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celli@fanfic101.com For my dad. |
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There is a picture in between the pages of one of my
mother's books. Two decades old or older, faded and
creased, it shows a little girl riding piggyback, her arms
tight around her daddy's neck. They're both laughing, and
each looks as though the other hung the moon just for
their benefit.
I remember looking up at him and thinking he was the
strongest man in the world.
There are two pictures, one in the corner of my high school
diploma, one tucked inside my college mortarboard. They
show a young woman standing stiffly next to her father.
In the second one they're even farther apart--if that's
possible--and the father's lips are tight.
Who are you to come to me and act like a father?
There is a picture on top of the stack in my memory box.
Marshall took it accidentally at a staff meeting while
showing off his latest cool gadget and thought I might like
to have it. It shows two agents, two spies, two people
walking the line between heaven and...SD-6. They're
leaning in, not quite looking at each other and not quite
looking away.
I'm out of practice when it comes to, uh... personal
matters.
Last night I got out all four pictures and stared for a
long time at the story they told. Then I fell asleep and
dreamed of an antique silver picture frame, sitting in a
place of honor on a dresser. The photo inside was of a
woman (me?) in a white dress, laughing up at my father, who
was wearing a tuxedo. He was smiling down at her--a real
smile, the edges of his eyes were crinkling--and they had
their arms around each other.
If I could give her back to you, I would.
Notes: The starred quotes are from "Masquerade,"
"Truth
Be Told," "The Coup," and "Color Blind,"
respectively.
Thanks to Alias-Online.net
for the transcripts. And thanks
to Lizbet, Jen, and Gail for the great beta work.
Photo from www.abc.com and used without permission.