Jeffrey Spender (dutybound) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2022-07-30 23:09:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !narrative, jeffrey spender (dutybound), ~2022 july |
Who: Jeffrey Spender
What: Mulling a few things over
When: Saturday evening
Where: Lou's
Warnings: None
Status: Complete narrative
Most people would hate thinking of their life as boring, but not Spender. No, he was perfectly content with it to be boring. Well, boring interspersed with periods of town wackiness -- beyond the usual, that was, because Madison Valley was anything but normal. On a good day, it could almost -- almost -- pass for normal, but only almost.
It was the kind of place that his brother would find fascinating, and that thought made him yet again acknowledge the fact that while there was a good deal he didn't miss about home, there were certain aspects that he did miss. While it hadn't happened, probably wouldn't, there'd at least been the chance to know Mulder as more than just the man he'd antagonized for so long. They'd been in contact a bit over the years since Mulder's trial, a couple texts or a phone call every few months. And Spender understood why, or at least thought he did.
He was the only solid connection Mulder and Scully had to their son. He was the only person in the world that knew where William was. His connection to the van de Kamps was tenuous at best, known through a friend of a friend, but they were people he trusted immensely -- they had to be or he wouldn't have entrusted his nephew to them.
He took a sip of his beer, glancing around. Typical crowd for this point in the evening. Nothing particularly interesting going on. And that was pretty okay with him. He was there to do his usual -- people watch, drink, maybe strike up a conversation or two -- he didn't need any excitement.
Especially because you never knew what you were going to get on a good day and alcohol-fueled excitement? Was just a big old no.
So yeah, his life was boring. Or maybe uneventful. Maybe that was a better word, he didn't know. All he knew was that it was about as far a cry as he could get from the life he'd had back home, the job he'd had back home. (Both jobs, if you wanted to be really technical about things.) And that? Was something he was more than okay with. The shooting range came with infinitely less likelihood of an ulcer, something that couldn't be said about the FBI or teaching.
And he was a fan of that, too. So while sure, maybe his life was boring or uneventful or whatever, it was what he needed. It'd been a long time since he'd had that.