From: jenbird@earthlink.net Mon May 12 18:34:15 1997
Subject: "Us 1: The Signs of My Undoing" by Jennifer Maurer
From: Jennifer Maurer <*new* email address: jenbird@earthlink.net>
--------
Adam & Natasha,
I finally finished my "Us" series *does a happy little dance* so here's
part 1, parts 2-5 will follow, each in a separate e-mail. Thanks!
--Jennifer
--------
This is my VERY FIRST time posting
anything, ever, so please be gentle as
far as formatting goes! Where the
writing's concerned, say whatever you
like. Address for comments below.
DISCLAIMERS: I think we know this as well
as we all know the words to the theme
from "Gilligan's Island," right? Mulder,
Scully, Skinner and even Gerald Schnauz
don't belong to me (but who'd want Jerry,
anyway? Gimme DD any day hehehe...), they
belong to Chris Carter, FOX, and 1013
Productions. I took them without asking,
so GO AHEAD AND SUE ME! Ha, ha, just
KIDDING! I don't have any assets anyway,
only debt, and you're welcome to THAT.
This is (hopefully) the beginning of a
series inspired by Peter Gabriel's album
"Us". All lyrics quoted herein are the
property of Real World Music, Ltd. No
infringement intended there, either.
Love ya, Peter! I also included some
lyrics from Alanis Morissette's album
"Jagged Little Pill" because they fit,
simple as that. Please don't hurt me,
angry woman!
RATING: Hmm...I suppose we'll say NC-17
for some racy scenes and a few bad words.
Heaps of Scully-angst. Some Hallmark
moments. MSR but no nooky yet.
SPOILER: If you haven't seen "Unruhe,"
this is where you get off. The rest of
us can stay on the bus. Also includes
references to "Pusher," "Wetwired,"
"Irresistible" and Scully's sister and
father.
SUMMARY: Scully realizes that this case
has affected her more deeply than she
previously imagined. Mulder, great guy
that he is, helps her deal with a rare
case of the willies.
LAST THING TO READ BEFORE THE STORY:
Comments/praise/even flames are welcome
at: . I won't whimper
and plead for feedback, I'll just cry
into my pillow every night until I get
some. Really, feel free to make me do
the happy e-mail dance!
This part is dedicated to "the
*enigmatic* Dr. Scully" and to Kelli.
Thanks for the help!
"US/THE SIGNS OF MY UNDOING" part 01/??
by: Jennifer Maurer
"I caught sight of my reflection/I caught
it in the window/I saw the darkness in my
heart/I saw the signs of my undoing/They
had been there from the start/And the
darkness still has work to do/The knotted
cord's untying/At my request you take me
in/In that tenderness I am floating
away/No certainty, nothing to rely
on/Holding still for a moment/What a
moment this is/Oh for a moment of
forgetting, a moment of bliss"
---Peter Gabriel, "Blood of Eden"
I was awakened by a scream but I wasn't
aware until I hit the floor that it came
from me. I froze for a moment, breathing
hard, trying to figure out what had
happened. Jerry Schnauz had been coming
at me with his icepick---Mulder was
slamming himself against the trailer door
in a futile attempt to break in---Schnauz
placed a hand on my forehead, lifted my
eyelid with his thumb, steadied his aim.
As the shining steel point rushed towards
my eye, I screamed Mulder's name again-
And found myself on my own living room
floor, shaken and sweaty. Another
nightmare. The second one in as many
nights. Last night, working on my report
for this X-File, I had started to cry. A
single tear escaped and rolled down my
cheek as I gazed at the contorted
photograph of my own terror. My mouth
frozen open in a scream. My hand
reaching for Mulder to help me. Six
hooked claws reaching for my face. That
photograph opened the floodgates and I
suddenly found myself sobbing. The
professional part of me was embarrassed
by this outburst. I usually pride myself
on my ability to stay detached and in
control, the yin to Mulder's emotional,
obsessive yang. In the privacy of my
apartment, however, I quickly gave up my
feeble attempts at self-control and cried
myself to a troubled sleep.
That was when the first nightmare came.
Hazy, jumbled images at first: Melissa's
voice calling me, her figure always
disappearing around a corner as I tried
to catch her. Heavy footsteps fading in
and out, my father's voice: "Did you get
my message, Starbuck?" Then Schnauz with
the icepick, circling me strapped to his
chair, explaining that all he wanted to
do was help me, end my unrest. Skinner and
Mulder stood watching, nodding solemnly.
I had screamed myself awake from that
one, too. I stayed up the rest of the
night.
Tonight's show had cut right to the
chase---all I remembered was being in
that trailer, the icepick hurtling
towards me,
ready to sink into the tender tissue of
my brain. Mulder unable to reach me. In
reality, of course, Mulder had burst in
and killed Schnauz in the nick of time.
He has a knack for that, having saved me
dozens of times. His only miss was Duane
Barry. Over all, an excellent average.
He had wanted to comfort me after this
most recent rescue, I knew, but I'd
brushed past him, unable to accept his
kindness. All I wanted at that point was
to see the sky, be outside that damn
shoebox of a trailer. Anything he might
have wanted to say after that got lost in
a jumble of police reports and other
loose ends.
I had called out sick the next day with
some trepidation---I never do it, not
even after my abduction or Ahab's death.
I wondered what Mulder's reaction would
be. In the end I wimped out and e-mailed
him at 5AM when I realized I wasn't going
to be a productive agent on no sleep. I
gave him some lame excuse and then
shuffled off to soak in a hot tub, hoping
it would relax me. When I got out, my
computer was beeping softly to indicate I
had a reply from him: I smiled and
settled down on the couch in my bathrobe.
I was too tired to move but not tired
enough to really sleep, and spent the day
channel surfing (it really was
transvestite biker day), reading, and
dozing in fits and starts. Mulder called
that afternoon to check in but I let the
machine pick it up. I didn't want to go
out or see anybody. I had no idea how I
was going to deal with tomorrow. , was my last thought. Famous
last words.
