Title : Small white comfort

Author : Kelly Moreland

Archive :Anywhere, just let me know.

Spoilers : Requiem

Rating : G

Category : V

Summary : Neatly folded, and tucked away on his bookshelf, was a
letter with no date.

Feedback :  k_a_moreland@hotmail.com

Disclaimer : In the big inning, CC *created* M & S, and the
fans saw that it was good. Then CC proclaimed 'Let them have
any fun, and I will sue you!' And the fans saw that this was
bad, and did it anyway. ;-)

Authors note :



During the third month of his absence she found it. She'd gone
over to dust his apartment and feed the fish. It was more of a
comfort gesture to her than a real necessity.


Neatly folded and tucked away on his bookshelf, was a letter
with no date. She couldn't resist opening it, even though she
knew it was an invasion of privacy.



Scully,

I don't know how much longer we can keep doing this, it gets
harder and harder each time. Staring death in the face is
not all it's cracked up to be.

At some time in your thirties, you get a sense of your own
mortality. The feeling of invulnerability, that has pervaded
all through your twenties, slips away some dark night and you
wake with the realization that you *are* human. That one day you
will die.

And suddenly rushing the process seems like a really bad
idea.

Then as you edge closer to the big four oh, you realize that
the scales have shifted. The scale of life and memories.
When you're first born; you have no memories and your whole
life ahead of you, but each day the scales change. Until one
day all you have is memories, but no time left to make new ones.

And there is no going back. The old cliche -it's never too
late- is wrong. In one second it can be too late. In one
second, it can all be over.

So I decided I need to tell you a few things before it was
too late. Problem is; I'm too craven to say them face to
face. That's what I'm trying to do here. As much as I love
to look into your eyes when we talk, I can't right now. Not
while I'm saying this.

Here goes.

I cherish the day I met you. It changed my life. Because I was
drowning and didn't even know it. Drowning in my own obsessions,
but at some point you saved me. You became my life-line. You gave
me hope.

Anytime I've fallen, you've picked me up, dusted me off, and
put me back on track. Gave me a good kick in the ass when I
needed it too. But I was wrong when I said you were my
touchstone. It doesn't even come close to describing what
you are to me. For that, there are no words. Just like what
I feel for you. There are no words for that either. Maybe we
should invent our own language.

I want you to know how much I love you. Even though the
words are a hollow echo of what I actually feel.

I wanted to say it once more, before it was too late. Maybe
you'll believe me this time.

I love you.

M.


She did nothing to stop the tears that streamed down her cheeks
in the late afternoon sun. She folded the paper back into its
neat square and placed it, ever so gently in her coat pocket;
amazed at how a simple piece of paper could fill such an aching,
empty void.


Fini~