he was not free from his 
post at Dana's tower. 

Into the top drawer of the mahogany glove cabinet beside 
his recliner, he tucked the scarlet box, ungifted. 

V-XO
***THAT SMILE*** 

9:33PM 69* 

Reyes explained the features of the Atomic Projection 
Clock and Barometer she had given Langly. "You have 
some gadgets to work with here: a tilting projector, 
crescendo alarm, you know, stuff you can parley into 
something else. Happy MacGuyvering!" 

"Frohike, I am in love with your girlfriend," Langly 
exclaimed. "This must have set you back a hundred bucks, 
Agent Reyes. I'm not worthy!" 

Reyes leaned over to kiss Langly's cheek, causing his 
scarlet curse to climb his face. She grinned with Langly, 
pleased to see his spirits lifted. He seemed especially 
sensitive to others, and the events of the evening had 
lined his face with worry. 

Frohike winked at Reyes. She paired a shrug with an 
enticing sidelong glance. All goddess metaphors apply, 
thought Frohike. From innocent to provocative in less 
than 10 seconds. 

He could recall a few flower children who habitually 
left men swooning in their patchouli wakes, but he had 
not experienced Reyes' level of sincerity. Her caring 
never felt transient. Or falsely altruistic. 

Reyes moved to peck Byers on the left temple, watching 
him slowly blink and inhale her scent. She glimpsed dew-
drenched strawberries in an obsidian bowl in her mind's 
eye as she brushed his brow with her lips. She hoped her 
impression meant that soon he would encounter some 
extraordinary return on his affection. 

"Third time's a charm," she announced, leading Frohike to 
his sleeping quarters with her fingertips. Within her 
magnetism, Frohike's own fingers pulsed with sensitivity. 

V-XO
***KISS ME***

-dedicated to S-

9:21PM

As her boot heels struck the concrete slab, slight 
quivers shimmered along her body, accentuating her 
curves. 

Once in his room, she pressed her hands along the 
back of her neck, releasing the day's tension with her 
kneading fingers, then let it her hair fall in a curtain 
of silken strands. Frohike was close enough to hear her 
dark tresses slap the back of her satin blouse, and feel 
the perfumed air around her stir as she moved. He traced 
each motion, battling an urge to pounce. 

"Mmm," he whined with desire, as she perched on the edge 
of his bed and closed her eyes in anticipation of his touch. 

She should be painted--or devoured, he thought. He removed 
his glasses, crouched behind her on his knees, and slipped his 
hands under her collar. 

His earthy hands stroked her neck, then her shoulders and 
along her upper arms, where he squeezed with a delicious 
pressure that prompted a pleasured sigh from deep within her. 

Frohike leaned his forehead into her hair and inhaled. 
"Monica," he insinuated into the fragrant locks drifting 
in his breath. Reyes answered his barely audible plea by 
leaning her head to one side, exposing the tender flesh of 
her neck. 

His fingers found her ear and stroked it gently, before 
tracing the velvet skin behind it to her collarbone. He slipped 
her blouse from her shoulder and drank in the beauty of her 
smoothness, luminous in the moonbeam seeping through the 
skylight. Reyes leaned into him, resting against his chest. 
His mouth hovered an inch from her neck, and his warm breath 
caused her to shiver. 

He bit his lip, and returned to stroking her shoulders 
rhythmically. He wanted to confess how confused he felt about 
her renewed interest in him, considering her reunion with 
Doggett upon returning from Cairo, and again in early winter; 
but surely, she felt his doubts. 

And she had apologized for her past indecisiveness, asserting 
her desire to know him. For now, he would accept her tenderness 
without true understanding. He was acquainted with the 
unexplained, after all. 

His wet mouth found her neck, and Reyes held her breath to 
relish the ticklish nuzzling of his tongue and lips. His teeth 
nibbled the skin at the base of her neck, sending waves of 
awakening through her body. Vulnerable, with the tiger on her 
throat, tamed and panting, Reyes felt the ache of hot liquor 
pooling in her sacred spot. 

V-XO
***AMA ME*** 

9:42PM

She crossed her arms at her waist and shed her shirt, 
revealing a blood red stretch lace chemise. He caressed 
the complex texture, detecting her feminine curves 
beneath. The neckline plunged to reveal the hollow 
between her breasts and her gorgeous natural shape, 
embraced by the sheer fabric. 

