"Where can a woman find any kind of peace? When does the fury and the agony
cease? How long have I got to say please?"
-From "Ain't it Heavy" by Melissa Etheridge
The plane didn't leave for another hour. Doggett and Reyes had left their apartment instantly, hardly pausing to throw a few necessities in a backpack. The airport was abandoned, which made it easy for Doggett to keep an eye out for anyone seeming suspicious. Reyes was sleeping with her head in his lap.
The man in the trench coat hadn't seen them yet, but he would. Doggett watched as he approached the counter and flashed some sort of badge in the face of the sleepy airline employee. He shook Reyes gently. Without saying a word, he pointed at the man.
"That's him, that's the guy who was following me." Her voice was barely above a whisper. The man was looking at the computer screen, making notes in his notepad. He appeared to be looking at different ticket reservations. At the moment, the agents were hidden from his view by a large pillar. Keeping the pillar between him and them, they slowly crept to a side exit and out of the airport.
Doggett started the car and headed for the exit to the parking ramp. The man had seen them; he was chasing after their car. A gunshot exploded, and they felt the back driver's side of the car sink a little. Doggett kept driving on the flat tire as another gunshot shattered the back window and whizzed out the front. Reyes head hit the dashboard, blood streaming from her temple. Doggett kept going, speeding out of the airport and down the empty two-lane highway.
***Mulder was standing behind their house, naked from the waist up. He had a bucket of cold water, a bar of soap and a washcloth. As the sweat and dirt from the day was washed off, his skin became three shades lighter. He watched Scully, in her pajamas, walk down to the creek behind their house and fill the top part of a filter with water. Once it ran through the filter it would have to be boiled hard, then it would be safe to drink. He whistled at her, and she jerked her head around sharply. Her hair was still wet from her nightly "shower."
"I would kill for running water right now," she said as she dragged the rather heavy filter back up the embankment.
"Me too," he answered as he dumped the last of the water from his bucket over his head. "Here, let me help you with that." He grabbed it and then playfully bumped Scully out of the way, causing her to stumble and almost fall back down the muddy slope.
"Fine. You carry it." Scully purposefully walked over to where he had been bathing and took his towel. Then she walked right past him saying, "You won't be needing this, will you?"
Mulder didn't answer. Instead, he set the filter down and shook his wet hair at her like a dog. She screamed playfully and ran away. He chased her and caught her easily, throwing her over his left shoulder, then picking up the water filter with his right hand and carrying both into the house.
Scully's laughter was not something Mulder had had the privilege of seeing very often. Even a smile was a rare treasure. Especially lately, with the ever present danger lurking about. It filled his heart with warmth and put a lump in his throat to see her happy. And the look in her eyes as he gently laid her down on the cot and sat down next to her—a look of trust and love—It was pure gold.
Much later, when Mulder was fast asleep, Scully stepped outside into the cool, damp night air. The moon was full, and here, away from the city lights, she could see billions of bright stars. These heavenly lights were more than enough for her to see her surroundings clearly. She stood there, silently, and rubbed her hands together. Her fingers found the cheap gold band on her ring finger—something they had purchased at a sleazy pawnshop while still in the states to make it easier to pose as a married couple. How she wished that it wasn't just a cover. She considered herself married to Mulder—after all, they were committed, in love, and truly planned on spending the rest of their lives together. All that was missing was a piece of paper making it legal. She allowed herself to imagine a beautiful wedding, with flowers, guests, music, and herself walking down the isle with her father in a beautiful white dress towards a fidgety and nervous, but ultimately perfect Mulder. It was a dream that she could never hope to see made reality. But she longed for something—something more than what they had. Some sort of security, a promise of more to come. It really is never enough, she though to herself. Never enough of what I want, what I need, and always too much of everything else.
"What are you doing, still awake? Come back to bed." Mulder stepped outside and placed a hand on her shoulder. She allowed herself to be pulled back inside, being drawn back to the reality of where she was
The plane didn't leave for another hour. Doggett and Reyes had left their apartment instantly, hardly pausing to throw a few necessities in a backpack. The airport was abandoned, which made it easy for Doggett to keep an eye out for anyone seeming suspicious. Reyes was sleeping with her head in his lap.
The man in the trench coat hadn't seen them yet, but he would. Doggett watched as he approached the counter and flashed some sort of badge in the face of the sleepy airline employee. He shook Reyes gently. Without saying a word, he pointed at the man.
"That's him, that's the guy who was following me." Her voice was barely above a whisper. The man was looking at the computer screen, making notes in his notepad. He appeared to be looking at different ticket reservations. At the moment, the agents were hidden from his view by a large pillar. Keeping the pillar between him and them, they slowly crept to a side exit and out of the airport.
Doggett started the car and headed for the exit to the parking ramp. The man had seen them; he was chasing after their car. A gunshot exploded, and they felt the back driver's side of the car sink a little. Doggett kept driving on the flat tire as another gunshot shattered the back window and whizzed out the front. Reyes head hit the dashboard, blood streaming from her temple. Doggett kept going, speeding out of the airport and down the empty two-lane highway.
***Mulder was standing behind their house, naked from the waist up. He had a bucket of cold water, a bar of soap and a washcloth. As the sweat and dirt from the day was washed off, his skin became three shades lighter. He watched Scully, in her pajamas, walk down to the creek behind their house and fill the top part of a filter with water. Once it ran through the filter it would have to be boiled hard, then it would be safe to drink. He whistled at her, and she jerked her head around sharply. Her hair was still wet from her nightly "shower."
"I would kill for running water right now," she said as she dragged the rather heavy filter back up the embankment.
"Me too," he answered as he dumped the last of the water from his bucket over his head. "Here, let me help you with that." He grabbed it and then playfully bumped Scully out of the way, causing her to stumble and almost fall back down the muddy slope.
"Fine. You carry it." Scully purposefully walked over to where he had been bathing and took his towel. Then she walked right past him saying, "You won't be needing this, will you?"
Mulder didn't answer. Instead, he set the filter down and shook his wet hair at her like a dog. She screamed playfully and ran away. He chased her and caught her easily, throwing her over his left shoulder, then picking up the water filter with his right hand and carrying both into the house.
Scully's laughter was not something Mulder had had the privilege of seeing very often. Even a smile was a rare treasure. Especially lately, with the ever present danger lurking about. It filled his heart with warmth and put a lump in his throat to see her happy. And the look in her eyes as he gently laid her down on the cot and sat down next to her—a look of trust and love—It was pure gold.
Much later, when Mulder was fast asleep, Scully stepped outside into the cool, damp night air. The moon was full, and here, away from the city lights, she could see billions of bright stars. These heavenly lights were more than enough for her to see her surroundings clearly. She stood there, silently, and rubbed her hands together. Her fingers found the cheap gold band on her ring finger—something they had purchased at a sleazy pawnshop while still in the states to make it easier to pose as a married couple. How she wished that it wasn't just a cover. She considered herself married to Mulder—after all, they were committed, in love, and truly planned on spending the rest of their lives together. All that was missing was a piece of paper making it legal. She allowed herself to imagine a beautiful wedding, with flowers, guests, music, and herself walking down the isle with her father in a beautiful white dress towards a fidgety and nervous, but ultimately perfect Mulder. It was a dream that she could never hope to see made reality. But she longed for something—something more than what they had. Some sort of security, a promise of more to come. It really is never enough, she though to herself. Never enough of what I want, what I need, and always too much of everything else.
"What are you doing, still awake? Come back to bed." Mulder stepped outside and placed a hand on her shoulder. She allowed herself to be pulled back inside, being drawn back to the reality of where she was