A/N: Hey y'all! They're back :)
Her body felt sticky with sweat. She unlaced the ballet shoes from her feet and gave them a rub. She sighed and looked around her small room.
"Léonie!" her name was called as two of her fellow dancers burst into her room.
"What are you doing!" the black-haired one exclaimed. "The stage manager has been looking for you!"
"I hear that they are going to give you a line in next week's performance," the blonde girl said excitedly.
"Or they may let you sing in the chorus!" the first girl added.
"Why?" she simply asked.
"I hear it's because one of the patrons has taken a liking to you," the blonde said, nudging her with her elbow.
"What?! No," she said, slightly shocked.
"You are a pretty girl."
"And you look... interesting."
The girls were giving her their version of compliments.
"Besides, all that matters is that you may have a rich patron! Think of the things you could buy!" the blonde told her, with a dreamy look in her eyes.
"I don't want a rich patron."
"Ugh! Léonie, it's that detective, isn't it?" the black-haired girl asked, slightly exasperated.
"He doesn't have any money!" the blonde told her before she could respond.
She shrugged. "I don't care."
The girls stared at her in confusion.
"And besides, he will have money someday. He's really good at what he does, and his boss has already promoted him twice," she added, defending the man with whom she was in love.
"Léonie," the blonde began, taking her hands, "I know that you feel like you love this man, but do you know if he loves you? And, while you're trapped behind these walls, how do you know he doesn't already have someone else?"
"Someone whose dream isn't to dance, act, or sing. Someone who will be out there with him. And that's not you. Would you give up your dream to be with him? Just think about that," the other girl added.
"We want you to be happy, but we also want you to be realistic."
"Do you want a man who you know you could love, but you would have give up your dreams for him? Or do you want a man who can give you your dreams, and maybe you would love him? Think logically, Léonie. Think about what you really want. What's important."
"I have to go see the stage manager," she told them, standing up.
She made her way through the dimly lit hallways and stairwells. She knocked on the wooden door and waited. A friendly looking man pulled back the door and beckoned her in.
"Have a seat, mademoiselle."
"Thank you," she whispered demurely.
"I have some wonderful news for you, Léonie. You will be on stage more frequently. Starting tomorrow, besides dancing, you will also join the chorus, and next week, I may even let you have a line of dialogue or two."
"Thank you, monsieur. To what do I owe this great fortune?" she asked, curious but prying.
"You have been working very hard, Léonie, to be the best. I am happy to reward your accomplishments. However, I would not be telling you the whole truth if I didn't also add that some of our more prestigious patrons have mentioned wanting to see more of you. I am also telling you this not because I want you to feel any added pressure, but I do want you to know that many are expecting you to put out a great performance."
"I will, monsieur," was all that she found she could say at the moment.
"And don't let any of those other girls give you a hard time. I'm sure they will just be jealous, so don't listen to a word they say!" he gave her friendly advice.
She smiled and nodded.
"Off you go, then. You must get enough sleep tonight. You will have a long day tomorrow!"
She made her trip back to her room. She settled onto her bed. She laid on her stomach and reached under the bed, pulling out a simple wooden box. She opened it and dumped the contents into her lap. Letters. There were tons of them! She began to read through some of them. Some were typical correspondence letters, some were letters of confessing love, and others, her favorite, were poems. She stared at the small pile. She had two dreams in life. Which one to choose?
***
"Scully," she heard a voice whisper, and a strong hand gently shook her. "Time to get up."
She blinked her eyes a few times to get used to the light. She looked up at Mulder, who was fully dressed and standing over her.
"What time is it?" she finally asked, stretching her small body as long as it would go.
"A little after 9."
"What?!" she said, sitting straight up in bed. "Why didn't you wake me up earlier?"
Mulder shrugged. "Seemed like you needed the sleep."
"Ugh!" she groaned, mostly at herself, and flopped back down, covering her face with a pillow.
"You don't have to go, you know?" he told her softly.
"I'm going." Scully removed the pillow from her face. "Why do you all of the sudden want to go off without me? I thought that you were 'uncomfortable' with leaving me on my own?"
Mulder took a seat on the bed, facing her.
"I am, but I don't see the point in you torturing yourself over seeing the body and crime scene and thinking that you could have done something to prevent it because you couldn't have," he told her seriously. "And they do need someone to help, so I offered, and they accepted."
"You don't want me to go, do you?" she asked, looking at him.
"Not really," he answered honestly.
"Fine! I won't go," she conceded, sitting up again.
"Good," he said, standing up. "I don't want you to leave this room. And no one but me comes in!"
"No! I will not be banished to the motel room! I'm going to go outside be around a lot of people. I think that it's safer that way."
He thought about that for a second. "Okay. You have a point."
Scully smiled triumphantly.
"Let's meet at the diner around 1 for lunch. That way I won't have to try to track you down."
"Deal," she said, happy that she didn't have to stay inside all day.
"Okay, well, I'm gonna go. Be safe."
Mulder stood there silent for a second. Scully wondered what the heck he was doing. He awkwardly leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He gave her a faint smile and left the room. She could hear the door to the motel room close.
He's so weird... she thought.