"Hey, Valentine," Reyes cooed in Frohike's ear, turning 
to press her lips into his. The permanent crease between 
his brow deepened as he gently sucked her top lip before 
entering her soft mouth. She hummed in warm aspiration. 

Frohike blinked, pulling back to focus on her incredible 
brown eyes, wide with passion, and cradle her jaw in his 
hot hands. 

"Soulful eyes," she murmured, stroking his eyebrows with 
her thumbs. 

She kissed the tip of his upturned nose, as her hands 
found his belly. Slipping them beneath his vest, she 
peeled it away from his shoulders, then held his gaze as 
she unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, and lovingly 
explored him with the other. 

Frohike's chest tightened with anxiety as he displayed 
his soft underbelly for the first time in many seasons. 
Despite his shape and years, Reyes offered warmth that 
encouraged his natural confidence, and he quickly set 
aside petty fears. 

The dark-haired agent continued to gaze up at him, as 
she curled against his bare chest. She stroked his back 
gently as his tiny hairs lifted to meet her fingertips. 

Her older partner wrapped his arms around her, pulling 
her close, wanting to feel her heartbeat. He stroked 
the toned muscles between her shoulder blades in deep 
circles, as his chest grew warm. The energies passing 
through their hearts brought deep acceptance and trust, 
as their breathing synchronized. 

A tear rolled down Reyes' left cheek. Frohike traced 
it with kisses to its conclusion at her elegant jaw 
line, then continued down her neck to her heart. 

In awe of her attentive lover, she arched her back 
slightly, susurrating his name. She sensed a powerful 
synergy forming in their midst, and lifted Frohike's 
face to hers, imploringly. 

He confirmed the euphoric tremor. "I feel it, too." 

V-XO
***MI AMOR*** 

10:13

As Reyes and Frohike rejoined the other Gunmen, who 
were grazing the Dada leftovers, they noticed furtive 
looks from Langly, and Byers' approving smiles. 

"OK, guys," Reyes grinned slyly, "go ahead and gawk." 

"What?" Langly assumed a defensive posture. 

"It's just that," Byers began, "there's this amazing 
vibe coming off of you." 

"Amazing vibe?" Reyes repeated, bemused, then stole 
a glance at Frohike. 

"Yeah, Frohike's all... chilled out." Langly mumbled 
around a mouth full of rice. 

"I almost forgot--" Frohike, still focused on Reyes, 
wandered off to his quarters again. 

"Any broccoli conchiglie left?" Reyes inquired. 

Byers lowered his eyes, still smiling, and began 
spooning out the pasta. "Here, let me fix you a 
plate." 

Frohike returned with an envelope and handed it to 
Reyes, who smiled graciously as she pulled out a 
certificate. "How wonderful! You made a donation to 
the animal shelter in my name." 

"Actually, it's a receipt of sorts. Agents don't 
usually have pets because of their unpredictable 
schedules, I realize. But if you do choose to adopt 
a little Fluffy or Fido, there will always be someone 
here to care for him when you're away. Otherwise, 
yeah, it's a donation." He explained. 

"Wow, thank you. I'll have to think about this. I 
have been wanting a kitten. My building is pet-
friendly. I guess the only thing keeping me from 
adopting is my job. You'd really cat-sit for me?" 

"Of course we would, anytime," Frohike assured her. 
Byers and Langly agreed, in stereo. 

"You want to visit the shelter with me Saturday?" 
Reyes raised her brow. 

"It's a date." Frohike beamed. 

"Score," Langly congratulated Frohike, who bowed 
gallantly. 

"Now," Reyes began, "while you tank up, I'm going 
to retrieve *your* gift." 

Frohike reached for her hand. "What can you give 
the guy who has everything?" 

"Blech," spat Langly, "Try a cornball meter." 

V-XO
***SOLO TU*** 

10:42PM 

As Reyes poured candy hearts into a substantial DEF CON V ashtray 
from the since-raised Aladdin Hotel and Casino, Langly and Byers 
lingered to keep her company. They reminisced about the good old 
days with Mulder--the handle "Spooky" suited him especially now, 
as his palpable presence continued to personally haunt each member 
of the diverse force that comprised the X-Files. 