I gingerly rolled over and pulled myself
into a sitting position, rearranging my
tangled bathrobe. It wasn't a long drop
from the couch where I'd fallen asleep to
my living room floor, but my elbows and
knees were already aching in protest.
I
hauled myself creakily to my feet and
dropped onto the couch. Tears of
exhaustion filled my eyes and before I
knew it I was crying again. What was it
about this case that had started me
unraveling? God, I'd survived my own
abduction, my sister's murder, and dozens
of close calls without faltering. Why go
to pieces now?
I didn't want to think about this
anymore. I didn't want to think at all,
I just wanted some rest, but I knew that
would be impossible now. With tears
still trickling down my face, I got up
and pulled on jeans and a sweatshirt. I
had to get out of my apartment. I needed
to see the sky, my apartment seemed too
small.
whispered a voice in my head, and that's
when I grabbed my coat and keys and
bolted out the door.
In the elevator going down I wondered
where I thought I was going at 1:30 in
the morning. I paused outside the front
door and looked up at the stars. The
night was clear and I could make out
several constellations. I sighed and
descended the steps. I decided to take a
walk around the block.
And on the heels of that thought came
another: Mulder is the one who
chases trouble, and he's gotten himself
into some bad situations. With rare
exceptions, however, he usually emerges
from them just fine. I cover his ass
with Skinner, but that's about it. The
one time I really pulled his butt out of
a sling, I was the one who'd gotten him
into it by shooting him.
I, on the other hand, seem to be a
virtual magnet for death fetishists, ax-
wielding cannibals, liver-sucking
mutants, and God knows what else---maybe
even aliens. Not to mention my
astounding talent for getting bonked on
the head by a wide variety of suspects.
"Yup," I said out loud to myself, "I'm an
FBI agent anyone would be proud to have
for a partner."
I kept walking, smearing the tears away
with the backs of my hands, taking deep
breaths to try and calm down. I was over
the worst of my self-pity when I
discovered I'd wandered farther from home
during my wool-gathering than I'd
intended. I found myself at a small
elementary school a few miles away.
I thought
as I headed for the playground. I was
more weary than ever and just wanted to
sit down.
An eerie glow came from the floodlights
still illuminating the basketball court
at the bottom of the hill.
After that thought, of course, I couldn't
get him off my mind. I knew we would
laugh about our height difference, and
he'd probably hold the ball way over my
head to tease me. Afterwards we'd sit on
these swings and shoot the breeze, or
maybe not talk at all, just enjoy a
companionable silence together.
The longer I ran through these scenarios,
the lonelier I became. I really did want
Mulder with me. I would happily accept
his comfort now. More tears started
flowing down my cheeks and I angrily
wondered when I was going to pull myself
together and stop this childish
blubbering. I checked my watch. Quarter
to three. All the times he's called me in
the wee hours, he won't mind. I stopped
myself. The
thought of facing more nightmares
unnerved me. They were only dreams,
true, but I didn't think I could handle
another. I stifled another sob. Fuck
it. I needed Mulder. I could not face
being alone anymore. He was the only one
I wanted to lean on now.
I pushed myself up and headed for the
payphone on the corner of the building.
In my haste I had forgotten my cell
phone. I dug in the pockets of my jeans
for change. None. I lifted the
receiver and punched 0.
"Thank you for choosing Sprint, this is
Marjorie, how can I help you?"
"I need to make a collect call."
"The number you're calling?"
"202-555-0199."
"And your name?"
I hesitated. Mulder only used my first
name when he wanted to get my attention
on a personal level. It seemed
appropriate now.
"Dana," I quavered.
"One moment, please..."
His phone rang once, twice. I started
trembling all over.
"Yeah?" Mulder's voice was scratchy and
he sounded half-asleep but not totally
groggy. My spirits lifted a bit at the
sound of his voice.
"This is the Sprint operator with a
collect call from Dana, will you accept
the charges?"
"Yes, yes," he answered, sounding
completely awake and alert now.
"Go ahead, Dana," the operator said, and
clicked off.
"Scully? Where are you?"
"I'm, um, at a playground a few miles
from home," I said in a shaky voice.
"What happened? Are you okay?" I could
hear the panic rising in his voice.
"I'm not in danger or anything, but can
you please come get me, Mulder?"
"Of course. Is there a public place
where you can wait for me?"
"I'll be okay here. It's Overbrook
Elementary school, do you know where that
is?"
"Yup. I'm on my way. Don't go
anywhere."
"I won't."
We hung up and I immediately stopped
crying, filled with relief. Part of me
hated myself for calling and crying like
a lost child, but mostly I was glad I
would finally have someone to talk to
about this. Someone who understood.
I walked back to the swings and plopped
down with a sigh, facing the opposite way
so I could see the road. I started
swaying back and forth gently as I
watched the headlights go by, waiting for
Mulder. One car swung around the corner
sharply and sped up the street, and I
knew it was him. He careened into the
parking lot and jumped out of his car. I
watched his lanky frame as he ran towards
the playground with a flashlight.
"Scully? Scully!" he yelled.
"Over here, Mulder," I called out to him.
The beam of light swung around and hit me
right in the eyes. He came closer,
sweeping the area around me, and I saw
that he had his gun in his other hand.
"Mulder, it's okay, it's nothing
dangerous. Just me."
He took one last look around and then
holstered his gun. He knelt down in
front of me and took both my cold hands
in his own warm ones. I could tell by
his expression that he saw the strain in
my face.
"Are you hurt?" he asked softly.
I shook my head.
"Sure?"
I nodded.
"God, Scully, I was so scared."
"I'm sorry," I whispered. We looked at
each other for a long moment, his
forearms resting on my thighs as he
absently stroked my hands with his
thumbs. He studied my face in the dim
light.
"Your eyes are puffy. You've been
crying."
I shrugged, then nodded.
He looked at me, lips pursed, and I could
tell he was wondering what to make of
this. I stared into his eyes, at a loss
for words. I waited for him to say
something.
