May Rain
by Christine Leigh

Summary: Scully POV on the eve of William's fifth
birthday.  Follows the canon of the series through "Requiem."
Possible character death.
Rating: G
Category: Vignette
Keywords: Post-series.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: All characters are the products of Chris Carter.
They also belong to Ten-Thirteen Productions and the Fox
Network. No copyright infringement intended.
Archiving: If you would like to archive anywhere, I'd 
appreciate a quick note first.
Email: Feedback is always welcome, leighchristine@hotmail.com


May 19, 2006

"Another, please."  Before the drink is put before her she has
placed the money on the bar.  Two is her limit.  When it comes
she takes a quick sip and the cold vodka sliding through her is a
liquid metaphor for her being at this moment, providing
seconds of false warmth in a perpetual chill.

She stares through the rows of bottles to the mirror behind
them, and the reflection of the rain falling outside the window
behind her.  It has been sunny for the past week, but the
forecast for today had changed and the rain started falling this
afternoon.  The light outside is a pearly hue, and as she
continues to sip she thinks of the increased humidity, a
conditioned response to the fact that it is always a bigger battle
to contain her hair in this weather.  Mulder likes it curly, but
she does not.  Liked, rather.

It's been nearly six years, but some of the time she will still
think of him in the present tense, like today -- he'd been all
around today.  She'd looked up three times from a report she'd
been writing, almost certain that she'd see him sitting there.
Hence, the self-imposed two drink limit.  Tomorrow she will
be William's mother; tonight she is Scully.

She has no empirical proof that Mulder is dead, but the only
way she has been able to exist is to believe that he has
somehow left this world.  After four years, she'd had to say to
everyone,  enough.  Her son was almost three at the time, and
she could no longer look at him with the uncertainty that was
grinding and reshaping her into someone else.  The fact was
that she already *was* someone else, and that was Will's
mother.  It was time for Scully to exit the scene.  Which she
had done, except for the times that the shame that seared her
for taking these steps showed its face.  More specifically, her
face.  Viewing herself is not a good thing on those days.  That's
when she comes here.

She looks at her watch.  Monica is with Will.  She'd stay the
night if necessary, but it won't be.  Tomorrow is Will's fifth
birthday, and she must be ready and happy. Time to call a cab.
She finishes her drink and finds her phone.  As she stands
inside the entrance to the bar, waiting, she once more
remembers that they never did say good-bye.  Whenever one or
the other of them was leaving, good-bye was one thing they
didn't often say.  And certainly not on that last morning.  She'd
been too superstitious to not treat it like any other day.

The cab pulls up to the curb and she walks into the rain.


- end  -