Notes : Many many thanks to Gothic Spook and Stefany for reviewing. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy. :) Here's a little more. Oh yes, and before it goes on it might help to know I pictured this as being set sometime after The Truth. A few months, maybe.
Enjoy!
1:25 AM
Their footsteps echoed softly off the old brick buildings, some even not so old, that lined the deserted streets of D.C. The air was so velvety dense with all sorts of summer smells; rain and freshly cut grass, and quiet nighttime noises that you practically had to gulp it down.
John glanced over at Monica, whose gaze was cast upwards into the black sky. Her expression was almost unreadable, save the fact it was obvious that she was deep in thought.
"John, do you ever think that Mulder and Scully, everyone involved with the conspiracy, could be right? About this extraterrestrial life, I mean."
"All that about little green men from up there?" He jutted a finger towards the sky and let out a sigh. "I don't know, Mon. I'm not like them. I can't think like that. You know I can't."
"So that's a no?"
"I'm not sayin' I don't think about it."
"So you do?"
"Do what?"
"Think about it?"
A pause. "Yeah. All the time."
Another pause. "Me too."
She looked over with a small smile. "I mean," she began again, starting to use her hands to talk as she always did when she had a point to express, "who says there isn't a whole other world of beings out there just like us, who breathe and feel love and pain just as we do? Who can ever say for sure?"
"We haven't even figured out why we feel love and pain and the things we do. Guess it'd sure be nice to know we're not alone on that, huh?" He laughed softly.
"You're not alone on that, John."
He looked over and met her eyes. For a fleeting moment he saw something inside of them that made his heart ache, and then it was gone.
1:34 AM
"So which comic book character did you identify with when you were a kid?"
"Excuse me?"
"You know, Spiderman, Superman, the X-Men. Every kid had a comic book character hero. Who was yours?"
John laughed and looked over at his partner with a half amused, half puzzled expression. Something he had come to learn about knowing Monica these past nine years, and especially in this last year, was to just grasp whatever was closest hold on tight. She had a way of coming up with either the most ludicrous or most brilliant scenarios and ideas, which either made her seem entirely proficient or totally out of her mind.
But she also had a way of making him want to tell her things, to open up. Her eyes said something about her; that she was completely compassionate.
"I guess I liked Batman."
"And what made you relate to him more than those other hunky, Kryptonite-consuming super heroes?"
"He was a guy that everyone counted on and loved and admired. All those people in Gotham knew he'd never leave 'em, and he did whatever he could to save whoever needed savin' 'cause he was cursed. Watched his parents die when he was young. Not every kid could relate with that directly but they sure know the meaning of tragedy. Guess I liked him 'cause he had no real weaknesses, just a wounded past that never quite healed."
John looked over at his partner who was looking back, those sympathetic brown eyes melting into his, knowing what he was thinking.
He suddenly felt her warm hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.
"You're like him more than you know."
She let his hand go, and they walked along in silence for a while.
"What about you?" John asked suddenly, looking over at her again.
"What about me?"
"Who did you identify with when you were a kid?"
She laughed. "Oh I don't know...I always kinda liked Rogue from the X-Men."
"What, no Catwoman? You seem like a Catwoman to me," he added, knowing now that she had started laughing, he could always get her to laugh harder.
"No, no Catwoman. Too evil for my taste."
"What about all that tight black leather? You could pull it off nicely," he joked.
She gave his arm a playful punch and they kept walking, their laughter filling up the empty streets.