It Ain't Over Yet

Author's Note: This little story practically reflects what I experienced on New Year's Eve this year. I still haven't managed to call the guy... I needed some way to compensate the whole story, so I thought I could just turn it into a fanfiction, putting myself into the position of Jimmy and the guy in question into Yves's. It wouldn't work the other way round, for Jimmy would then be too much out of character. Unfortunately Yves is, though... at least a little. Tell me what you think of it... as always, send a review even if you didn't like this. Oh, and as always... if you spot any grammar/spelling/vocab mistakes, please tell me. And please don't feel like a teacher when you do - you'd be helping me! Really!

Disclaimer: I don't own any the characters mentioned. They belong to Chris Carter, Frank Spotnitz and whoever else was involved in TLG (or inventing the characters on "The X-Files", for that matter). The song at the end is mine, though. I'm not taking any profit out of this story... I'm writing it merely to get some things straight.

Summary: This takes place about two years after the death of the Gunmen. Jimmy and Yves have lost the contact despite everything that was about to develop between them. Now they meet again in a club... by chance... Told from Jimmy's point of view.

And now the story.

Only when I ended up standing all alone on this sort of balcony above the dancefloor did it occur to me that I didn't have as many friends as I always thought. Although I had happened to meet some distant acquaintances every now and then, I had spent most of the evening on my own, clutching a bottle of cheap beer, watching people. When I'd left my apartment this evening, I'd had only a few very modest intentions: Have some fun. Meet a few people. Drink and dance the whole night through and clear my head of all the thoughts rushing through my brain.

But then I realized that this was an easy thing to intend, but a very hard thing to put into practice. The evening stretched on, and apart from a "Hi, how you're doing?" now and then I hadn't talked to anyone, let alone met new people or made friends. I'd always considered myself a sociable person. But all the friends I used to have seemed to have forgotten me. The only real friends I'd had were the Gunmen.

But they have been dead and gone for two years - died as heroes and buried in Arlington. And on this very day, I lost another person. A woman who once meant the world to me; a woman for whom I would have done anything.

I'm talking about Yves, of course. She and I never quite got around to anything, but still I think that there was something between us... a special something only we could see. But we parted before we could make out what it was. Of course we tried to stay in touch, or at least I tried. But apart from an occasional call now and then, nothing happened. I felt her slip from me every time I tried to reach her and only got her answering machine. She never had time for me, although she seemed to be genuinely delighted whenever I called. And then somehow the bond between us vanished.

I didn't call her this Christmas, and neither did she. Maybe she spent the holidays with some beautiful guy in Monte Carlo or on a cruise on the Nile...

Did she forget me? I wondered. I couldn't imagine that; there was so much between us that remained unspoken. But how come, then, that we weren't able to keep in touch?

All these things were going through my head while I was standing on that balcony, looking down into the crowd. I watched them dance, drink, laugh, kiss... And of course I saw Yves everywhere I looked.

Suddenly a shock went through my body. I had been staring blankly at one spot when something familiar met my eye. The swish of soft, heavy dark curls hanging loosely down the back of a beautiful woman... I blinked and looked closer. The stroboscopic lights were of no help, but once I had fixed my eyes on this woman, it became clearer and clearer to me that this time I wasn't seeing ghosts.

It was her. Yves. She was here, only a few meters away from me.

My heart started to race at once and I felt my fingers start to tremble. I groped the bottle of beer tighter and clenched my teeth.

Yves was standing right below the balcony so I could actually look down on her head. While I was still watching, she turned a little aside so that I could see her from sideways on. It was unmistakeably her. I had never forgotten her face...

She was talking to a man of about my age standing next to her. I watched with a jealous eye, looking for any sign that showed that they were more than just friends, companions or colleagues. But I couldn't see anything that would have given them away - neither were they holding hands, nor did Yves seem coy in any way. She was just talking to him.

I fought a battle with myself. Should I dare just go down and say hi? How would she react? It had been almost two years since we'd last seen each other. I didn't know anything as to how her life had gone on...

I pulled myself together. After all, I could hardly ignore her. I would regret it for the rest of my life. And maybe... just maybe she would be pleased to see me.

I downed the rest of my beer, left the empty bottle on the floor and went down the stairs. My heart was beating faster and faster as I was approaching her. She was standing with her back turned towards me, so that I would have to draw her attention to me.

