Title: Lovely Evening
Author: Maureen S. O'Brien
Date: September 5, 1997
Rating: G
Category: 
Archive: Yes.
Disclaimer: Chris Carter owns the X-Files -- lock, 
stock, and gun barrel. But Vampire Miyu was created by 
a nice Japanese lady. I just thought they ought to meet,
since they're in the same line of work....
Author's Note: an attempt to do something short,
atmospheric, and non-fragmental.
Lovely Evening
Another lovely summer evening on Martha's Vineyard. The 
breeze touched Mrs. Mulder's cheeks with cool and gentle 
fingers as she walked back toward the field where Fox had 
gone to play. 
That was the latest thing. Fox wanted them to call him 
Mulder. His own parents! She supposed she should have 
either laughed or gotten mad about it, but she couldn't 
muster the energy for either. She just didn't call him 
anything.
She was always tired, she thought. Perhaps not every day, 
but most days. Her husband didn't love her anymore. 
Neither did her son. But then again, she didn't love them. 
She didn't have the strength. All of it had gone into 
surviving the loss of little Samantha. There wasn't a 
speck of it left for anyone else.
She passed through the line of bushes, watching the 
fireflies dance without a smile. Now she could see him. 
He was playing with that little Oriental girl from the 
Japanese tour group. But what were they doing?
Fox was kneeling. And the little girl was hugging him 
and burying her head in his neck. How sweet.
No. Fox looked like a zombie. He stared straight ahead 
of him. What was that little girl whispering to him?
She didn't like it. They were being too quiet.
"Fox William Mulder! Get up and march back to the house
right now!"
The little girl turned around and stared at her. "Is
his name Fox? He said it was Mulder."
She speaks English, anyway. "He likes to be called that. 
Fox?"
He was not moving. He still stared into space.
"He should not be called Fox. He does not have red hair.
He does not play clever tricks," the girl mused. "But
he is hunted." Her brown eyes looked amber in the 
sunset's glow.
"You should go home now, little girl," Mrs. Mulder said.
Somehow, she was reluctant to go to Fox while the girl
stood in the way. "What's your name, so I can call your
parents to come and get you? Which hotel are you staying
in?"
"I am Miyu," the girl said, giggling. "It means 'lovely
evening'."
"That's nice," Mrs. Mulder said patiently. Maybe her 
English wasn't as good as she'd thought. "But you need
to go home now. Fox isn't feeling too well, it seems."
"He is feeling better than he has felt for a long time."
Mrs. Mulder's eyes widened. She marched straight up to
Fox and yanked him up on his feet. His eyes seemed
vague for a moment, then came into focus. "What do you
want?"
"You've been drinking, haven't you. Or taking drugs.
Just like your father, running away from reality and
into a bottle."
"I have not!" His hazel eyes looked indignant. "Miyu
was teaching me how to meditate!"
She looked searchingly at the girl. "Is that true?"
"Yes." She looked as guileless as a calm sea by 
moonlight.
Mrs. Mulder thought for a moment. Parental 
instinct didn't believe it. They might not
be doing drugs, but they were up to _something_.
"Go back to the house, Fox. It's time to wash
up for supper."
"Okay, mom."
"And you, little girl -- go on back to the
hotel now. Your parents will be worried about
you." She waited. Miyu shrugged to herself
and left. Mrs. Mulder watched her walk down
the road. Only when she was halfway back to
town did she turn back to her own house.
A masked and robed figure appeared out of 
thin air and floated near Miyu. She stepped
into the air, her red hair ribbons blowing
in the wind.
"I have lost him, Larva," she said dispiritedly.
"He believed that his sister had been the only 
one who loved him, and that he could see her in 
good dreams if he listened to me. But his mother 
came for him."
"There are other beautiful boys, Miyu."
"He was special. I would have given him peace, and
now he will never have it." She paused. "He will 
always be hunted, but perhaps he will find clever 
tricks."
"Or someone who loves him."
She smiles, a little sadly, and holds out her hand 
to him. "Perhaps." 
When he takes it, she looks to the west, toward
the mainland. "There is a saying in English, 
Larva. Tell it to me."
"Red sky at night, sailor's delight?"
"Yes, that's it."
The sun sets in a blaze of red. As red as a fox's
tail as it escapes from the hounds. As red as
blood.
Just another lovely evening.