AUTHOR: Audrey Roget
E-MAIL: audrey_roget@yahoo.com
RATING: G
CLASSIFICATION: Vignettes
SPOILERS: Vague to non-existent
FEEDBACK: adored
ARCHIVING: Ephemeral/Gossamer; others, give a courtesy call please

Written in response to a Why-Incision first-line challenge

Untitled No. 1

He had never been so terrified in his life as he stared into the
menacing eyes of the clown.

Not that, at eight years old, he had had that many truly terrifying
experiences. Oh sure, there had been his first trip to the dentist, the
day before he started Kindergarten. But his big sister Jenny, who'd
warned him to watch out for the long silver tool with the hook on the
end of it, never even mentioned the happy air or the nice music Dr.
Gardner played in her office. Besides he had been just a kid then. And
true, he'd experienced pure panic on that camping trip last spring,
when, in the middle of the night, he didn't quite make it out of his
sleeping bag and into the bushes in time...but he didn't like to think
about that. But *not* because it scared him. The clown, though   the
clown would make even Scout Master Skinner pee his pants.

###

Untitled No. 2

Years later, when she found the letter, her hands shook as she opened
it. 

"Dear Dana," it read.

She wasn't sure whether to go on. The author was so dear, and so
recently lost to her. She shut her eyes hard and held them there,
calling up a more youthful vision of his handsome features. 

Sighing, she began to re-fold the brittle, yellowing sheet of Bureau
stationery. There was no reason to go on, really, except curiosity.
Whatever followed would not come as news, of that she was sure. Yet,
almost without willing it, her hands halted and reversed. May as well
have confirmation and be done with it.

"I know I pretty much never called you that out loud. But I thought it
to myself whenever I saw you. We were put together under difficult
circumstances, and I don't think you wanted me there anymore than I
wanted to be there, but that's how things go sometimes. You resented
the hell out of me at first, and even though after awhile you started
to let me in, I always figured that one day I'd have to get up out of
bed knowing I'd probably never see you again. And now it's happened. 

I wonder where you are, what your life is like now. These last months,
I've been grinding out the days, just trying to get through them one at
a time. The things I learned - while we were a team and just since
you've been gone - have changed the way I look at the world. It's like
an iron door has slammed down behind me and I can't ever go back. I
wish I'd been able to say this before it was too late: I get it now. I
get you. All the mystery is gone, and god help me if I don't want you
even more. But we both know that's never going to happen - and don't
think I don't hate myself for all the times I'd wished that it could. 

Even if I had a way to get this to you, I wouldn't. And if I ever do
see you again, there's no way in hell I'll say these things to your
face. It's just not like that with us. But know this: Scully was never
my name for you. Not on the inside anyway.

Love,
John" 

Monica swallowed around the lump in her throat and released the leaf of
paper from her fingers, watching it slide silently into the blaze and
catch.

###