A LIFE, FAR FROM THE MADDING CROWD

By Char Chaffin

Category: MSR, Vignette

Rating: PG

Spoilers: After Season Nine

Disclaimers: Mine to Clone, only

DEDICATION: Our Miss Crystal is having a birthday today - Happy

Birthday, Sweet One!

NOTE: Because of all the enthusiasm concerning my story "The

Hitcher" and its sequel, "Small-Town Man", with readers wanting to

know what else happens in this particular universe... I have decided

to make this a little series. This installment actually is set

between those first two stories, a prequel to "Small-Town Man". It

would definitely make more sense if you have at least read that one

first.

Thanks to Tess, for beta, late night hand holding, general

cheerleading and for just BEING!

Summary: Far from the Madding crowd - more than what it seems to

be...

"A Life, Far From the Madding Crowd"

They've been driving for hours and it's raining again. But this

time, the rain doesn't depress him. This time, he's not traveling in

it by himself.

Funny how the dreary things in life can seem bright, when the right

set of circumstances are involved; the right people.

His people.

In the back seat Kevin dozes, occasionally emitting a little

snuffle. He's just getting over a cold, and of course they didn't

want to travel while he was sick. But there was an urgency, this

time - there was a need to leave, quickly. Oh, it was nothing overt.

Nothing they read in the news or heard on the radio or the

television. They didn't get a letter or an email. It was a feeling,

just an awareness. But it was enough.

They terminated the lease on their little house and packed

everything up. Since the place they'd called home for almost two

years had been mostly furnished, they'd had amazingly little to call

their own. Clothes. Some toys and games. Photo albums and some

kitchen gear.

Nothing much, yet it was all they had. It was packed carefully and

stored in the U-Haul trailer they were renting.

They left on a Monday evening, when the roads were fairly deserted. At

first they concentrated on driving out of the city, unsure of

exactly where they needed to go. Again, that feeling... that when

they were headed in the right direction somehow they'd know. In

silence they traveled south, the only surety for them, so far. South

seemed like the right thing to do.

**********************

She refills his coffee mug often, to help keep him awake. It's

probably unnecessary, since he's been wired for over a week. If he

tried to sleep right now there isn't a way in hell he could even

begin to close his eyes. She's in roughly the same condition.

Against a backdrop of soft music coming from a Bangor station, they

let the silence engulf them. It feels fine, not uncomfortable in the

least. Her hand rests on his thigh and she sits close to him, her

head touching lightly against his shoulder. Every so often she

glances behind her to check on Kevin, still curled up on the back

seat of the car. Their son clutches his blanket and his ratty old

stuffed giraffe. He's had the toy for several years and he refuses

to give it up. Even in his sleep he holds it tightly, afraid perhaps

that it would gallop off into the rainy night if he let go.

The thought makes her smile, and right then and there she jots a

mental note to find him a new giraffe, someday soon.

"What're you smiling at?" The raspy voice makes her start a little,

and she turns the smile on her husband, squeezing his leg a bit,

surprised he can see her face in the dim interior.

"I was thinking that Kevin needs a new giraffe - if we can find one."

Frank nods as he takes another swig of lukewarm coffee. "We'll find

one, somewhere." And she smiles again, for she knows when Frank

makes a promise he always follows through.

Always.

************************

She'd been in the kitchen, sitting at the counter and paying bills,

when he came home from the store and announced, "We need to move,

June."

Her head snapped up and she'd stared at him through narrowed,

worried eyes, wondering if he'd heard something in town - seen

something. She'd murmured to him her wondering and he'd shaken his

head. "No, nothing like that. It's just a feeling, but it's strong

enough to cause me worry. I think we should go. Within the next few

weeks."

June nodded and stood up, walked over to him - wrapped her arms

around him - held him close. Her head tucked quite nicely right

underneath his chin and her ear pressed over his beating heart; she

took comfort as always, from that steady and vital thump. They

remained locked in that embrace for long minutes, not speaking,

not doing more than just holding. Finally June looked up into his

tired face and queried, "Okay. Where?"

Frank had felt such a surge of love and pride when she agreed so

readily. No questions asked, just pure trust. So much that it made

him ache...

He'd snuggled her closer and dropped a kiss on her silky hair, still

a bit startled to find blonde locks underneath his mouth, instead of

red. He mumbled a soft, "I don't know, baby. Someplace small, I

guess. Off the beaten track. Far from the madding crowd..." He

grinned down at her reassuringly.

