3: The Truth or a White Whale
TITLE: The Truth or a White Whale
AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: The Truth
RATING: PG
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Mulder/Scully
WORD COUNT: 218
DISCLAIMER: I'm not making any money off these.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is drabble number 3 based on the prompt 'Christmas'. Originally written for and posted at Inkstains Plus.
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The morning of the first Christmas they spend together on the run, she wakes in yet another motel room and watches the limp light fall through the cracks in the blinds.
December 25th. The date used to mean something to her, before (she has divided their time into before and after. She thinks it makes it easier, somehow, quantify their time this way). December 25th, before, was family and laughter. It was the birth of Christ and hope for her sins. Now it is another date in the calendar, a meaningless day; a day with no family, no laughter, no joy. Simply her and him, and no more words to say to each other.
She rolls over, willing sleep; a few hours more where she can dream that things are different. Instead, a battered copy of Moby Dick lies on the bed where she expected to see him. Its pages are worn and well thumbed and the inscription, when she turns the cover, almost makes her forget the things she has lost.
Starbuck,
". . . because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself."
I don't exist without you.
- Your Ahab
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AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: The Truth
RATING: PG
CHARACTER/PAIRING: Mulder/Scully
WORD COUNT: 218
DISCLAIMER: I'm not making any money off these.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is drabble number 3 based on the prompt 'Christmas'. Originally written for and posted at Inkstains Plus.
___________________________________
The morning of the first Christmas they spend together on the run, she wakes in yet another motel room and watches the limp light fall through the cracks in the blinds.
December 25th. The date used to mean something to her, before (she has divided their time into before and after. She thinks it makes it easier, somehow, quantify their time this way). December 25th, before, was family and laughter. It was the birth of Christ and hope for her sins. Now it is another date in the calendar, a meaningless day; a day with no family, no laughter, no joy. Simply her and him, and no more words to say to each other.
She rolls over, willing sleep; a few hours more where she can dream that things are different. Instead, a battered copy of Moby Dick lies on the bed where she expected to see him. Its pages are worn and well thumbed and the inscription, when she turns the cover, almost makes her forget the things she has lost.
Starbuck,
". . . because truly to enjoy bodily warmth, some small part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. Nothing exists in itself."
I don't exist without you.
- Your Ahab
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