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RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: Vignette, Scully POV
SPOILERS: None
ARCHIVING: I'd be absolutely honored. Just drop me a note so I can
come visit. :o)
SUMMARY: A battle is being waged inside Scully.
NOTES: This is something that just came to me one night before I went to
sleep. You'll notice that I never used Mulder or Scully's name in here,
although it's definitely about the two of them. I did this
deliberately, because I felt that this story can pertain to many women,
not just Scully. But it's a guy-friendly story too, I hope. I'd love
to receive feedback and hear everyone's thoughts on this. So please
e-mail me!
DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully don't belong to me. They belong to Chris
Carter, Ten Thirteen, and the wonderful actors who bring them to life.
No infringement intended.
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It's hard being strong.
Sounds like a contradiction, doesn't it? After all, if you're strong,
then why should anything be hard for you? Especially the act of being
strong. It doesn't make sense. But that's the way it seems.
Since the dawn of time, the issue of strength has formed a barrier
between men and women. Men have it, and women don't. Or so a man once
said. It's a man's job to provide for his family. The woman's place is
at home. Or so a man once said.
But that man never stopped and realized that even at home, a woman had
immeasurable strength. She was the backbone of the family, the mother,
the wife, the nurturer, the lover. No, man never acknowledged that.
So the woman realized that if her strength was to be known, she would
have to enter the world of the man. And so she did.
And this is why I stand here today, wearing not a rib-crushing corset or
a long flowing dress, but a simple business suit. A man's outfit.
And to wear this man's outfit, I must have the strength of a man. I
must be emotionless and powerful, courageous and strong. For if I am
not, then I am not entitled to wear a man's outfit. And man will point
his finger and say, "See? A woman can never survive in a man's world.
She is not strong enough."
But as I stand here today, I can feel my shoulders sagging under this
suit, this burden. My spine bends a little, and I no longer stand up as
straight. My head lowers just a bit, my sagacious look gone. Because
today, my desires, my needs will no longer be suppressed. Today, I long
to be a woman. I long to go to the man I love, who stands before me
unaware of my turmoil, and let him envelop me in his arms. I long to
rely on his strength and allow his strength to become mine, for I fear
mine is failing me.
A battle is being waged inside me, woman's ancient struggle against
man's tyranny warring against my love and need for this one man. As he
turns toward me, he sees the war within my eyes, and his face fills with
concern and love. And the battle in my heart is won.
Before he can say a word, I am there, my arms around him, my head on his
chest. His arms come around me, gather me close to him, shelter me from
the world. His chest is solid beneath my cheek, and underneath it I can
feel the steady beat of his good heart. It is his strength.
It is my strength.
It is our strength.
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End.
