Title: Star 
Author: bardsmaid 
Author Email: bardsmaid@imagesmithstudio.com 
Status: NEW - Standalone 
Size: 0k 
Rating: PG 
Archive at Gossamer: Yes to Gossamer/Ephemeral 
Category: Vignette 
Spoilers: Herrenvolk 

Summary: Christmas. She can feel more than see it: a warm place, a
tree brought in from the outdoors, a boy.
 
Part 1
Please see part 0 (template) for warnings and summary.

TITLE:  Star
AUTHOR: bardsmaid 
E-Mail: bardsmaid@imagesmithstudio.com
DISTRIBUTION: Yes, but please let me know where
SPOILERS:  Herrenvolk
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: Christmas vignette
DISCLAIMER: The X-Files characters are the 
creations of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions; 
no infringement is intended.
SUMMARY:  She can feel more than see it: a warm 
place, a tree brought in from the outdoors, a 
boy. 
..
STAR

She stirs and, rolling over, sees the star 
suspended in the blue-blackness of Alberta's 
night.  It is larger than the rest, brighter, 
and somehow it reminds her of...

Of something.  

Her eyes close momentarily.  She squeezes 
against her thick mind, seeking focus, but no 
clear image comes.  One hand slips from the 
warmth of the blankets as if drawn; she places 
the pad of a finger against the icy glass.  
Small, soft puffs of breath cloud the space in 
front of her.

Finally it comes, like a shadowed form just out 
of view that will evaporate if faced.  She can 
feel more than see it: a warm place, red and 
silver and green ribbons, a tree brought in from 
the outdoors.  The heat of a fireplace warms the 
memory of cheeks and fingers; she hears muffled, 
smiling voices.  Sees a boy.

A different boy, not like the ones she knows: 
the boy who bunks below her, the one in the next 
house, the many who work in the fields.  

For a moment he stares at her, this curious boy 
with the brown hair.  Her finger starts to move 
against the cold glass, tracing small, automatic 
patterns.

Eventually her hand slips back into the blanket.  
She shivers, crosses her arms and tucks her 
frozen fingers into the warmth of her armpits.

When the light-haired boy shakes her at dawn, 
she wakes immediately and gets up as she always 
does, automatically, pulling on her clothes 
quickly, braiding her hair and then reaching for 
her bucket.  As she follows the boy out the 
door, she pauses for a moment.  Looks back.

Her eye lights on the windowpane and she scowls 
momentarily at the strange glyphs traced there 
until, drawn by instinct, she hurries out to 
start the day.

Months later, a drifter passing through the now-
empty complex happens upon the little cabin.  As 
he looks around the bedroom, the sunset's glow 
highlights two smudged words on the glass.  
'MERRI' reads one that stair-steps its way up 
the cool pane.  The other, at some little 
distance, reads 'FoX'.

(end) 



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