On the Porch
by Christine Leigh
                              
Summary: POV vignette.  Written for Fandomonium's Voyeur
Challenge.  Elements listed at the end. 
Rating: G
Category: V
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


The little ball bounced higher and there was escalating tension in
the air.  Not to be outdone, the man caught it just in time.  Now he
and his opponent both relaxed. She could see this.  The boy
emulated the man, and they were two of a kind now, sitting there
cross-legged on the porch.  From her spot beneath the elm she took
it all in. 

This was the second time she'd watched them play jacks.  The boy,
who was six years old, and his dad had been doing this the most
recent time she'd watched them, and it had taken her by surprise
that a child in this day and age could be entertained by something
so old-fashioned as jacks, but these two were definitely having fun
in between their bouts of intense concentration.  It had been so
long ago that she'd first seen that expression on the man's face, and
the memory of those times tugged at her.  She often left determined
never to come back.  So far, however, that had not occurred.

That he was a wonderful, loving father had been evident 30
seconds into her first visit, whereupon she'd watched him flip a
pancake like a pro.  It had been a Sunday morning, and to watch
him maneuvering in the kitchen had seemed like a scene out of an
urban fairytale, what with father and son happy, and enjoying
preparing a traditional weekend breakfast while waiting for mom
to awaken.  Indeed, from her viewpoint, it was almost surreal. 
Initially it had been somewhat overwhelming for her, so she'd
closed her eyes and just taken in the scents so long absent -- butter,
maple syrup, coffee, cocoa, and something else.  She wasn't sure
what it was, but it was good.  No balm ever was better.

He was handsome, too.  Not that this had ever escaped her notice
before, but she'd been so preoccupied with an unkind life, that
she'd never seen him in full as she did now.  He was a beautiful
man on so many counts.  Certainly the physical, but he had such a
heart.  That was a true miracle in her eyes.  Against the odds, he
had prevailed, and she only wished that she could take more credit
for that.  Her contributions were too few in the overall scheme of
his life. 

Now there was laughter.  They were finished with the jacks, and
the boy, William, got up and ran inside.  She had never considered
the possibility of a grandchild, but had come to love this little boy
whom she could not hold.  He was so like his father had been at the
same age, and she wanted to tell them both that. 

She watched Fox move to the hammock and then stretch out, warm
and lazy in the afternoon shade.  He was heading for a nap, she was
fairly certain.  She waited, and when he had closed his eyes, she
would step up.  She didn't always, but some of the time she
couldn't resist.  Maybe it meant nothing to him, and maybe he had
no conscious recollection of her being there.  These were things
she'd never know, but something propelled her to continue doing
this.  

After a few minutes his breathing was even.  Then she moved to
the porch and bent close to Fox's ear, noticing once again that it
was her father's.  That and the nose, he'd gotten.

Softly, she whispered.


- end  -

Challenge elements: 
* Scully or other POV (i.e. Scully/other as the voyeur)
* Mulder doing anything (eating seeds, reading over a casefile,
changing clothes, mowing the lawn, washing dishes, surfing the
net, pumping gas, etc. etc.) 
* Pure description (i.e. little or no dialogue) 
* It must be a new fic