Title: Precious Little Things Author: Creyente written: October 11, 1998 Rating: PG Spoilers: "Christmas Carol" and "Emily" Archiving: Please DO NOT post to ATXC or Gossamer. Anywhere else, just email me, I'd be thrilled to see it somewhere. :) Category: V, A Disclaimer: Wish they were mine, they're not, so I'm still not rich and Carter is. Life's a bitch, huh? ;) And yes, I blatantly stole my title from Sarah McLachlan's "Wait", but I love her so much, I don't think she'll mind. It fit very well. :::shrugs::: Summary: The realization that all you really want sometimes are those precious little things. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* "I saw the dreams you never thought you'd lose Tossed along the way" Goo Goo Dolls, "Name" Coarse sand skittered under her black pumps, rasping against the sole of her shoe as the swing took her forward again. She sat quietly, slightly moving the swing and gently clasping the cool metal chains. She was out of place here in her Armani suit and black pumps. She stuck out, did not belong. Around her, toddlers chased one another through the sand, and school-age children engaged in a game of hide-and-seek. A slight breeze stirred her hair, bringing the scent of autumn and sand and new lumber to her nose. She inhaled deeply, shutting her eyes for a moment. "I got you, Suzie!" one small, chestnut-haired boy yelled in delight. "Did not!" Suzie yelled back. Two blonde girls and a redhead boy gathered around the two to witness the playground ritual. "Did so! I touched your braid! You're it!" He stood in front of her, begging for her next rebuttal. "You're a big fat loser, Thomas Raybold," Suzie proclaimed. And with that, she threw herself into the group of children, scattering them in a chorus of sheiks and laughter. Scully allowed a slight smile to touch her lips, remembering similar "battles" with her brothers and Melissa as a child. Across the playground, a young mother called for her daughter. Though of nearly the same age and build, she was Scully's antithesis. She was clad in dark jeans and a warm cable knit sweater. Sensible sneakers for playtime. Her makeup was natural and young looking. She smiled openly and laughed at her daughter's antics. While Scully only sat alone, begging no one's attention yet erecting an effective fortress with her clothing and demeanor. The woman's daughter came to her soon, whining about leaving so soon. "Come on, Kath, I'll take you for some ice cream before we go home." The child's face lit up with delight, and she jumped into her mother's arms. Scully watched the two, not with wistfulness but with an almost reverence. This was what she had, so briefly. This was what she had lost. She longed to be like that young mother, happy, carefree, satisfied knowing that her child was happy. She could have had this in her small blonde wonder. Her Emily. She sighed quietly, almost subconsciously. She hadn't meant to come to the playground, only to stop at the corner store. Away from home here, on a case in a small town, she had felt like exploring. Something had drawn her to the park, and she had sat alone on the swing set, hypnotized by the children and their play. To be so carefree, to know that someone was watching over you and keeping you safe. She longed for that feeling. She wanted only simple things, the only things that she was denied. To take her daughter for ice cream before dinnertime. To hold her hand and swing her on the swing set. To watch her stand up to a playmate and call him "a big fat loser". She smiled at the last one, knowing, somehow, that Emily would have had the same spunk of the Scully women before her. Two hours she had sat on this lonely swing, and not one child had come to sit on the swing beside her. Not one parent had questioned her presence. The rest of the world seemed to recognize, somehow, that this was some sort of ritual, something that they were to leave untouched. Her dark clothing and downcast expression kept others away. She sat quietly, solemnly, unspeaking. Those who passed her would remember her image for a long time. She seemed to send a silent signal to those who came near, one of loss and pain. As the young mother crossed the park with her daughter's hand in hers, she shivered. Looking up, she saw Scully. She stopped for a moment, first looking concerned, then looking slightly frightened. Her daughter tugged insistently on her hand. "Let's go, Mommy." The mother glanced down. "Ok, sweetheart." She clasped her daughter's hand more tightly and hurried past Scully. Fiery leaves swirled through the playground. Sun was setting now, and there was a slight chill to the air. Slowly, one by one, the children abandoned their play. Parents' voices would call out that it was time for dinner or homework. Scully thought, sometimes, that she would like to go back, and to relive the time in her life when her biggest worries were homework and what to wear to school the next day. A time when Santa Claus was real, when ghosts really did come out at Halloween, and when the sound you heard in a seashell was not the blood in your ears, but the untamed ocean waves. She could have had that again, through her daughter. To watch her grow would have been her joy. But she would have, as she had, lost her innocence along the way. She wondered if it were almost better that the daughter she barely knew had never known of the horrors of the world, had never doubted in Santa. She had had a short, confusing, and unfair life. Yet through it all, she remained innocent. Scully didn't know how long she had sat on that swing, only that it was dark now, and the moon was on the rise. The metal chains against her palms were cool, and the park was now abandoned. She sensed him before she saw him, feeling his silent regard as though it were a tangible entity. He watched her quietly from a few feet behind her, his arms crossed loosely. She did not turn to meet his gaze or acknowledge his presence, but he felt a subtle change in her that told him that she felt and accepted his presence. He walked to her quietly and slowly, and for the first time that day, someone sat on the swing beside her. Familiarity met her fingertips as he slid his hand gently over hers, clasping it gently and with understanding. She finally met his eye as she slid her fingers further into his hand and smiled slightly. He nodded his understanding, and she looked back down to her feet. They sat in silence together, outsiders in this child-world, reaching together for the intangible and watching the harvest moon rise over silvery-golden trees, the only sounds those of the leaves and the squeak of a slightly rusty swing set. The End *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Annie, I love you, my dearest friend in life. You know this stuff is *always* for you. But this one's also for Kaitlyn, Brianna, and Liam, for reminding me what it is to be innocent, and that sometimes one has to take a step back to go forward. Oh, God of Feedback, be gentle with me. If you would bestow upon me even a smattering of feedback, I would be eternally grateful. Oh, wise Feedback God, please deem me worthy of your gifts. Creyente@aol.com, guys. Tongue firmly in cheek. Author's note: This came from taking my baby sister Kait and two of her friends to the park a couple of weeks ago. I've been really stressed out lately, and it was just an experience to watch them play, and to remember what it was like to not have a care in the world. My advice to everyone is this: spend one day of your life as a child again. Put away the bills and the work and everything else, just for one day, and watch the Saturday morning cartoons in your pajamas, eat ice cream for breakfast, get dirty in the back yard, paint something with those cheap watercolors, and play video games until way past your bed time. :) It'll do wonders for you. Kristin