The doorbell rang, and Scully had to race her small son to get to the
door. With a giggle and grin, William Fox Mulder toddled to the door in an
effort to beat his mother, but was unsuccessful. With a laugh, Dana lifted
him up in her arms before opening the door.
"Hello, John" She said with a surprised smile, but her discomfort was evident. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, holding a large pizza.
"Hey," John said, grinning embarrassedly, "Can I come in?"
"What? Sure." She answered, moving to the side and letting him enter the apartment. William studied John with watchful eyes, eyes that were exactly like his father's, before reaching his arms out to him.
John looked at Dana first, and took the boy when she gave him a nod of approval. He was a pro with the kids, Dana noticed, placing the pizza down on the coffee table. She had always been afraid to let John hold William, especially as a baby, because, having lost a child herself, she felt that it might hurt him to remember Luke. She had obviously been wrong. "I heard what happened," He told her, sitting down on the couch while he bounced William on his knee.
"From Monica, I'm guessing?" She asked. He nodded, setting William down on the floor. The boy wandered, bored by the lack of energy that the two adults seemed to have, and began playing with his yellow toy truck on the floor.
"Are you all right?" John asked, his tone, as always, filled with concern for her. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly, smiling at him before she let it go.
"Yes. I'm fine. It was difficult, letting him go," She stood up, sighing, "He wanted us to go with him, John. He wanted me to take William and we would go to Africa."
The news surprised John. "Why didn't you?" He asked.
The tears started to glisten in her eyes, "Because I didn't want to," She answered slowly, "I'm tired of the whole alien bit, John. I spent a major part of a year running from them, protecting William, and now that it's over I don't want to do it again. I don't want anything to do with aliens." She finished, sitting down again on the couch. "Mulder just didn't understand that. Am I wrong, John, for wanting to end this quest of his? For not wanting to finish it?"
"No, you're not wrong, Dana." John answered, "it's exactly as you said. His quest. Not yours. You don't have to finish something that you didn't want to, especially after what you've been through. Look, it seems as though you've had a better bummed out week," Dana smiled at the understatement, "so let's just chill out and have a couple of pizzas. You can pay me later."
= = = = =
The bar was dark and cool, still silent since the night was still young. Luke followed Monica in, taking in the dark exterior. She was really a beautiful woman, he thought as he studied her, but her eyes were just filled with too much sadness.
"So, tell me about yourself," Monica said with a smile after ordering them both beers. The bartender arrived with the beers a moment later, and she sipped hers while he played with his bottle.
"What would you like to know?"
"Anything. How long are you visiting? What's your favorite color, etc."
"I'm only here for a couple of days," Luke told her, looking down at the bottle, "but I think it may be even shorter than that. My favorite color's blue." He was a really handsome man, Monica thought, the way he acted indicated that he had charm and intelligence. She wasn't much of a drinker, but had felt the need to go and be somewhere she could sort out her thoughts. "How long have you been working with John?" Luke asked.
"A while," She didn't know it, but he saw her eyes grow sadder as she took another sip of her beer. She was in love with him, Luke realized. It was obvious in the way she acted when he wasn't there, the way her eyes and expression changed when he was mentioned.
"You're in love with him," Luke said, an hour and two beers later. It wasn't an accusation or a question, but an observation.
"Yes." Monica confessed, burying her head in her arms. She was drunk, having tried to keep up with Luke but not knowing that he could drink as much as he wanted without becoming drunk.
What a foolish world this is, Luke mused to himself, studying her as she sat there. She really was a sweet woman, any man would be lucky to have her, but it just wasn't meant for her to be with his father. Too many arrows, Luke chided cupid in his mind, too many hearts linked together.
"Come on, I'll take you home," He said, pulling at her arm gently. "You're too drunk to drive yourself." She groggily raised her head, but when she tried to walk, her legs wobbled. He took the keys from her, supporting her with his right arm, and led her out of the bar.
"Where do you live?" He asked, settling her into the passenger seat and buckling her seat belt.
She recited her address automatically, turning slowly to face him when he entered the driver's side. "You're drunk too. You shouldn't be driving."
