I am working on my SG/War Movie fic, really, I am. It's just that it's
humor, and I have trouble with writing humor...

This is AU, both X-Files and "the other show" - you guess what show.
There's clues as to who's narrating. And one is a big clue!

Place: an office building
Words: fly grave burden
Phrase: "I want you to remember."


	"The Man Behind Glass"
	by Amatia


	"We're gonna have a good time, And no one's gonna take that time
away, You can stay as long as you like."
						 - James Brown,
						 "You Can Close Your Eyes"


	Why Jeff had called me out here to the abandoned building, I didn't
quite understand at first. It was just another empty office building, one
of many in this part of town, all old, slightly crumbling. And did I
mention old?

	As I got out of the car, I saw Jeff standing in the doorway,
leaning against the fram. His body made a straight but slanted line, from
his strong shoulders, down through his slim "fuck-me" hips, to his sensible
brown FBI shoes. A cigarette dangled from his lips, the slight wind making
the smoke fly instead of drift, slowly. He loved his cigarettes like I love
my coffee, that I knew. But they were a recent habit, where my obsession
went back years.

	I made my way toward him. His eyes were on me, lids half lowered.
I'd loved him, once.

	Once.

	I reached the bottom of the steps. "I got your message."

	"I can see that," he replied. "If you hadn't, you wouldn't be here."

	"So what's the occassion?"

	"Did you know this used to be a Bureau building?" he asked,
flicking ash from the cigarette, looking up along the facade.

	"That I did, Agent Spender."

	Chocolate brown eyes regarded me lazily. "If I recall correctly, it
wasn't Agent Spender you used to scream when I had your cock in my hand,
and mine in your ass."

	Once seemed like a long time ago, now. I didn't even tingle at the
memory as I once might have. "What do you want, Jeff?"

	"I want to know if you've gotten your mind out of that girl's grave
yet."

	Of course, the one topic I wanted to avoid, and the one topic he'd
loved to bring up. "If *I* recall correctly, that's none of your business,"
I snapped.

	He took a long drag on the cigarette, then flicked it away into the
gravel. "You wore that case like it was a burden that only you saw fit to
shoulder. And it became my business when you woke up in the middle of the
night, screaming and crying her name."

	"It ceased to be your business when you walked out on me," I
replied coldly, suddenly wishing for a cup of coffee. A cup of coffee from
the Northern, to be exact. "Did you ask me here because you thought if I'd
just forgotten about the last few years, we could be together again?"

	"I want you to remember it," he replied, shrugging. I could hear
the frankness in his voice. "But I don't want you to live it forever. And
yeah, I thought maybe if you'd stopped living that case every moment of
your life, we could give it another shot."

	Before I could think about it, I'd pulled my shirt from my pants,
exposing the scar to the right of my navel. "Do you see the scar, Jeff?
That scar is with me each and every day. Unless you know how to magically
undo this scar and stop that bullet from even entering my body, I'm never
going to stop living with that case."

	"I thought you loved me," he said quietly, and I could see a flash
of sadness in his eyes.

	"I did, once," I replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be
getting back."

	"Love's not enough for you, huh?" he said bitterly. "Go then. Go be
alone with those ghosts. But if you think they love you more than I do,
you're wrong."

	"If you really loved me, you could live with them." I finished
tucking my shirt back into my pants, and straightened my tie and jacket.
"Goodbye, Jeffrey."

	I walked back to my car, feeling no remorse. As I'd said, I'd loved
him once, but like most things in my life, it hadn't lasted.

	I looked back as I drove away. He held another cigarette between
his fingers, and smoke drifted from his mouth as he looked up, up, up, at
the sky.

	***

	Hopefully someone understood that. <grin>