"This is not like you," he stated
quietly. It wasn't an accusation, just a
fact. I nodded agreement.
"It's the case, isn't it? That's what's
bothering you."
I nodded again, my eyes beginning to
water. My throat contracted with the
threat of tears and I swallowed to try
and get rid of the lump. Mulder noticed
this and reached up to touch my cheek
gently.
"Dana, please tell me what's wrong."
It was my first name that broke the dam.
I made a choking whimper, trying to hold
it in, and I saw Mulder wince in sympathy
with my pain. I burst out sobbing and he
gathered me gently into his arms. I
leaned into him and cried for a long
time, shaking. This time I couldn't make
myself calm down and stop, everything
came out at once: I was crying for my own
unrest, all of it. Schnauz had been
right when he said I had unruhe, as much
as I had tried to deny it. The
deaths of Melissa and my father. My
abduction. All the times I'd thought I'd
lost Mulder---New Mexico, the alien
retro-virus that almost killed him.
Falling under the influence of those
subliminal signals and thinking he had
turned against me. Watching him struggle
against Modell, trying not to shoot me.
I cried deep, hoarse
sobs, moaning as each painful scene
replayed itself in my mind. I felt
myself slipping further and further out
of control, with only Mulder's presence
to anchor me. I sagged against him,
almost too tired now to sit upright, and
I threw him off balance. He shifted to
sit on the ground under the swing and
pulled me down with him, settling me in
his lap and rocking me back and forth.
Finally, I started to hyperventilate, and
panicked. I pulled back and looked up
into Mulder's face, gasping wordlessly,
clutching his jacket. He looked back
into my eyes and put his palms against my
cheeks, wiping the tears away with his
thumbs. With an effort I brought my
breathing under control and drooped back
against him, completely spent.
"Feel better?"
I nodded against his chest.
"How about we blow this pop stand?" he
asked.
I nodded again, and he slid me off his
lap so he could stand up. He reached for
my hands and pulled me to my feet. I
wrapped my arm around his waist and he
circled my shoulders, squeezing me close
to him. Joined together like this, we
hobbled to his car. He gently deposited
me in the passenger seat and walked
around the front of the car to get in his
side. I watched him, finally feeling
some measure of peace since this whole
disaster began. I was not acting like
myself, but Mulder knew me better than
anyone, and he would help me.
We were both silent on the drive back to
his place. He knew, without even asking,
that I didn't want to go home. Mulder's
apartment may not be the coziest place in
the world but there is something about it
I like.
I sighed and leaned my head against the
window, watching the scenery go by. I
could sense him turn his head and look at
me every once in awhile, and at one red
light he reached over and took my hand.
He squeezed it and I gave his hand four
quick squeezes back.
"Scully?"
"Nothing," I said, turning to him and
showing a small smile, "Just a secret
handshake my grandmother taught me."
"Show me."
Just then the driver behind us beeped his
horn; the light had turned green. Mulder
released my hand and turned his eyes back
to the road, the moment over.
We got to his apartment and I actually
waited for him to hop out of the car and
come around to open my door. He bowed
and made a flourish.
"May I offer you my arm, m'lady?"
I smiled at him and tucked my hand under
his elbow. We rode the elevator up to
the fourth floor in silence, both of us
watching the blinking floor indicator.
He led me down the hall and ushered me
into his apartment, his hand on the small
of my back in his customary gesture. I
sank down on the sofa.
"Let me take your coat. Tea for you,
right?"
"If you have any, yeah, that would be
great."
"Celestial Seasonings Sleepytime, with a
dash of honey." He smiled at me, proud
of his knowledge. I returned the smile.
"Mulder, I am impressed."
"You'll be even more impressed when you
see me drink some myself," he called over
his shoulder as he went into the kitchen.
I listened to him bustling around and
soon he returned with two steaming mugs.
I took a sip, enjoying the familiar warm
flavors sliding down my throat. Mulder
watched me over the rim of his mug,
eyebrows raised in anticipation.
"Just right. You can make my tea every
day from now on," I teased, setting my
mug down. Mulder took a gulp of tea and
set his mug next to mine.
"I thought you didn't like frilly girl
beverages," I said, referring to a remark
Mulder had once made in our great debate
of coffee vs. tea.
He smiled and shrugged. "First time for
everything."
We stared at each other silently for a
minute, and I knew he was waiting for me
to begin. Suddenly I felt shy, and
somewhat embarrassed about rousing Mulder
from sleep in the middle of the night to
come pick me up like a lost child.
"I'm so---"
He held up a hand and cut me off. "I
don't want to hear any apologies, Scully.
You've been there for me every time I
needed you. I'm glad to have a chance to
do the same for you in return, although I
wish I didn't have to. Because I hate to
see you upset, I mean. But I'm happy to
do it." He smiled at his convoluted
sentence. "Does that make sense?"
"As much sense as you usually make," I
smirked, trying to lighten the mood.
He made a face at me, then watched me
expectantly, waiting for me to continue.
"Mulder...I don't know what's wrong with
me. We've handled dozens of dangerous
cases, seen any number of disturbing
things. In the past, I have been able
to handle our cases in the manner in
which I was trained to. This one,
though...I can't stop dreaming about it."
"Nightmares?"
I nodded, then ducked my head to break
eye contact. "I haven't slept since that
day. I wake up screaming."
He looked at me sympathetically. "I can
relate to that."
I looked back up at him. "Mulder, this
X-File, it's pretty tame compared to
others we've investigated. No UFO's or
government conspiracies..."
"Just some concrete evidence: a
photograph of your own terror."
I sighed and put my logic cap back on.
"There could be any numbers of
explanations for that: those photo booths
aren't very reliable, it could be old
film---"
"Yeah, unflattering pictures of myself
give me nightmares all the time," he
answered dryly, shooting me a pointed
look. I blushed and fell silent.
"Scully," he continued, "I asked you once
why you refused to believe, after all
we've seen. You told me you were afraid
to believe. Isn't it possible that's
what's happening here?"
