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Email: PoisonLollyPop@aol.com

Rating: G. Nothing offensive.

Disclaimer: No, these gorgeous characters don't belong to me. They're copyright Chris Carter and Fox Entertainment. PLEASE don't sue me, because I've only got... um.. .: looks in her pocket :. fifty cents, a paperclip, and some lint.

Feedback: The answer is always yes. PoisonLollyPop@aol.com or review me on fanfiction.net.

Summary: Reflection piece... no pun intended, seriously. I really tried to come up with an original title. Scully contemplates her reflection in the water, among other things (like her relationship with Mulder.) Be nice, it's my first X-files fic. Review, por favor? It's a good deed, you know!


Notes: Not many. I'm not an X-phile!!! I haven't seen all the episodes! I've been reading transcripts since God knows when, because I love this show, but I still don't qualify since I haven't gotten past the third season... .:hides face in shame:. I mean, I know basically what happens, but.... oh, you get the idea.

Spoilers: I don't know enough about the series to have spoilers.

Warnings: Noromos, beware. There is implied romance in this story. YES, M/S, who do you think??

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Reflections
by Raven


I stare at my image in the crystal blue water. She looks right back with a gaze every bit as intense as my own. She is my copy in every way, right down the feelings buried inside her watery heart. My twin. I almost chuckle morbidly at the thought. A sister. Not anymore. I had a sister, one I could've kept for life if I hadn't made such a stupid mistake. Shaking my head, I force the memory away. Not now.

She studies me, raising first one eyebrow, then the other. No, you can't see the flaws outside. I'm looking at ivory skin, untouched, coral lips, auburn hair that frames my angular face like a corona of fire. Dainty ears, mostly hidden under the red locks. And eyes.... once as clear as these waters now clouded with sorrow. Eyes that have seen too much, too many times.

Is that what the FBI does to you? I've seen the same look in Mulder's eyes many times. A yearning, almost, a longing to forget things... Together we've been through so much, so many horrible tribulations. Some would say it's a shame. Two of the Bureau's most promising agents, with dedication enough to move mountains, stuffed in the basement among dusty filing cabinets and forgotten.

But I'll never regret it. Even if it wasn't to my liking in the first place, I decided to stay there. I see a tiny smile creep across my twin's face as I think about my first day in that office. My determined exterior as I walked down the hallway and opened the door to that secluded office, finding Mulder sitting in his chair. Hostility shone through his hazel eyes at first; he thought I was a spy. He fixed me with a stare that may well have sent anyone else reeling. I knew he was trying to scare me off. And I *was* scared. I was almost shaking. It's a miracle that I managed to hold my ground and introduce myself.

And then when we shook hands... I think both of us felt the connection. I've never been a believer in fate, but I do know for certain that something happened during the time our hands made contact. An electric shock that created a stable bond. It drew us to one another and even now, seven years later, through all the forces pulling us apart, we haven't let go.

My relationship with Mulder is mostly what has kept me going, in both my career and my life. Not many people are so close. We dance on the line between friends and lovers, occasionally taking steps off the boundary in both directions. It's comforting to be tied to someone who you know will never leave you if they can help it.

I lean closer to my copy and she moves in as well, mimicking me. A small sigh escapes both our lips and the reflection ripples slightly, disturbed by my slightly distempered breath. Sitting back, I watch her return to focus, just as she was before.

It brings to mind all the times I've been shaken so badly I couldn't stand up. Even though I returned from each of those experiences seemingly unchanged, in reality a small part of me was taken. A part that I'll never miss, but that will force me to remember the event for as long as my mind is my own. I think of all those times... the countless repetition of my famous line. "I'm fine, Mulder." And each time that little part was nagging at me.

He knew, of course. He can read me so easily. But he never pressed the issue. Now, I almost wish that he had. I wasn't fine, I never was. And he saw it, whether it was apparent through my stance, my gaze, my countenance, or my posture. Even if I never let it show, he could still feel it. That man has a sixth sense. He recognized that I was hiding my pain, but me let me have my dignity and left it alone.

Mulder never ceases to amaze me. So many simple things he sets aside as obvious would never even occur to another man. Aspects that are easily overlooked are so apparent to his trained eyes.

Maybe I should start believing in fate; it's a wonder that we found each other. "Partner" couldn't be a more fitting word. With my scientific logic and his theoretical explanations, we are two pieces in the jigsaw puzzle of the world that interlock perfectly.

Something shifts position in my subconscious, and I break out of my trance and blink a few times before I realize what it is. A penetrating stare is fixed on me. It's been there for a while, but I was so lost in thought I didn't notice. I watch as another grin tugs at the mouth of my reflection. Speak of the devil.

I watch out of the corner of my eye. There he is, just like I knew he'd be. A tall, strong frame. Standard gray suit and a blue tie. Pale trenchcoat draped over one arm. Dark hair being tousled by a soft breeze. Standing nonchalantly at the edge of the pool, supposedly watching the water. But I know he's looking at me.

So I turn my head to him, noting that my twin does the same thing. He glances up, and our gazes connect. We stay there for a few precious moments, locked in mutual understanding. Our reflections stare at one another in turn, never passing up the chance to copy our movements.

I give a slow, tiny smile, which broadens when he returns the gesture and makes his way toward me. I stay put for a moment, watching him, then turning back to my copy. She offers nothing, no advice, no suggestions. She just grins at me in farewell as I rise up to meet him halfway.


What did you think?? I actually kinda liked it.
PoisonLollyPop@aol.com