"It's okay, really," Luke answered, starting the car, "it's your turn to take a break."
= = = = =
"Hello, John" She said with a surprised smile, but her discomfort was evident. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, holding a large pizza.
"Hey," John said, grinning embarrassedly, "Can I come in?"
"What? Sure." She answered, moving to the side and letting him enter the apartment. William studied John with watchful eyes, eyes that were exactly like his father's, before reaching his arms out to him.
John looked at Dana first, and took the boy when she gave him a nod of approval. He was a pro with the kids, Dana noticed, placing the pizza down on the coffee table. She had always been afraid to let John hold William, especially as a baby, because, having lost a child herself, she felt that it might hurt him to remember Luke. She had obviously been wrong. "I heard what happened," He told her, sitting down on the couch while he bounced William on his knee.
"From Monica, I'm guessing?" She asked. He nodded, setting William down on the floor. The boy wandered, bored by the lack of energy that the two adults seemed to have, and began playing with his yellow toy truck on the floor.
"Are you all right?" John asked, his tone, as always, filled with concern for her. She took his hand in hers, squeezing it reassuringly, smiling at him before she let it go.
"Yes. I'm fine. It was difficult, letting him go," She stood up, sighing, "He wanted us to go with him, John. He wanted me to take William and we would go to Africa."
The news surprised John. "Why didn't you?" He asked.
The tears started to glisten in her eyes, "Because I didn't want to," She answered slowly, "I'm tired of the whole alien bit, John. I spent a major part of a year running from them, protecting William, and now that it's over I don't want to do it again. I don't want anything to do with aliens." She finished, sitting down again on the couch. "Mulder just didn't understand that. Am I wrong, John, for wanting to end this quest of his? For not wanting to finish it?"
"No, you're not wrong, Dana." John answered, "it's exactly as you said. His quest. Not yours. You don't have to finish something that you didn't want to, especially after what you've been through. Look, it seems as though you've had a better bummed out week," Dana smiled at the understatement, "so let's just chill out and have a couple of pizzas. You can pay me later."
= = = = =
The bar was dark and cool, still silent since the night was still young. Luke followed Monica in, taking in the dark exterior. She was really a beautiful woman, he thought as he studied her, but her eyes were just filled with too much sadness.
"So, tell me about yourself," Monica said with a smile after ordering them both beers. The bartender arrived with the beers a moment later, and she sipped hers while he played with his bottle.
"What would you like to know?"
"Anything. How long are you visiting? What's your favorite color, etc."
"I'm only here for a couple of days," Luke told her, looking down at the bottle, "but I think it may be even shorter than that. My favorite color's blue." He was a really handsome man, Monica thought, the way he acted indicated that he had charm and intelligence. She wasn't much of a drinker, but had felt the need to go and be somewhere she could sort out her thoughts. "How long have you been working with John?" Luke asked.
"A while," She didn't know it, but he saw her eyes grow sadder as she took another sip of her beer. She was in love with him, Luke realized. It was obvious in the way she acted when he wasn't there, the way her eyes and expression changed when he was mentioned.
"You're in love with him," Luke said, an hour and two beers later. It wasn't an accusation or a question, but an observation.
"Yes." Monica confessed, burying her head in her arms. She was drunk, having tried to keep up with Luke but not knowing that he could drink as much as he wanted without becoming drunk.
What a foolish world this is, Luke mused to himself, studying her as she sat there. She really was a sweet woman, any man would be lucky to have her, but it just wasn't meant for her to be with his father. Too many arrows, Luke chided cupid in his mind, too many hearts linked together.
"Come on, I'll take you home," He said, pulling at her arm gently. "You're too drunk to drive yourself." She groggily raised her head, but when she tried to walk, her legs wobbled. He took the keys from her, supporting her with his right arm, and led her out of the bar.
"Where do you live?" He asked, settling her into the passenger seat and buckling her seat belt.
She recited her address automatically, turning slowly to face him when he entered the driver's side. "You're drunk too. You shouldn't be driving."
"It's okay, really," Luke answered, starting the car, "it's your turn to take a break."
= = = = =