Oh God...

I reached her and kept standing behind her for a few seconds, just looking at her. All that I had ever felt for her came back with a flash, washing over me like a giant wave. I gasped. But now it was too late to give up.

I stretched out my hand and softly touched her shoulder. She interrupted herself right in the middle of her sentence and turned to me.

I smiled nervously. "Hey," I said silently, barely audible over the loud music.

Yves looked at me a moment longer, then a smile slowly started to curl her soft lips. "Hey Jimmy," she said.

There was an odd moment of silence between us, then I simply stretched out my arms and pulled her into a hug. Her arms immediately slid around my neck and she hugged me back. I thought she'd let go of me again, but she surprised me by shifting the position of her arms in order to pull me closer. I felt her head rest against the side of my neck, and all I could think was, 'Oh my God, this something between us... it's still there...'

"So good to see you," I murmured into her ear. She didn't say anything, but she finally let go of me and looked into my eyes.

I squirmed a little uneasily. "Well... how've you been?" I asked.

She gave a smile and then put a hand on my arm. "Let's go outside," she said. Without waiting for my answer, she took my hand into hers and pulled me through the crowd, heading for the exit. I couldn't but follow her.

Outside, she turned to me.

"How're you doing, Jimmy?" she asked. "I haven't seen you for... ages."

"Been awhile," I agreed. "Almost two years."

Yves nodded. Then she pulled out a cigarette and put it between her lips. "Got a light?" she asked.

"Sure," I said. I dug in my pocket and finally got a hold on my lighter. I switched it on and tried to reach the tip of her cigarette. But the wind blew out the flame before the cigarette was lighted.

"Try again," said Yves, and when I switched on the lighter this time, she sheltered the flame with her own hands. Whether it was deliberate or not, she touched my hand with hers while she was steering the flame towards the tip of the cigarette. I put my other hand over the flame as well, and when the cigarette was lighted, our hands remained linked for a second.

Then Yves gave a short laugh. "Jimmy, I'm really too drunk for this," she said.

I frowned. "Too drunk for what?" I asked.

"To talk," she answered, leaning against the wall.

I looked at her a little more closely. I had never seen her drunk, and she could still talk very clearly, but I noticed a certain look in her eyes that gave evidence of her words. Though not completely drunk, she very obviously wasn't sober.

"You've started celebrating at home, then?" I asked with a smile.

"Yeah, with Vodka," she said. A short pause followed, then she sighed. "I gotta sit down for a sec," she announced. "Shall we go back inside?"

"You really think we're gonna get a seat?" I asked dubiously.

"I'll manage," she replied.

I shrugged. "Very well then, let's go back inside."

She took my hand again and we went inside and upstairs. She met someone she knew on the way and wasted a few minutes talking to a heavyset blonde woman. Then she turned to me and smiled. "I'll sit down there," she said and sank heavily into an empty chair.

The only empty chair around, to be exact, so I remained standing next to her, bending down to her a little so that we could talk.

"I'm sorry, I'm really too drunk," she repeated.

"Nevermind," I said. "How are things apart from that?"

"OK," she said thoughtfully. "Yeah, things have been going well. And you?"

"Well..." I plunged into the story of how my life had been in the past two years. Yves seemed to listen carefully though I doubted that she took in everything I told her.

We chatted about this and that for about five minutes, then she suddenly got up again. "I gotta go," she said rather abruptly. "Jake's waiting for me downstairs."

Jake. The guy she was here with. I started wondering again if he was her new boyfriend. But I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to seem too keen. Didn't want to get on her nerves.

"It was great to see you, Jimmy," she said solemnly while she was getting up. Finally standing straight before me, she put her arms around me once again, pulling me into a hug that seemed to last a lifetime. I was just about to say something when I suddenly felt her lips against my face. Startled, I remained silent, but the thought that rushed through my head was, 'She is going to kiss me now.' And I wasn't in the least surprised.

Yves kissed me gently on one side of my jaw. Before I had the time to react it some way, she moved on and sought my lips. She placed another gentle kiss on my mouth, then her lips parted against mine and I felt her tongue run along the lines of my own lips. I automatically responded to her, put my arms closer around her and returned the kiss. Yves retreated shortly, but only to put her head to the other side and kiss me again. This second kiss deepened and was even more intense than the first one. I couldn't but return it, allowing her the permission her tongue sought.