"This is totally different from Luther
Boggs---"
"Is it? You're confronted with something
paranormal that directly involves you,
and you shy away from it, try to explain
it away with science. Only this time,
your subconscious won't let you, because
deep inside you know something's going
on."
"Yeah, I'm losing my mind," I whispered,
looking down at my hands clenched in my
lap.
"No, you're not. I know how you feel---
this is my specialty, you know. Getting
inside the minds of criminals. The more
deranged they are, the better I
understand them. What does that say
about me?"
"That you're brilliant," I answered.
He gave a small smile at the compliment.
"Or that I'm spooky."
"Don't say that," I said irritably, "You
know I hate it when you call yourself
that."
His grin widened. "What about when they
call you Mrs. Spooky?"
"That I don't mind. I'm proud of the
work we do, Mulder."
He nodded. "I know you are. I am, too,
and I'm proud to have you for my
partner."
I leaned back with a sigh. "Right now I
can't imagine why."
"Scully, listen to me," he said, putting
his hands on my shoulders, "You've held
it together through many traumatic
situations, some that I put you in.
Every one you handled in a textbook
manner, including this last one. You
almost had an icepick shoved into your
brain, for God's sake, who wouldn't get
nightmares from that? There's nothing
wrong with being scared."
"I wasn't scared, exactly, Mulder...I
mean, yes, being kidnapped by Schnauz was
terrifying. I owe you my life. A few
more minutes and I would have still been
alive...but Dana Scully would have been
dead." I started to tremble, becoming
agitated, and Mulder let his hands slide
down my arms to hold my hands again.
"Everything I am, all my memories, my
emotions, would have been destroyed. Not
just three month's worth... *everything*.
I wouldn't miss who I had been. I
wouldn't even remember."
"I would miss you, Scully," he said in a
low voice.
"But I wouldn't miss you," I cried, "I
wouldn't even know you! I wouldn't know
myself!"
"Dana, it's okay. It didn't happen. I
got to you in time. I never should have
let you go to the car alone-"
"Mulder, this is not about blame and it's
not about close calls! What bothers me
the most..." I faltered, unsure if I
could actually voice my next thought.
"Go ahead. Say it. Whatever it is, you
know you can tell me."
I nodded and continued, "What bothers me
the most...is that Schnauz was right.
I...I do have unrest. *Especially* me,
he said. There are things haunting me
that I will never be free of as long as
I'm alive...or sane. In my darker
moments I think that it wouldn't have
been all bad to lose myself that way.
The thought of being completely out of
touch with reality terrifies me, but with
that loss would come peace."
I could tell by the stricken look on
Mulder's face that this was not the
answer he expected. This was a thought
he may have had occasionally, but not one
he expected to hear from Dana Scully,
scientist, MD, and the ultimate
professional. I watched his face
anxiously, waiting for his reaction.
"Scully, you don't really mean that." He
meant it to come out as a statement, but
I also heard the question, the plea for
me to deny it.
"No, I suppose not. I'm happy with who I
am. But sometimes, Mulder...I wish I
didn't know everything I do."
"You wouldn't, if you hadn't been
assigned to the X-Files."
"Oh, no, you don't. This is one thing
I'm not letting you blame yourself for.
Mulder, I make my own choices, and that
includes career choices. You are without
a doubt the most extraordinary FBI agent
I've ever had the privilege to work with,
and I wouldn't change a thing about our
partnership. The things I've been
through, the things I wish had never
happened, are things entirely out of our
control. I know you hate that, and so do
I. But we both know who's responsible.
And it's not you."
We sat in silence for a minute. I could
tell he was letting my words sink in,
struggling against himself to accept that
I was right and it wasn't his fault.
Mulder is his own favorite scapegoat.
"It's just..." he hesitated, then
continued, "Every time something like
this happens, every time you get hurt or
your life is in danger, I can't help but
think that I could have prevented it by
doing something different. Being a
better FBI agent."
"Mulder, I feel the same way when
something happens to you. When it
happens to me, like this latest incident,
I question my abilities even more. If I
can't take care of myself, how will I
ever be able to protect you in a
dangerous situation?"
"You've done a great job so far."
I smiled. "Thanks."
"Look, Scully, these are the risks we
take as officers of the law. Sometimes
things go wrong and people get hurt or
killed. I trust you completely. With my
life. I know that you always do
everything you can to watch my back. And
you know I do the same for you. As far
as your unrest is concerned..."
I picked up where he trailed off, "It's
scary how similar our lives have become,
isn't it? We've both lost our fathers
suddenly. Our sisters were taken from us
in exchange for our lives. It was me
Krychek meant to shoot, not Melissa...and
you found your name on that folder under
Samantha's."
"It does make you wonder," he conceded.
"How do you deal with it? How do you
sleep at night?" I asked bluntly.
He shrugged. "I don't always. I usually
channel surf until I drop off. You know
that."
"But how do you live with so much unrest?
Don't you ever want to retreat into your
own mind and not have to face it
anymore?" I persisted.
Mulder shifted uneasily and responded,
"Sure, but I have to believe that by
facing it, I'll find Samantha someday.
At the very least, I know that my gift
for understanding the deviant mind can
help others. That gives me some
satisfaction. Look, Dana, you of all
people know that I'm not the best at
expressing or dealing with my emotions.
We just do the best we can for ourselves,
and each other."
I looked into his eyes for a long moment
and whispered, "Mulder, I don't know if I
can do this."
The color drained from his face and his
eyes widened. "You mean you want to
leave the X-Files?"
I shook my head. "No. I could never do
that. I'm just afraid that I'm losing my
effectiveness as an agent."
"You worried about that during the
Pfaster case, too."
I looked at him in surprise. I had never
told Mulder that I'd gone to see a
counselor at the Bureau and told her that
very thing. "How did you know that?"
He shrugged. "I could just tell."
"Mulder, I don't want to put you in
danger because I'm falling apart at the
seams, maybe I should back away..."
