From: msnsc21@aol.com   
      
   ok for newsgroup, I will send to Gossamer and Ephemeral.  Thanks!   
   Clear Sighted by ML   
   part 2 of 2   
      
   =====   
      
   Once again, Scully surprised him.  Her question was totally   
   unexpected under the current circumstances.  But if Scully   
   was now ready to talk, he would listen.  Hadn't he wanted   
   this, for Scully to turn to him?  He took her question as   
   seriously as it was meant.   
      
   "I'm not sure," he said.  "I don't even want to imagine a   
   situation where I'd have to.  Maybe it's best that we aren't   
   usually given a choice."   
      
   "No, really," she said.  "I've been thinking about this a lot   
   lately.  Obviously, I wouldn't *choose* to lose any of my   
   senses, but if I was forced to, I think that it might be   
   sight."   
      
   "Why?"  Mulder asked.  He tried to put himself in Scully's   
   shoes.  Not to be able to see her face, to watch the changes   
   in her eyes...no.  He couldn't make that choice.   
      
   "You can hear subtleties in people's voices that aren't   
   always apparent in their appearance," she said.  "Remember   
   what Gibson said about people saying one thing and thinking   
   another?  That's true of faces and voices, too."   
      
   "Yeah, I can understand that," Mulder conceded.  "What about   
   touch?  Or sense of smell or taste?  If you're talking about   
   still being able to function, and in a way that most people   
   wouldn't know you were impaired, those might be better choices."   
      
   "I'm not talking so much about impairment as what *I'd* be   
   able to live without," she said.  "I'm sure you've read the   
   studies about babies who've not done well developmentally   
   due to lack of contact with their mothers or other human   
   touch.  I think it's true for adults too.  I'm thinking   
   more about the quality of life than the functions of life.   
   If I couldn't see, I wouldn't be able to do the job I do   
   now, but I'd still be able to read, and write, and do a lot   
   of other things.  I think I'd still be able to enjoy life."   
      
   "I think there's a difference between never having experienced   
   touch -- giving and receiving -- and losing the ability,   
   same as other senses," Mulder replied.   
      
   "Are you saying you don't miss what you've never had?"   
   Scully asked.   
      
   "No, not at all.  I think that they're both equally bad,   
   though for different reasons.  As to losing something you've   
   had and how *that* affects you, I think you can choose, to   
   a certain extent."   
      
   "You mean, glass half-empty or half-full?  Scully asked.   
   "That's a bit of an over-simplification, but I guess it   
   works.  It's not what life throws at you, but how you deal   
   with it."   
      
   "Exactly,"  Mulder said.  "I think you've been thinking   
   about this more than just recently."   
      
   "I think about it a lot," Scully confessed.  "Do you remember   
   once I asked you if you'd ever thought about dying?"  Mulder   
   nodded.  "When I was ill, I had to reconcile myself to loss.   
   I did lose my sense of smell and taste for a while.  I feared   
   I'd lose my sight and other senses as well.  I tried to   
   reconcile myself to that.  I tried to bargain.  You know,   
   `I can live without smelling or tasting my food if'...well,   
   you get the picture."   
      
   He did.  He also saw the evening rapidly going south and   
   he had no clue how to rescue it.  This was an important   
   conversation for Scully, and he didn't want to belittle it.   
   He recognized that talking about it at all was a big step.   
   He'd missed the opportunity before, he wasn't going to miss   
   it again.   
      
   "But losing your sight wasn't anything you could plan for,"   
   he said gently.   
      
   Scully shook her head.  "How could I?  I barely believed that   
   Peattie could do what he did.  And until you showed me the   
   poppet, I had no idea.  It happened so fast..."   
      
   "I'm sorry I wasn't there," he said.  He closed his eyes and   
   replayed the moment he arrived at the cabin.  So many times   
   he'd barely gotten there in time.  He never thought much   
   about losing a part of himself, except where Scully was   
   concerned.   
      
   "It wasn't your fault, Mulder," she said softly. "Never   
   believe that I think that."   
      
   "Losing you is losing a part of myself," he said.  "I've   
   always seen it that way, almost from the beginning.   
   Anything else is negotiable."   
      
   Scully closed her eyes briefly and she uttered a quiet,   
   pained, "Mulder..."   
      
   "It's okay," he said.  "I just don't ever want to go a day   
   without seeing you, or talking to you, or touching you.   
   The best days are when I get to do all of them."  He smiled   
   at her.  "When you talk about losing a part of yourself, and   
   I apply it to my own situation, it's how I think about it.   
   In terms of not being able to touch you, or hear you, or see   
   you."   
      
   He reached for her hand.  "I don't think I could give up   
   any of those," he said, and raised her fingers to his lips.   
      
   "That's what I meant, too," she said, surprising the hell   
   out of him.  "I thought about what it would be like to   
   never see you again -- but the thought of not being able   
   to hear you or touch you is much worse."  She took his   
   hand in both of hers and held it to her cheek.  "If I   
   was supposed to learn something from this case, maybe   
   that's what I learned."   
      
   They looked at each other without speaking.  Finally,   
   Mulder said, "Let's take that last cannoli to go."   
      
   There were several cabs along the street waiting for   
   fares.  Mulder approached the first one in line.   
      
   "You want the tour?"  The driver asked.  "San   
   Francisco by Night?"   
      
   Mulder looked to Scully.  "You want to?"  She nodded.   
   She was not delaying the inevitable; she wanted to   
   enjoy the feeling of anticipation a while longer.   
      
   It started out innocently enough.  The driver took them   
   to all the fabled areas:  The Barbary Coast, Haight-Ashbury,   
   Lombard Street, the Castro.  He had something to say about   
   all of them, a practiced patter.  But his passengers were   
   more interested in sights of a more personal nature.   
      
   They'd just been holding hands.  Scully occasionally leaned   
   across Mulder to point something out.  He drank in her scent   
   and brushed his lips against her cheek as she sat back again.   
   She smiled up at him, smoothing the hair at his temple.   
   He cupped her cheek, letting his thumb caress her lips.   
   She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes for a moment.   
   He took the opportunity to brush her lips with his.   
      
   The view outside the windows was forgotten as they   
   discovered more interesting territory.   
      
   The honking of the cab's horn broke the spell.  Scully   
   looked up, dazzled by the lights of Fisherman's Wharf.   
   They were at a standstill, waiting with other cars for   
   the lights to change.  Shoals of pedestrians surged   
   around the cars.   
      
   Scully leaned forward to tell the driver, "We want to   
   get out here."   
      
   "You don't want the rest of the tour?"  he asked.   
      
   "No, but we'll pay for the whole thing,"  Mulder chimed in.   
      
   The driver shook his head.  He'd noticed they weren't   
   paying much attention to him anyway, or the sights he'd   
   pointed out to them.  He shrugged.  They'd been better   
   behaved than some of his passengers.   
      
   "We're within walking distance of our hotel," Scully said.   
      
   "You didn't stop for Ripley's?"  Mulder teased.   
      
   "No, I wanted to show you something else," Scully said.   
   She tugged him toward the water.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)