June managed a small grin herself, and pressed her face into his

chest, thinking of some of the places they'd driven through, when

they'd first come north almost two years ago. They'd taken a lot of

back roads, on purpose; at the time it seemed silly but now she was

glad they'd done so - and equally glad they'd made so many stops

along the way when they saw a place that struck their fancy. It

really didn't matter where, as long as they kept their family

together, and safe. She kissed the pulse beating strongly in his

neck; held him tightly.

When the time came, and they were driving... their future home would

reveal itself to them. She knew it. She was counting on it.

***********************

In a locked strongbox buried in the little U-Haul trailer, their new

lives are stacked neatly. Birth certificates, school records, medical

records... tax paperwork. Everything they needed to start a new life,

two years ago when they first began moving around. They'd embraced

this new life, along with their new names. It was hard at first - to

remember to call her June; to not stare at the changes she'd wrought

in herself. First, the blonde hair. She let her curls grow out and

she'd awoken on a Saturday as a redhead and gone to bed that night a

blonde.

Simple as that.

The other, significant change took months, but was well worth it...

she'd gained thirty pounds. It hadn't been easy; never a big eater,

she now had to force food down, several meals a day. But the changes

in her appearance were dramatic, the added weight shifting the

contours of her face, making her look softer and younger. She hadn't

wanted to do it, was afraid it would alter his feelings for her.

And it had altered them, quite a bit. Her added curves and body

bulk turned him on, immensely. She looked lush, earthy, more

beautiful than ever. When he told this to her, she blushed and

informed him he was nuts. Of course, then he had to prove it to

her... and he kept her up half the night, doing just that. In the

morning she donned a turtleneck sweater to hide the marks he'd left

on her neck. Throughout the day she'd touch them, and smile to

herself... remembering the way he'd convinced her.

They lived far north of Bangor for almost two years. In that time

frame he'd gone completely gray. Part of his transformation was

natural and the rest came from a bottle. And as June's alterations

had nearly disguised her completely, so a head of gray hair had

done, for him. Well, that, and the change in his face...

"I can't hit you, Frank! You're nuts!" She'd faced him down, arms

crossed in front of her. Kevin, barely three and sitting at the

table eating lunch, had watched them curiously.

"You have to. If you don't break it then the surgeon won't be as

inclined to change the shape. You know that." He'd been resolute.

June shook her head and refused to budge.

"I'm NOT going to hit you. Forget it. If you think you have to

change your nose you're going to have to run yourself into a door.

Hard. I won't take the responsibility of hurting you, even for the

better good, Frank... I can't."

No sooner had she mentioned running into a door, than his eyes had

lit up. With a gleeful, "Why didn't I think of that!" - he ran full-

tilt at the back door, flinging his arms aside, letting his entire

body smack into it. She never had time to stop him - he crashed

hard, the impact bouncing him to the floor. She gasped and flew to

his side, bending over him. His face was a mess, the nose smashed

flat, cheeks already starting to redden with bruises.

He'd knocked himself out, cold... with an exasperated expletive June

had called for an ambulance, then tried not to panic all the way to

the hospital. Their first opportunity to see if their new identities

held...

A week later Frank had a new nose. Combined with his silvery hair the

change was complete. And their new identities were a rousing success.

*******************

"Simmons, Vermont."

"Where on earth did you come up with that, Frank? I've never heard

of it."

He smiled at her over his ham sandwich; they were parked at a pull

off near Lewiston and almost finished with a very late dinner. He

wiped mustard off his lip and explained, "When we drove up here. I

remember a sign for a place called Simmons. We were up in the

mountains, that one scenic route, remember?" She nodded, and he

smiled again. "Well, for some reason it just came to mind. We'll

check the atlas but I've got a feeling it's not on the map - and if

I'm right, then maybe we've found our town."

It took them five minutes to clear up their dinner remains, one to

find the detail of Vermont in the huge atlas they'd packed and

thirty seconds to discover that Simmons could not be found. Another

ten seconds to agree on the location of their new home. Ten minutes

later they were on the road and June was worrying, "What if we

can't find it again? What if we miss it in the dark?"

Frank just batted his eyelashes at her teasingly, knowing she

couldn't see him doing it, then turned his attention back to the

road. "We'll find it."