He grabbed my upper arms tightly and
pulled me close to him. My eyes widened
at the intensity in his face.
"Scully, don't you know by now that
you're what keeps me out of danger? I
felt at first that you were holding me
back, but I learned in time that you're
the one that keeps me grounded. And I'm
the one that makes you stretch your
boundaries. We're the perfect complement
to each other, can't you see that?
Remove one of us and the whole thing
falls apart. And then they win. We
can't let that happen. You can't leave.
You're too important to me."
I recovered my powers of speech enough to
say the only inane thing that popped into
my head: "I...I didn't know you felt this
strongly."
He reached up a hand to caress my cheek.
"I do. God, Scully, the same things you
said before went through my mind today,
too. A few more minutes and I would have
had to spend the rest of my life watching
you as a vegetable." His voice sank to a
whisper and he leaned in to rest his
forehead against mine, his hand reaching
up behind my head to stroke my hair. I
held very still, startled as much by his
actions as I was by how much I enjoyed
the sensation of having him so close to
me.
His breath was warm against my face as he
continued, "You mean more to me than
anyone. I can't lose you again. Your
abduction was bad enough, but having to
watch you like that for the rest of your
life..." He shuddered and pulled me into
his embrace. My heart started pounding.
I was sure he could feel it through both
our shirts because I could feel his pulse
racing as well. We held each other
tightly for a moment, then he pulled back
from me and looked into my eyes again.
His hands were still tangled in my hair
and his eyes had that hooded look I'd
never noticed was so sexy before. I
gazed back at him and caught myself
involuntarily licking my lips. He
correctly took that as my consent and
closed his eyes, dipping his head down to
mine. My eyelids fluttered shut as
his lips met mine. A light, soft touch.
Then he paused, waiting to see if I would
respond.
I returned the kiss, running the tip of
my tongue along his full lower lip, then
pausing myself to see what his next move
would be. He responded by pressing his
lips down on mine, kissing me fully. I
opened my mouth and slowly explored his
with my tongue, feeling his sharp intake
of breath at the sensation. I wrapped my
arms around his neck and he tightened his
grip on my hair as our passion built. He
slid his hands down my back to pull me
closer against him. We were both letting
out soft little moans as I sucked on his
tongue. A small part of me couldn't
believe this was Mulder I was kissing so
erotically, but it felt so right. We had
shared so much together, why not share
this, too? I certainly found Mulder
attractive, and every so often I would
catch him looking at me in a way that
made me wonder if he felt the same
towards me. Apparently he does, I
thought with an internal smile. After
two days of terror and no sleep, it felt
wonderful to be with Mulder like this. I
felt alive. Here was a caring,
compassionate human being who obviously
wanted me as much as I wanted him. What
nightmare could withstand love?
Mulder pulled back from me abruptly,
leaving me with my mouth hanging open.
My lips felt swollen from being pressed
against his teeth. We were both
breathing hard and I saw beads of sweat
on his forehead. I could tell by the
look on his face that he was having
doubts about what we'd just done and it
made my stomach sink.
"Scully..." he began, then stopped and
sprang up from the couch, stalking over
to the window. He leaned his forehead
against the glass. I sat still on the
couch, afraid to approach him, afraid I
wouldn't want to hear what he had to say.
Maybe he had only kissed me out of pity.
Maybe he'd just gotten caught up the
emotions of my close call. Maybe I was
an idiot for assuming he was experiencing
the same startling, new feelings I was.
I had never thought of Mulder in sexual
or romantic ways before---okay, yes I
had, but only in the occasional dream.
Or he would make some remark fraught with
innuendo and I'd start to wonder what lay
behind it, only to have him follow up
with some totally goofy comment that
would make me think:
I made myself get up off the couch and
walk over to him. His breath was fogging
up the glass and I could see his hands
clenching and unclenching. I pushed
aside the thought of what those hands
might feel like on my body and touched his shoulder. He turned
around and looked at me, his face
neutral. My heart skipped a beat at the
blankness I saw in his face. Until I got
a close look into his eyes. I could read
the desire there, and the fear.
"This was a surprise for you, too," I
said quietly. He nodded.
"Are you sorry?" he asked.
"No," I replied, "Are you?"
"No. I just don't know what to do next."
I couldn't help but grin at such a remark
coming from Mulder, the man of 1000 off-
color jokes and an impressive pornography
collection. He instantly read my thought
and smiled back. "Well, I know *what* to
do. I'm just not sure if I *should*."
"What does your heart tell you?" I asked,
placing the palm of one hand against his
chest. His heart beat like a drum
beneath my hand. He caught his breath at
my touch, then covered my hand with his
own.
"Several different things."
"Like what?" I persisted.
"Well, part of me wants to toss you onto
my rarely used bed and ravish you in
various creative ways."
I blushed and smiled at his words. I
cleared my throat and asked, "And the
other part?"
"The other part says I would be taking
advantage of you if I did. You haven't
gotten much sleep, Scully, and maybe
you're not thinking too clearly right
now."
"Oh, I think I'm thinking clearly about
certain things for the first time," I
replied, and was gratified to see him
blush in turn.
"Maybe so. I hope you are. But a little
sleep couldn't hurt. I'll still be here
when you wake up."
"But, Mulder, I'm not slee-" I betrayed
myself at that moment with a bone-
cracking yawn. When I opened my eyes
Mulder was grinning at me and I laughed.
"Okay, maybe I am."
"Come along then, Dana," he said, leading
me by the hand into his bedroom. "It's
bedtime for FBI agents." He opened a
drawer and pulled out a pair of boxer
shorts and a T-shirt that NOBODY KNOWS
I'M ELVIS. "You can wear these. The
bed's yours. Enjoy it."
"Don't I get a bedtime story?" I teased.
"Oh, yeah. Sure. Once upon a time there
was a woman named Dana and a man named
Mulder. One night, they decided to wait
until the next morning to see what
direction their relationship would take.
