She is His


Fandom: The X-Files
She is His PenName: Reality
Character(s): Skinner
Rating: G
Summary: Skinner reflects on Mulder and Scully’s relationship.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created by the wonderfully talented Chris Carter.

She is his…

Though I wish she were mine. He laughs with her and she laughs with him at those times that are uniquely thiers. They sit close, share private jokes. I should be happy for them, but all I can do is wish it were me. You cannot meet her and not be amazed by her intellect, struck by her beauty, captivated by her strength. But she is not mine, she is his. She has defied me for him, fought me for him, and he has done the same. What have I done? Sometimes I wish to be struck by something, some disease, some accident, something that would lend me her beside manner for a moment. And though I do not wish to see that brow wrinkle with concern, to see her full of worry, it’s the only time I feel equal to him in her eyes.

But even that is not true, even then I’m not equal. I know that my pain only receives her sympathy, she feels his pain as if it were her own. I am ashamed to admit I hoped she would leave him, walk away from that crazy life he leads and seek the warm comfort and stability of me. But she likes his journey, she is his journey. I am stacks of paperwork and boring meetings. They have shared late nights in hotel rooms—I dare not speculate on what has happened there– for I am in most cases the office argument before or after. I love her because she’s unique in both brilliance and beauty, I dare find one who equals her in both. She is like the sun, and I know if I get to close that she will burn me. So I try to forget her and what she means to him, what they mean to each other. I understand he loves her and he’s lucky enough for her to love him back.

Still, I don’t think he understands her love for him the way I do. He has no reason to analyze and evaluate her actions, because he is with her, he is her. They are one another and I am the other. I sit at meetings and watch them speak with their eyes and make love with their eyes, and I am jealous of that connection. Is it her I want then, or do I just want to connect with anyone. No, she is rare, there aren’t many like her and those who gain her love are lucky. Does he realize that? They both seem like they can’t see what I can, what I fear will cause me to turn on them one day in a jealous rage. Perhaps I have already in certain ways. In a way, I consider both of them friends. But I know I cannot compete with that which belongs to the two of them. Nothing I could ever give her could compare to one single sunflower seed from him. Her “Sirs” to me aren’t even as soft as the way she says “Mulder”. Say “Skinner” or “Walter” that way once and I will die a happy man. But I can’t tell you these things as you walk out the meeting with him, the one you love, the one you always will. I then head back to my big, empty office knowing his small little hole in the wall is filled with you.

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