It Still Ain't Over

Author's Note: The structure of the story is a little bit confusing, what with the chapters being automatically numbered by the system. But just so you know, this one is called and referred to as chapter TWO, not chapter three (due to my labeling the little inbetween-chapter an "intermezzo", not a real chapter).

Disclaimer: Still not mine. But this time, the song at the end is.

One fine day, it was around the equinox in March, I was sitting all alone in my hotel room on my bed. I had arrived in New York yesterday and planned to stay for some time before I went down to Washington and then to Arlington. I wanted to visit the guys, and I had the light suspicion that I would not be the only one standing in front of the memorials. I was almost certain that I would meet Assistant Director Skinner from the FBI. I doubted, though, if Fox Mulder and Dana Scully would make it. They were still on the run, from all I knew.

And then, of course, there was the question as to whether Yves would be there.

And then, just like that, I did it.

I took the phone, took a deep breath and dialed the number of Yves's cell phone. It rang once, twice... My heart was racing at top speed. I tried to brace myself, to prepare for the moment I would hear her sweet voice again and, if possible, not faint right on the spot.

There was a crackle in the phone line and then Yves's voice came out of the receiver.

"Hello?" She sounded slightly breathless.

I tried to sound as casual and cheery as I could.

"Hi Yves, this is Jimmy," I said and waited for her reaction. Would she even recognize me at once?

It didn't take her as much as a split second; it was almost as if she had been expecting my call. "Oh, hi," she said, and she sounded genuinely delighted. "Jimmy. How are you doing?"

"Fine, fine, and you?"

"Me too."

"What are you doing right now? Did I disturb you?"

In my mind I was cursing myself. Here I was, doing small talk, although there were so many questions I was burning to ask her.

"Well, not really." Yves laughed. "I'm just up to my ears into work. Was just studying an essay about the works of Salvador Dalí; gotta play an art college student for a few weeks. Don't ask me; it's a new job."

I promised I wouldn't interrogate her.

"Where are you?" I asked.

"New York," she answered, and my heart leaped into my throat.

"Really? So am I!" I burst out.

"Are you?" Suddenly there was an (ever so light) edge in her voice. It sent little icicles sliding down my spine, and I wondered if I had said anything wrong.

"Yeah, I am," I answered. "And, hey, why don't we meet up tonight? Have a few drinks somewhere, talk a little?"

"Well, yeah, maybe," she said. "But I can't guarantee. I'm leaving town tomorrow afternoon, and I've got loads of stuff to do before that. So I really don't know if I'll have the time. I'd rather say no, Jimmy. I'm sorry."

My world was crumbling, but I didn't want her to notice even the slightest thing. "Well, 'twas just a thought," I said. "After all, it's been a while. And I was just thinking it would be nice to see you when you're not, uhm, completely drunk."

Yves laughed. "Well, you're right, that's a good argument," she said. "But honestly, Jimmy, I don't think it's gonna work. And I'm sorry, but I gotta hang up now. Don't have much time."

Every fiber of me wanted to scream, "Please don't!", but the last thing I wanted was Yves thinking I was running after her. If she didn't have the time to see me, then that was that. I should just accept it. But going on without having sorted things out... I knew that if I couldn't talk to her soon, and in person, that night would haunt me forever. And I just couldn't cope. I needed to know. But how could I tell her without creating the impression that I was desperate? The most important thing now was not losing her. If that meant that I simply had to ignore what had happened between us, then OK. But still... there had to be a way for me to let her know I really wanted to see her without scaring her away.

"Jimmy?" Yves asked. I winced. I hadn't noticed that I had remained silent for quite a while.

"Still there," I said.

"Listen, I really gotta hang up now," she said. "I'll call you tomorrow, that okay? Maybe I will after all have some time to spare for you."

"That would be great," I said. "You still have my number?"

Yves hesitated for a moment, then she said, "Well, yeah, somewhere. But why don't you just give it to me one more time? I'll write it down."

"Alright." I dictated my cell phone number and my landline, and I heard her pen scratching over paper.

"Got 'em," she said. "I'll call you tomorrow."

"I'll make sure I'm available," I promised.

Yves laughed silently. "Good to hear from you, Jimmy," she said.

Suddenly there was a lump in my throat, and I swallowed hard. "Yeah, you too," I said. "See you around."

"OK. Bye, Jimmy."

"Bye."

I remained there with the receiver in my hand even after she had hung up, not knowing if I should feel relieved, depressed or excited. Now I had finally reached her, but was I now wiser than before?

I waited and waited. I didn't dare to go anywhere without having my cell phone ready for fear I might miss her call. Heck, I even took it with me to the bathroom. When I went out in the afternoon, I avoided the subway because I wasn't sure if I'd get a call connected from underground.

But Yves didn't call.

When it was closing in on 4 pm, I couldn't stand it any longer. Although I felt a little uneasy when I took the phone and dialed her number, I just couldn't wait any longer. I had reached a point at which I just wanted to get things straight. I wanted a clear answer. No maybes, no probablys, no ifs, no buts. Just a plain, simple yes or no.

While I was waiting for the call to be connected, I remembered our telephone conversation from yesterday. Was there anything I could conclude from her reactions? But all I remembered was that she had seemed to be really delighted to hear from me, and that she was reluctant to meet me. But on the other hand I didn't think she had lied to me. Knowing Yves, I was sure she had a lot to do. Maybe she really just didn't have time for me.