The end. Good night." With a kiss on my
forehead, he left, shutting the door
softly behind him. I chuckled and
changed into the shorts and T-shirt. I
peeled back the crisp sheets, which
looked like they hadn't been slept on in
awhile. I heard Mulder switch the TV
back on and flop down on the couch.
Resisting the urge to walk out there and
pounce on him,
I slid under the blankets and snapped off
the lamp. I felt myself sinking towards
a contented sleep for the first time in
two days and smiled at the luxurious
feeling. I watched the flickering light
from the TV seep under the door until I
drifted off.
I woke to Mulder's gentle hand stroking
my hair. All the blinds were drawn and I
had no idea how much time had passed. I
was lying on my side and Mulder was
sitting cross-legged on the bed next to
me. I stretched like a cat and looked up
at him, yawning.
"What time is it?" I asked.
He checked his watch. "Ten after seven."
I scooted myself up to lean against the
headboard. "I didn't sleep very long,
did I?"
He smiled at me. "I mean, it's ten after
seven in the evening, Scully."
My eyes widened in disbelief. "You mean
we slept the whole day?"
"Well, you did," he teased, "I was up at
the crack of dawn and put in a productive
day. Don't worry, Scully, I called us
out sick. Skinner was a little surprised
when I told him we were sleeping
together, but..."
I cut him off with a punch in the
shoulder. "Mulder, that is *not* funny."
"Sure it is," he cackled, ever the merry
prankster.
"Why didn't you wake me?"
"Why should I have? You hadn't slept in
two nights."
I switched topics. "How long were you
sitting there watching me before I woke
up?"
"Oh, about an hour. I was in and out all
day checking on you. You talk in your
sleep, you know."
I felt myself redden to the hairline. "I
do not."
"Do too."
"What did I say?"
"Enough to give me hope that you *were*
thinking clearly last night."
I squirmed slightly under his scrutiny.
"Like what?"
He grinned at me. "I'd tell you, Scully,
but the thing is, you asked me in your
sleep not to...and I promised you I
wouldn't. Don't worry, I'm sure the
memories will seep back into your
conscious mind someday."
I smacked him again. "Mulder, you're
trying my patience."
"So what else is new?" He unfolded his
long legs and rose, holding out his hand
to me. "Come on, dinners' ready."
I let myself be pulled out of bed and led
down the hall. "You cooked for me?" I
asked, amazed at this side of Mulder.
Domestic God. Who knew?
He snorted at my question. "You're
awake, Scully, the dream's over. We
ordered Chinese."
My laughter abruptly stopped when I saw
the coffee table in Mulder's living room.
I'd been expecting cardboard cartons
scattered around and maybe a six-pack.
Instead, he'd set the low table with
china plates and wine glasses. A fat,
scented candle in a glass jar flickered
softly. Two big pillows for us to sit
on.
"Something wrong, Scully?" he asked,
wondering at my sudden silence.
I shook my head and smothered a grin. He
shrugged and plopped down on the floor,
indicating I should sit also. I did,
watching him pour us wine and open the
cartons.
"General Tso's chicken and lo mien," he
said, dishing some out for each of us.
"Your favorites, right?"
I nodded and dug in, suddenly famished.
For awhile we were both silent as we
inhaled the food. I tangled with the
chopsticks at first, watching Mulder dig
in with his bare hands, sauce and noodles
dripping from his fingers. I giggled a
little at the thought and ditched the
chopsticks, using my fingers instead. By
the time we'd finished, we were both
messy up to our wrists. I sat back with
a satisfied sigh, watching Mulder slurp
up the last of his lo mien.
"Good?" he asked.
"Just what I wanted," I answered.
He nodded seriously, "I know."
My eyebrows shot up. "Oh, really?"
"Really."
"You know what I need?" I asked.
Mulder nodded again.
I gave him my patented think-you-know-it-
all-don't-you-Mulder look. "So what do I
need right now?"
"You need to clean off your hands," he
replied.
My heart started to race at his words. I
gulped. Had he read my thoughts? Was I
that transparent, or was he
that...spooky? Before I could completely
recover my composure he leapt up and went
into the kitchen, returning with two damp
paper towels. My hand shook as I reached
out to accept it from him, wiping the
sticky sauce off my fingers. I watched
him do the same with a startling pang of
regret. He caught what must have been an
odd look on my face.
"Something wrong, Scully?"
"No, no," I replied, shaking my head.
"Everything was delicious. Let me clean
up."
"Nah, just dump everything in the sink,
I'll get to it later."
"Before or after it becomes a biological
hazard?" I laughed over my shoulder,
carrying our plates to the sink. I
turned on the tap and dug out an ancient
bottle of Palmolive out from under the
sink. I scrubbed at the dishes as if I
could scrub away my own thoughts. I'd
had plenty of sleep, so Mulder's worry
that my mind was foggy no longer held
true. Yet I was still feeling these
peculiar tugs toward him...had Dana
Scully, the one they called the Ice Queen
(yes, I knew what other agents thought of
me) really contemplated sucking "Spooky"
Mulder's fingers? I felt my ears starting to burn at
the thought. What was wrong with me,
anyway? First I fall apart over some
routine (for Mulder and I, anyway) case,
now I'm struggling to repress my desire
to climb Mulder's body like a jungle gym.
"Need any help?" came Mulder's voice at
my ear.
I yelped and knocked the plate I'd been
washing against the sink, cracking it
cleanly in two. One half crashed to the
floor and the other slid into the sink.
I whirled around to face him.
"Mulder! Jesus Christ..."
"Just call me Mulder," he smirked,
bending down at the same time I did to
retrieve the broken pieces of plate. Our
foreheads cracked and we both
straightened up, laughing.
"I'm beginning to think I should wear a
football helmet, I get bonked on the head
so much," I joked.
"Here, I'll kiss and make it better," he
whispered, leaning in and softly kissing
the lump on my forehead. His lips
lingered against my skin longer than
necessary and I wondered if that was
really the tip of his tongue I was
feeling. He pulled away and looked at
me, half-defiant, half-scared. The ball
was in my court now, I knew. I could end
this, or continue. He was leaving the
choice up to me.