*******************

It's closer than they think, for just a few hours later, they find

the turn-off sign for the Bluff Mountains, and Simmons. Although the

Bluffs are fairly well-known, Simmons is not. Simmons is hidden away

in the mountains, away from the main highways. At the end of a

winding mountain road, it sits nestled within the lower hills of the

smaller range of Bluffs. Even in the dark of night they can see what

it's like. Small and picturesque. Quaint and quiet.

Perfect...

Frank stops the car just inside of town, pulling into a tiny gas

station. It's closed, but then he really doesn't need gas. It's

very late and they need to sleep, more than anything. Knowing they

may have to sleep in the car doesn't bother them; they've done it

before. The important thing right now is that they feel safe. Here

in this forgotten place, somehow they are at peace.

June gets out and stands next to the car, stretching her tired

muscles. In the back seat Kevin is in the Zone, sleeping hard. She

won't awaken him until the very last; until she knows he'll need to

relieve himself either in a motel room - if they can find one - or in

the woods behind the gas station.

Frank steps around the back of the trailer and checks the hitch;

surprisingly the car did quite well pulling the extra load up that

killer road. In the darkness that surrounds them a lone security

light over the single gas pump affords them enough illumination to

droop of their shoulders. He takes her into his arms and cradles her

close, rocks her a little. He could sleep standing up; for all the

caffeine he's sucked down and the pure adrenaline coursing through

him for the duration of this trip, he could now crash in a heartbeat.

Relief, pure and simple. It's all around them; they can both feel

it. The very air seems to breathe tranquillity. It's nice. No,

more than nice... it's a blessing.

There's a battered phone booth nearby and Frank sees a dog-eared

phone book hanging on the side of the booth. He opens to the Yellow

Pages and searches for motels, figuring there cannot possibly be any

in this tiny place.

He's wrong... and five minutes later they pull up to the Maple Leaf

Motel, which looks deserted but has a glowing 'Vacancy' sign out

front. There is a note on the office door.

'After-hours self-registration: Unit three.' June looks up at her

husband in confusion.

"Unit Three?" Frank shrugs, walks down the single row of connected

cabin-like units, and finds Three. When he tries the door, he finds

it unlocked. He shakes his head in amazement.

"Now, that's what I call trust!"

An hour later they have Kevin snuggled in the bed between them, the

door safely locked from the inside and the utter silence of the

mountain night all around them as they lay in bed and hold hands,

talking softly.

The motel room is sparse but clean, with a comfortable bed and fresh

linens and towels. No TV. No telephone. Just a bed and a lamp and

a bathroom with a rickety shower but plenty of hot water. It's

enough for them - it's just fine, for them.

June reaches across her son and kisses his father softly, only

mourning for a moment that they cannot make love with a child between

them on the bed. But it's all right - they have all the time in the

world, to make tender love between them. Starting tomorrow, they

have all they will need to settle here, make a life here. Already

they feel as if they belong.

In the dark Frank cups his wife's soft breast in his hand and sighs

longingly when she likewise cradles him through his boxer shorts.

Her warm palm soothes and enflames him at the same time, but he knows

he'll sleep better if she keeps her hands on him - he always does.

In the middle of their night it's a way of assuring they'll still be

in the same bed together come morning. It's not that they are

afraid... they are just cautious.

They don't have a lot to say and what they do confide to each other

is accomplished in short, whispery sentences. They decide to go

hunting for lodging first thing in the morning, hoping their luck

will hold and they'll find something fast. They wax optimistic about

the way the people living here will accept them. They talk of sofas

and sinks, of buying curtains and shelf paper. Mundane and normal.

The stuff futures are made of... their future.

As their eyes grow heavy and their hands slip, just a little,

clasping together as is their habit... Frank mumbles a raspy, "Nite,

Scully... love you baby, so very much..." And her reply is just as

soft and just as rough with impending sleep.

"Love you, too, Mulder... nite." They each smile just a tiny bit,

loving the deep night when they feel completely safe to call each

other by their real names. They fall asleep smiling and when they

awaken in the morning they'll begin a new life, here in Simmons,

Vermont - high in the Bluff Mountains...

Far from the madding crowd.

end

Well, I guess this is officially a series!

Thanks for reading, and would love to hear from you: char@chaffin.com

Please visit my web site, at http://char.chaffin.com

Crystal, you Baby, you... Happy Birthday!