Yves answered the phone on the fifth ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me again, Jimmy."

"Jimmy! Oh! Hi!" Yves sounded a little distracted, and I heard a door closing in the background.

"You having a guest over there?" I asked. "Is my timing bad?"

"No," Yves said. "I mean, well, it's not the best of moments for you to call; I'm halfway through a meeting with a client, but we were about to take a break, anyway."

"Well," I said, "I thought you were leaving town today?"

"Yes, I am," said Yves. "In about an hour. I'm sorry, Jimmy, I know I said I'd call you. I always promise to call and then I don't. Sorry for that."

"Nevermind," I said. "That's why I called you now."

My goodness, I thought, now how clumsy does that sound? Like a fifteen-year-old trying to ask his crush out on a first date!

"So..." Yves drawled.

"So I just wanted to ask you if you've changed your mind about that meeting," I said.

Yves sighed. "I'm sorry, but it's not gonna work, Jimmy. I gotta leave in less than an hour. But I told you already yesterday that I probably won't have the time."

"Well," I said, trying not to let my disappointment show. "That's a pity. I'd really have loved to see you again." I almost added, "Because I miss you," but I swallowed that down.

"Hey, I'm sure the time will come when we're at the same time in the same city again," said Yves bracingly.

"Yeah, 'course," I agreed. "I was just thinking... I can hardly remember the way you are when you're normal; last time you were so drunk..."

"Well, now I'm normal," she said and laughed.

"Oh, great," I said, and laughed as well.

"Alright," Yves said. "Sorry I'm in such a hurry, but my client's coming back now. I'm sure we'll meet again, Jimmy."

I decided to take a brave step forward. "But, Yves... you're not avoiding me, are you?"

"No, of course not!" It almost sounded honest, and maybe it was, but I thought I could hear an ever so slight hesitation in her voice.

"Good," I said. "There wouldn't be a reason, you know."

"Sure," she said, and this time she definitely sounded honest. "Why should there be a reason? I mean, everything's alright, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes, sure," I said hastily, trying to keep my voice cheerful and confident. I hardly managed.

That's it, I thought. Either she has forgotten everything, or she wants to pretend it never happened. Whatever you want, Yves, I'll be fine with it. Gotta be, I reckon. As long as I'm not losing you.

"Well, Jimmy, how about we just talk again some time soon?" Yves said. "It's nice staying in touch with you."

"Glad to hear that," I said as charmingly as I could. "I'll call you again, you OK with that?"

"Sure." Yves said something to the other person in the room, then she turned her attention to me once again. "Listen, Jimmy, I really gotta stop now. There's a lot of stuff we still need to discuss here."

"Alright, Yves. See you some time soon. Take care."

"You too, Jimmy. Bye."

She hung up even before I could say "Bye" as well.

I placed the receiver back on the table and flopped on the bed. Staring at the ceiling, I tried to figure out what this all had meant. But my thoughts were going on a rollercoaster ride around my head, and only gradually did they settle down.

I wanted to cry. This was not what I had planned. I had planned to go for a drink with her, talk about this and that, and then somehow slip in the question that was burning in my mind. I had certainly not planned to talk to her on the phone for a few minutes, only to find out that she didn't have any time for me. I tried not to think that, no matter how much work Yves had to do, she would have found the time to meet me if she had really cared. And since she didn't have that time, there was only one conclusion I could draw: She didn't care.

How I wished this all had come to a different end!

I spent the last three days
Hovering on the edge of reason
Waiting for you to react
I tried so many ways
Not finding neither rhyme nor reason
Waiting for fear to attack

You pushed me over the edge
Confusing me, making me wonder
Making a fool of myself
My dumbness is making me retch
It's killing me, dragging me under
I wanna be someone else

I lost you, I know, and it cuts like a knife
You were almost a friend and a part of my life
I can't breathe, can't go on
Do you think I am strong?
Well, I'm telling you now I am not
I screwed up, I know, and it's not what I planned
How I wish it had come to a different end
I can't say it's alright
I have lost you, my light
And I'll never again hold you tight

I'll spend the rest of my time
Hovering on the edge of reason
Wondering what I did wrong
Did I commit a crime?
Asking if there had been a reason
I guess I just took too long

You pushed me over the edge
Breaking my heart without knowing
How can you be so blind?
This feeling I can't seem to catch
Why is it impossible showing
What took us so long to find?

I lost you, I know, and it cuts like a knife
How am I supposed to get on with my life
When you're no longer there?
Did you actually care
When your kisses spilled over my face?
I screwed up, I know, and you'll never come back
And the memory is like a noose 'round my neck
Claws of grief rip my heart
And they tear it apart
Leave my faith in love battered and scarred

I remember your words
But it aches and it hurts
Love is gentle, but me it deserts
How shall I ever know how it works?

End Note: And this is how the story ends. At least my story. But I won't leave you with this situation. Why should I have Jimmy suffer what I'm going through? I'm a nice person g. I'll put up another intermezzo and a third and maybe even a fourth chapter, bringing this soap opera to a decent end. Maybe it helps me as well... You never know!