TITLE: "New Year's Eve" AUTHOR: Char Chaffin CATEGORY: Vignette, Mulder POV, Angst RATING: PG SPOILERS: Nope ARCHIVE: Sure! Just let me know! DISCLAIMER: They're not mine! FEEDBACK: Yes, please... I live for it! SUMMARY: Nearly-midnight on New Year's Eve is not the best time to come to your senses... AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thinking about the possibilities of the recently-discussed, upcoming New Year's Eve scene between Moose and Squirrel got me a-pondering... very dangerous late at night when I have been eating chocolate! "New Year's Eve" I had never seen the tender curve of her neck before tonight... even though I have been near her many times, when she pulled her hair up, on top of her head... but I had never seen her, in quite that way. I had never noticed the way her eyes took on every shade of blue, from sky to midnight, before now... even though she has worn this dress before, and stood right in front of me... but I had never noticed. I had never counted the many different strands of silk on her head, each a slightly different color than its mate, which serves to set her hair aflame in the sunlight... even though I have stood beside her in the brightness of many days... but I had never counted. I had never felt the baby softness of her skin, so velvety perfect everywhere, from her rounded shoulders to her small ankles... even though I have undressed her in times of illness, of emergency, as befits a good partner... but I had never felt it, not like that. I had never experienced the touch of her lips on me, those full rosy lips, which hold a promise of heat and of every fantasy fulfilled... even though she has touched me with those lips, in several different ways... but I had never experienced it. I had never heard the lilt of her sweet voice, the low vibration of it, settling in my system, stronger than a drug... had never heard it quite like this, up against my ear with words I could scarcely believe coming from her throat... words I never thought she would ever say to me. All that she is, the very essence of her; what she has always been, but I had never noticed her, felt her, in quite that way... perhaps I'd been deluding myself; perhaps I was not meant, until this very moment in my knowing of her, to see her in this light. I may have not been ready to accept the responsibility of knowing her, of knowing this side of her; the angle of the sun on her shining hair not yet aligned just so; the small curve of her upper lip not yet prepared to receive a kiss of any magnitude, from me... the blue of her dress not yet revealing its mirrored hue in those lovely eyes, which finally look upon me with something more substantial than just friendship and vague affection. And I can only marvel at my comprehensive blindness, all these years; of not seeing her, really seeing her as anything more than a partner, even though in my heart I knew it was so much more; of not acting upon whatever prickle of wanting and of desire I may have experienced, when I gazed at her or spoke to her about such mundane topics, when I should have just been on my knees begging her to love me... and the wasted days and months and years of postponing the inevitable - the ultimate downfall of my heart. I would give up the most vital aspects of my life, to be able to act upon that awareness, right now... for she stands before me, clad in blue; a fiery-haired vision with eyes reflecting each glittery shimmer in her dress; dewy rose-petal skin and lips so pinkly sweet no lipstick could do them justice; skin softer than a sigh, and tender nape revealed by the upswept, flaming hair pinned on top of her head. Too lovely to be real, but she is... as real as the man who stands next to her, arm around her, face turned to her and smiling at her; who invades her deepest personal space and seems so much an extension of her body, so close they stand beside each other. Flakes of confetti litter his black hair; more flakes reside in a puddle at their feet. Somewhere in my addled brain, I hear the voice, across the room, counting backwards; it seems as though the numbers are mocking me; suddenly I wish that turning back the hands of time could be as simple as counting numbers backwards. If it was as easy as that... then perhaps I could take both of us back several months ago... before she gave up on me - gave up on the hope that I would ever declare myself to her... gave up on the need to hear me tell her of my trust, and make her believe in my love for her... Before she decided to go out into the world and get a real life, with a man who could give her what I am only now beginning to realize I have in abundance, for her - but it's too late. The glitter of the ring on her left hand tells me, mockingly, just how late it is, for me. The voice, still counting backwards, repeats the refrain; one I have heard before and I am sure will always remind me of what I never noticed... until now: "Five... Four... Three... Two... ONE...! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" Happy New Year, Scully. End Feedback is treasured and hand-fed chocolate truffles at: fncbc@uaf.edu, and char@chaffin.com Please visit my web site at: http://char.chaffin.com