When our lips finally parted, I was left in a mess of feelings running through my head. Yves had kissed me... slowly, deliberately, tenderly. And yet, although I felt lighter than air, I wasn't as startled as I should have been. It somehow felt... natural. The right thing to do.

"Did you owe me this?" I heard myself say against her ear.

She smiled but didn't say anything. And with a last gentle squeeze of my hand, she was gone, leaving me standing there, staring after her in an odd mixture of disbelief and excitement. And, yes... a sort of satisfaction. As if something that was bound to happen finally had happened. And maybe I was right... The only question now was whether this kiss really meant anything. Taking into consideration how things had been between me and Yves while were still working with the guys, it could mean anything... goodbye, beginning, mistake, promise or closure. Or simply the settling of a long overdue score.

Not until fifteen minutes later did I manage to go up to the balcony again and look down into the crowd once more, my eyes thoroughly scanning the people down there, searching for her.

But I didn't find her.

I still hadn't given up the hope of finding Yves when another two hours had passed. And I was finally rewarded: I discovered her standing at a table, talking to the same blonde woman she had greeted before. She seemed more sober than two hours ago. She was standing firmly on the ground and the hand that held another cigarette (when did she start smoking? I wondered) was steady.

I argued with myself if I should go over, but I decided against it. If the kiss had really been a sort of closure - something to end this odd something between us - then she might be bothered if I tried to talk to her about it. So I decided to remain within her eyesight; if she wanted to talk to me, she could just come up to me and do so. I was alone.

I stood there, watching the people on the dancefloor, for about ten minutes, now and then casting a secret glance from the corner of my eye over to Yves. She was still talking to the blonde.

I looked at the dancefloor again when I noticed that Yves was moving. I slowly turned my head into her direction.

She reached me and went straight up to me. She put a hand on my chest.

"Hey," I said, lightly touching her shoulder.

She didn't say anything, but she came closer to me and kissed me again. This kiss landed somewhere on the corner of my mouth and I felt the tip of her tongue only briefly, for before I could react she had withdrawn again, smiled at me and continued her way.

Although I kept searching the whole club for her, I couldn't find her after this last incident. I supposed she had left. I couldn't find this Jake guy, either, so the question remained whether he was her new boyfriend or not.

And whether Yves had wanted to tell me something by the kiss.

I couldn't figure it out, and when I left at about five in the morning, I had my head full of images of Yves and of the feeling of her lips against mine. And I decided to call her the next day.

Provided that I dared.

Whatever it was
I will always remember
Be it blaze or an ember
Beginning or ending
Real or pretending
Whatever it was
It ain't over yet

Whatever you'll say
I'll accept your decision
With or without ambition
Be it future or past
The first or the last
Whatever you'll say
It ain't over yet

I've got to know the reason
Was it love or was it treason
Was it true or was it fake
Did you pursue some higher stake
But whatever you say
And whatever you do
Don't tell me it's over
It ain't over yet

Whatever we missed
I will always regret it
And I'll never forget it
Be it far, be it near
Gone for good or still here
Whatever we missed
It ain't over yet

Whatever may be
We should try to achieve it
Get a hold and retrieve it
Be it harmless or not
Cold and dead or still hot
Whatever may be
It ain't over yet

I've got to know the reason
Was it love or was it treason
Did you feel or just react
Is there a chance or is it wrecked
But whatever there was
And whatever may be
Don't tell me it's over
It ain't over yet

Whatever it was
And whatever you'll say
Whatever we missed
And whatever's to stay
Let's not lose our connection
Let's not call it a day
Let's just be the exception
To the rule; come what may

It ain't over yet
It ain't over yet

You are way too important
I won't lose you like this
There's too much I would miss
You're a soulmate, a friend
If I must, I'll pretend
To prevent you from leaving
To save myself from grieving
You're a part of my life
Which ain't over yet

It ain't over yet

End Note: I know there practically is no real plot to this story. But I just had to get rid of this. And writing a story is always a good way of coping with things one carries. This one certainly isn't gonna win the Pulitzer Prize, but it's real and personal. I still haven't figured out everything concerning this guy; I haven't called him or written him a letter or something... because I don't know if there was anything behind it or not. And as much as I wanna know the reason, I don't want to spoil anything between us. So if anyone of you can give me some advice as to what to do next... I'd be grateful to hear it.