I wrote and posted this one at some other places a little 
while ago, so I apologize if you've read it already.

XXXXXXX
Hence
by Michelle

Disclaimer : Don't remind me.

Rating : PG

Feedback : Please! This is my second XF fic and I really want 
to know what you people think. gnrgirl@hotmail.com

Archive : Gossamer, Ephemeral : OK. Everyone else, keep my 
name on it and tell me where it is. Also at my site : 
http://www.geocities.com/michellestandish 

Spoilers : For the person in the world that hasn't seen the 
finale, this contains spoilers for Existence.

Author's Note : This is a little vignette I wrote because I was 
tired of all the MSR I've had to read the past few days. Yeah, 
yeah, I know, I know, I'm sounding very unshippy at the
moment. But I needed a break from all the ship, so I wrote this.

Summary : Too short for one of those.

***

Marita Covarubias sat the handle of her black plastic phone 
gently into the handle. Her curt, soft "Thank you." most likely 
had been missed by the bearer of the news.

She pushed back in her chair, leather and also black. Black like 
the room. Black like her suit. Black like . . . her life.

She stared at the door, scrutinizing the ridges of the door, the 
color of the stain, the little specks of rust on the brass knob. 
She stared without seeing, without emotion. Her gaze was as 
bereft of emotion as the most cold hearted killer.

Cold hearted killer . . .

The first tear slipped down her pale face, streaking the 
translucent powder with a singel tiny rivulet.

And then the deluge came.

Her face found her palms, she vainly tried to stiffle her sobs 
against them. Everything was crashing down around her. 
Everything was wrong. 

This can not be happening.

This can not be happening.

This can not be happening.

A knock came at the door, a voice sounded, muffled, through 
the solid oak. "Ms. Covarrubias?"

Marita sat up suddenly, gasping for breath, gasping for 
composure. She grabbed a tissue from the box on her desk, 
quickly running the harsh paper across her features as she 
shouted, "It's open!"

The boy that walked in, gratefully, was too tactful to comment 
on her tears.

Oh, Alex.

The End

***

Please tell me what you think! Pretty please!

gnrgirl@hotmail.com