Frohike contemplated Reyes' recently penned poem in solitude, 
before the phosphorescent glow of the workstation: 

Dream In Season 
-for Mel- 

I leap through fissures of 
Fantasy, 
The slender specter 
Lover. 
In winter walking, he waits for 
Me 
On lake that ice chimes 
Rupture-- 

The ice, dense white 
Suspended, 
Opaque, safe for faith to 
Tread, 
The skin of dreams 
Unended-- 
As life below flows, 
Undead. 

The clouded mirror 
Splinters, 
Until peering woman 
Sees-- 
Beneath dim starlight 
Overwinters, 
Then fluid of reflection 
Frees. 

-Monica Reyes, Valentine 2002 

*** 

10:59PM 

Frohike approached Reyes, with his glasses and her poem in one hand. 
With the thumb and forefinger of his other, he rubbed his moist 
eyes. 

Byers and Langly scattered. 

"Thank you," he rasped, then cleared his voice, lifting the deckle 
edged paper. "Far out poem. I'm absolutely electrified that you 
wrote this for me." Frohike placed his glasses on the table and 
tucked the poem inside his vest, next to his heart. 

Reyes smiled at the gesture.

This time, Frohike led Reyes toward the soft effulgence of his 
corner of the cave. 

*** 

11:07PM 

While the broken-hearted slept alone that night, Melvin and Monica 
stayed awake sharing their dreams, and candy hearts. As of 
Valentine's Day, they no longer counted themselves among the 
ungifted. 

*** 

[The Currandera's Neice] 

A friend once said that we all draw our own lines. For me, no depth 
seems deathly enough, no loss too great, if the prize is the life 
of a friend. 

But where does my responsibility for the drowning person end? As I 
look back to find a shoreline of friends and the victim pulls me 
under again, I gasp for serenity. 

When I was young, my cousin and best friend taught me that as a 
hue'rfana, an adopted child devoid of her blood, I was to give my 
life to any whim of hers. For years, I did this, hoping fervently 
for her validation in return for my selflessness. 

Although unable to swim, she would plunge into deep waters to force 
me to save her, flail and scream until I rescued her. Her parents 
would rush to coddle their "half-drowned" daughter, leaving me to 
shiver on the dock. Sometimes blaming me for her folly. Through 
this, I became a strong woman and good swimmer, but with an 
attraction to needy people. 

Fortunately, my parents' support buffered these endless inner 
struggles, while an aunt who considered me her natural progeny 
taught me the healing arts. 

I am learning to draw my line a little closer to the shore, and to 
love those on the shoreline who are also good swimmers. 

Blogged 2.14.02 23:42 by Mon 

*** 

>>Cyberplasm-SFTM 14.02.02 23:42 

Perception is reality: 
I grew up on 007, and spent many adolescent afternoons sketching 
blueprints for those cool gadgets. I dreamed of the day I could 
languish at the bar, intoning, "Shaken, not stirred." Meanwhile, 
I learned to Tango. 

Unfortunately in my case, the man inside is reflected poorly by the 
package. Lacking stature, good hair, and a strong chin, I eventually 
rebelled against my own hero and began dressing the part of the 
underground villain. I could not pull off elegantly dangerous, so I 
settled for just dangerous. 

I also began restoring classic cars, which serendipitously made me a 
chick magnet. 

That served my testosterone-riddled adolescence, but never satisfied 
my fundamental need for a companion who could, well, think like an 
international double agent while running in stilettos. All the good 
agents were taken. 

Actually, the one I knew had fallen for her partner, who was--you 
guessed it--the epitome of the elegantly dangerous spy. Sort of. 

Then, as if straight from the big screen, She stepped into my life, 
the svelte special agent. I hacked her gadgets. I traveled to the 
ends of the earth to save her (by satellite, anyway). 

Tonight I made her mine. And I didn't have to sell out to do it--
she actually likes my signature collection of Haz-Mat cum Bono Vox 
duds. It seems her X-ray goggles allow her to see the man inside. 
Basically, she gets me. 

So I raise my tumbler of Jim Beam to my fellow undercover 
James Bonds. May you find your special agent, without having to buy 
a toupee first. 

V-XO
***ADIOS*** 

Acknowledgments: 

Conversation Heart Candies, a classic from Necco--now available, 
Hispanic Hearts! 
http://www.necco.com/ 

Send your X-Files Conversation Heart suggestions to me!
nexxo@auburnished.com

I'll be posting them...
and remember:
TrustNo1