"Come here," I whispered, putting one
hand behind his head to pull him down to
me. He dipped his head and closed his
eyes as I gently touched my lips to his
forehead. I paused there, inhaling his
scent with a shaky breath. My mouth
traveled down one side of his face,
kissing his closed eyelids one at a time.
I planted light kisses along his jawline,
enjoying the tingling feel of his
stubble. I kissed his chin, down his
neck to his Adams's apple, feeling it
move beneath my mouth as he gulped and
put his hands on my hips, a half-embrace.
I slid my mouth back up and hovered over
his lips, pausing before I took that
final leap. He waited, his breath warm
and moist against my face. I snaked out
my tongue and touched the tip to his full
bottom lip, hearing him gasp at the
touch. I nibbled his bottom lip, a
secret part of me enjoying his ragged
breathing, his obvious desire. I was
panting just as hard. He still hadn't
tried to kiss me, hadn't pulled me
closer. I brought my other hand up to
frame his face with my palms, standing on
tiptoe as I pulled him closer. He let
out a moan as I traced his lips with my
tongue again.
"Dana, please..." he whimpered.
I kissed him then, exploring his mouth
with my tongue, tasting him. He slid his
arms around my waist and pulled me tight
against him. I could feel him, hard
against my stomach, and it only got me
hotter. I was sucking on his tongue,
biting his lip, kissing him for all I was
worth. Responding eagerly to my obvious
hunger, he grabbed my ass and boosted me
up onto the edge of the counter, sucking
my tongue into his mouth. I wrapped my
legs around his waist, rubbing against
him. Our caresses grew more frantic, he
shoved his hands under my sweatshirt and
stroked my breasts through my bra,
leaning closer to me. I felt myself
sliding backwards...right into the sink.
I started laughing into his mouth as I
felt the warm dishwater soak through my
jeans. At
that thought I completely lost it,
giggling madly, breaking the kiss to
laugh into his chest.
"What?" he gasped, half-smiling. He was
torn between wanting to know the joke and
wondering if it was on him.
"Look at me," I laughed, hopping off the
counter and turning around to show him my
wet butt.
"What...? Oh, the sink," he said,
smiling.
"We can't even make out like normal
people," I grinned.
To my surprise, his smile faded at my
remark. "What do you mean?"
My own smile faded at the sudden
seriousness of his expression. "I just
mean...you know, it's kind of funny,
ending up in the sink."
"But you didn't say we were funny. You
said we weren't normal."
My brow furrowed to match Mulder's,
wondering where he was going with this.
"I didn't say *we* weren't normal--"
He cut me off, "Just that we don't kiss
normal."
"Mulder---"
He shook his head and smiled at me.
"Forget it, Scully. I'm just
being...spooky, I guess. Come on, I'll
take you home so you can change into some
dry clothes."
I frowned at this unexpected proposition.
One minute we were necking like a couple
of teenagers, the next Mulder has shut
down and wants to take me home. I
followed him into the living room.
"Mulder, what's wrong?"
He avoided my gaze. "Nothing. We'll
have a lot to catch up on tomorrow, you
know, and you could probably use some
more sleep."
Sleep was the last thing on my mind right
now, my body was still humming with
desire, and my mind was reeling with both
the newly discovered depths of my
feelings for him and his abrupt
rejection. Blinking back tears, I put on
the coat he held out to me. His eyes met
mine for an instant and he saw I was
ready to cry but didn't say anything,
only looked away.
It was a long, awkward ride back to my
apartment, nothing like the ride to
safety and desire I'd taken earlier.
Mulder cranked the radio up louder than
usual. To block out any attempts at
conversation, I was sure. Alanis
Morissette was blaring out of the
speakers, and it started the tears
flowing down my cheeks.
"I don't wanna live on someday when my
motto is last week/I don't wanna be
responsible for your fractured heart and
it's wounded beat/I don't wanna be a
substitute for the smoke you've been
inhaling/What do you thank me/What do you
thank me for?"
I wanted to ask him if he felt
responsible for me, and if that was why
he'd kissed me, why he'd let me sleep at
his apartment and bought me dinner.
Maybe Mulder's motto was "last week", and
he didn't want any entanglements. I felt
my face set into the professional mask as
I dried the last of my tears. Fine.
Whatever he wanted. We'd just forget
this little interlude had ever happened
and go back to being partners. I'd let
my composure slip, but that was
understandable, considering what we'd
just been through. Mulder had come on to
me, I assured myself. And now he was
regretting it. Okay. Tomorrow
everything would be back to normal.
As we pulled up in front of my apartment
building, I knew that last thought was
the biggest lie of all. Things between
Mulder and I would never be the same
again.
To be continued...
End part 01. I'm working on part 02 now,
it should be out shortly.
From jenbird@earthlink.net Mon May 12 18:35:57 1997
Subject: "Us 2: This Time I Believe" by Jennifer Maurer
From: Jennifer Maurer
--------
*Sigh* I feel like I'm falling behind, everyone
else is writing about Scully's brain tumor and
I'm still plodding through her near escape from
an icepick lobotomy. Ah well, this is what
inspired me and I'm running with it. And
now...the long awaited Us 2! Thanks to everyone
who asked for this, and for waiting while I
worked on it!
DISCLAIMERS: I covered those in part 1. I see
no need to repeat myself. We all know who M &
S really belong to *sigh*. The song lyrics
aren't mine, either, credit is given where due.
SPOILERS: One teensy reference to "2Shy" (if
you don't care how Scully dresses, then it
won't be spoiled). References to "Duane Barry",
"Ascension" & "One Breath" (I got my copy of
the new X-Files set while writing this; now
I've FINALLY seen the abduction!) Also
references to "Fire" and "3" (yup, the women in
Mulder's past).
RATING: PG-13. Few mildly sexy things (still no
nooky), few bad words.
