From: leighchristine@hotmail.com   
      
   TITLE: The Girl Who Laughed at the Rain   
   AUTHOR: Christine Leigh   
   E-MAIL: leighchristine@hotmail.com   
   RATING: G   
   CATEGORY: V   
   KEYWORDS: Angst   
   SPOILERS: Pilot, Detour, Existence   
      
   SUMMARY: Post-series.   
      
   DISCLAIMER: All characters are the products of   
   Chris Carter. They also belong to Ten-Thirteen   
   Productions and the Fox Network. No copyright   
   infringement intended.   
      
      
   The Girl Who Laughed at the Rain   
   By Christine Leigh   
      
   There are mornings when Mulder is reluctant to get   
   up, or when he doesn't want to awaken Scully (so he   
   tells himself) and on these occasions he finds   
   himself becoming increasingly indulgent.  The man   
   who used to be at his desk by 7:00 a.m. now allows   
   himself to dream, or half-dream as he contemplates   
   starting his day.  He never returns to sleep   
   completely, but if he is diligent his mind will   
   travel to places he long ago left behind.  The   
   greater his distance grows from the world he knew,   
   the more frequent are his visits there.  In a way   
   it's like having his own twilight zone.   
      
   "Agent Mulder . . . "   
      
   As she spoke those two words, he'd turned to look   
   at her.  This was their first meeting, and it is   
   difficult for him now to recall that there was ever   
   a time that he didn't listen for the sound of her   
   voice.  If it is not in his actual presence, it is   
   always just around the corner.  Their years   
   together have all but obliterated what came before,   
   and he sometimes will have the most vivid dreams   
   that depict conversations with her during times of   
   his life that occurred long before she was in it.   
   He would once again be at the junior prom with   
   Carol Leland in his arms, but it was *her* voice   
   that whispered in his ear.   
      
   Recently in these reveries he has taken to hearing   
   the sound of her laughter.  That night in the rain   
   at the cemetery they had both laughed like a couple   
   of crazy people, and while an argument could be   
   made that it was borderline hysteria that drove   
   them to it, this is one of his dearest moments to   
   recall.  It was as though she had been freed from   
   everything and was letting all that she held inside   
   of her loose as she became one with the water that   
   was pouring down upon her face.  This was no longer   
   an adult woman before him or a fellow agent, but a   
   girl -- a girl who laughed at the rain as though   
   she hadn't a worry in the world.  He remembers how   
   amazed he felt while witnessing this.   
      
   She doesn't laugh anymore.  Gentle smiles on   
   occasion, never wistful.  She is careful.  Her   
   broken heart quota has been met.  There are times   
   he would like to talk about their loss, but he   
   knows that doing so might break her.  It might   
   break him.  Yet, he often thinks of the infant boy   
   he held intermittently over the course of a day,   
   and who is never far from his heart.   
      
   *What are you going to call him?*   
      
   *William.*   
      
   Their life is not one that either of them wants.   
   They work when they can find employment, and when   
   neither can do that, they become regular customers   
   at the nearest food bank.  They live in dwellings   
   that cause them to long for the apartments that   
   they apparently took for granted.  They are thinner   
   and older looking.  She's still beautiful -- that   
   will never change in his eyes.  Her hair hasn't   
   been red for three years, and he misses it   
   terribly.  Her voice, though, is the same, and he   
   takes selfish comfort in that.  To hear her speak   
   is his favorite music.  She says she can't sing,   
   but he would listen to her all night if she ever   
   were to change her mind.  He knows that the chance   
   of that happening is slim, though.  It isn't the   
   recollection of the forest that night and her arms   
   around him as she caved to his request and sang to   
   him that is holding her back -- no, that memory is   
   a good one.  He guesses that she sang to William.   
   It tears him up to even think about it, but he's   
   fairly certain that this is the barrier.  So he   
   understands why he hasn't heard her sing since that   
   night so long past.   
      
   Were they lullabies -- her songs to their son, he   
   wonders?   
      
   It cannot be said that William was never part of   
   their plan since they'd never had one.  He was   
   their most beloved surprise, and his absence has   
   left a space in their lives that will never be   
   filled.  One night, some days after Scully had   
   explained to him how she came to bear his child and   
   he had acknowledged fully what was happening to the   
   two of them, she'd told him of the joy she'd felt   
   upon learning she was pregnant.  She'd had a few   
   hours, give or take, of pure happiness, she had   
   said.  Then Skinner had arrived.   
      
   They were in bed and the room was dark as she   
   relayed the story, and he'd cried upon hearing it.   
   It was a cleansing of a sort and the morning   
   following had brought a fresh start to them.  Now,   
   as he thinks of this time, he remembers it as their   
   happiest.  They were filled with awe, wonder, and   
   anticipation -- all the things he'd observed in   
   other prospective parents.  For lack of a better   
   word, he thinks of this as their 'normal' period.   
      
   *****   
      
   It had been an unremarkable day for the most part.   
   Mulder arrived home first -- his shift at Lucky's   
   Diner cut short. Business had really been down   
   lately and he is certain that his days there are   
   numbered.  Frankly, he doesn't care.  He has a cold   
   that has been trying to escalate into some sort of   
   bronchial thing for nearly two weeks, and today had   
   been bad.  However, he was able to bring dinner   
   home with him, so it hadn't been a complete waste   
   of time.  He shoved the food into the refrigerator   
   and then fell onto the couch in the tiny living   
   area.  He just needed a nap.  Soon, or so it   
   seemed, he heard her.   
      
   "Mulder.  Mulder, wake up."   
      
   She is tapping his shoulder.  He is freezing.  He   
   struggles and then finally opens his eyes.   
      
   "Mulder, you're burning up, and you were breathing   
   quite heavily."   
      
   "I'm sorry, Scully.  I just wanted a nap."  His   
   words sounded fuzzy.   
      
   "Mulder, we need to get you to bed.  Can you   
   stand?"   
      
   "Yeah."  Scully gripped him with both arms and   
   together they got him upright.  She held him tight   
   as they walked to the bedroom.  She helped him to   
   sit on the bed.   
      
   "Let me take your shirt off."  She unbuttoned and   
   removed the garment, and then helped him up so that   
   she could turn down the bed.   
      
   "Scully, I just need to sleep."   
      
   "Mulder, have you eaten anything since this   
   morning?"   
      
   He shook his head.   
      
   "I'm going to get you a glass of juice and some   
   acetaminophen."  He nodded again and watched as she   
   left the room.  Then he took his shoes off and   
   crawled under the covers.  If she would just hurry   
   back, he'd be all right.  It was getting dark   
   outside, he noticed.  He must have slept longer   
   than he'd intended.   
      
   "Can you sit up once more, please, Mulder?"   
      
   She'd brought juice, some saltine crackers, and two   
   Tylenol tablets.  He pulled himself up and she   
   handed him the juice first.   
      
   "Just sip it and then try to eat a cracker."   
      
   They sat in silence as he drank and bit off half of   
   a cracker.  He handed the other half back to Scully   
   and then set the glass down on the bedside table.   
      
   "No, you need to take these."  She handed him the   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)