CLASSIFICATION: Starts out as a Mulder-
vignette, becomes sort of a relationship story
when Scully comes on the scene. This is one of
those stories where you want to crack their
heads together and scream, "Talk to each other,
already! Clear the air! Then suck some face!
You know you want to!" Mulder started to
frustrate me and *I'm* the author! You can
dress him up but you can't take him out...
SUMMARY: Mulder drops Scully off at her
apartment and returns home after their necking
session. Now it's his turn to mope and ponder
the hidden meaning of what they've just done.
Then he has to face her at work the next
day...heh heh heh.
COMMENTS: Feel free to heap gobs of praise on
Constructive criticism also
appreciated, I suppose:)
This part is dedicated to Agent Sabine.
Thanks, girlfriend, I had the strength of your
beliefs!
US 2/ THIS TIME I BELIEVE part 02/??
By: Jennifer Maurer
"So, you know how people are/When it's all gone
much too far/The way their minds are
made/Still, there's something you should
know/That I could not let show/That fear of
letting go/This old familiar craving/I've been
here before, this way of behaving/Don't know
who the hell I'm saving anymore/Let it pass let
it go let it leave/From the deepest place I
grieve/This time I believe/And in this moment/I
need to be needed/With this darkness all around
me/I like to be liked/In this emptiness and
fear/I want to be wanted/Cos I love to be
loved/I love to be loved."
---Peter Gabriel, "Love to Be
Loved"
Normal. Funny how a small word like that could
brings the walls crashing back down between
Scully and myself. "We can't even make out
like normal people," she'd said with a grin.
It *was* kind of funny, her sliding into the
sink like that, but my defenses came up and
wouldn't let the humor in. Despite all the
protests of my lonely heart, my mind had shut
down and offered her a lift home. Talk about
your smooth segue-ways: one minute we're
sucking face (and what lovely face it was), the
next I'm shoving her into the car. I knew she
was hurt and perplexed, but I just didn't have
it in me to try and articulate what I was
feeling.
All during the ride back to her apartment, I
could feel her turn and look at me every once
in awhile. The silence was oppressive. Once I
heard her take a deep breath, as though she
wanted to say something, and my hand
automatically reached out and cranked up the
radio. Alanis Morissette wailed at us:
"I don't want to be the filler if the void is
solely yours/I don't want to be your glass of
single malt whiskey hidden in the bottom
drawer/I don't want to be a bandage if the
wound is not mine/Lend me some fresh air."
She sighed sharply
and turned her face completely away from me, as
if she had read that thought. I couldn't look
at her again for the rest of the ride. If I
had turned to her, I knew I would have grabbed
her and never let her go. Every atom in my
body was digging in its heels and shrieking
"Noooooo! Don't let her get out of the car
without telling her how you feel about her!"
I'd never had to struggle against such strong
instincts before, not that I often did. We
pulled up in front of her building. She shoved
the door open and hopped out, then turned to
me, her cool professional mask back in place.
"Thank you, Mulder," she said quietly.
I nodded. "Not a problem. See you tomorrow."
She paused, then nodded back and shut the door
gently. I think I would have felt better if
she'd slammed it. I *had* ditched her rather
abruptly. I hoped she would be okay. I
hesitated, about to roll down the window and
call out to her, but she ran up the steps and
disappeared inside before I could work up the
nerve. Well, she'd probably tell me she was
fine anyway, as usual.
I turned the radio even louder on my way home,
wanting the sound to block out my restless
thoughts.
"You see it's too much to ask for and I am not
the doctor..."
I snapped it off so viciously the knob came off
in my hand. I snarled to
myself, wondering if I was actually referring
to the radio or myself.
My apartment had all the cheerfulness of a
broom closet without Scully's presence. I
paced back and forth, running the scene over
and over in my mind.
Damn eidetic memory.
a
voice taunted in my head. The voices of all
the agents who'd ridiculed me over the years.
Which was pretty much all the agents I
knew...except for Scully. She had only been
teasing me, and I knew it. Yet I'd overreacted
like some jilted teenager, getting rid of her
before she could say anything else to hurt me.
Her remark, for all the affection in it, *had*
hurt me. Because I knew it was the truth.
I hadn't been a normal person since Samantha's
abduction. I'd accepted this long ago and
learned to deal with it, even enjoyed it in a
perverse way. I had never been your average
agent, but I knew the X-Files had really put me
out in left field, reputation-wise. I still
remember Scully's disconcertion that first day
we'd met, when I'd leaned in and asked her if
she believed in extra-terrestrials. Being
known as "Spooky" Mulder didn't always bother
me. Only at certain times. Like now...
How did normal people kiss, anyway? I
uttered a short laugh that was more of a bark
and paced faster. I had already put Scully
through so much professionally. Was I prepared
to wreak havoc on her personal life as well?
teased a voice in my
head. Scully
*was* the only one I trusted, I knew that
without a doubt. I did care for her,
considered her the best friend I had. Did I
love her? My mind spun, refusing to settle
down long enough to entertain that thought
completely. I strongly suspected I did. When
I'd heard her voice over the phone last night,
shaking with fear, my heart had stopped. My
mind screamed When she asked me
to come get her, auto-pilot took over, all I
could think about was getting to her in time,
before the bastards took her away from me
again. There had already been one close call
that day, I couldn't push my luck again. My
relief when I'd found her unharmed had
surprised me a little.
I had been somewhat startled by her tears. I
had only seen Scully cry once before, during
the Pfaster investigation, smothered whimpers
into my shirt. Last night's wild sobs had
thrown me, but I realized even Scully's bound
to lose her composure once in her career. I
had been secretly complimenting myself on
comforting her when she'd dropped that
bombshell about half-wishing she could lose her
mind to escape her pain. was the thought that filled my
frozen mind. I'd stopped
worrying about that when we kissed, like any
two people would. I'd trod this
ground carefully, wondering if she'd respond in
kind or slap me. Her kisses had been all I'd
fantasized about, and more. I'd never paid
much attention to her "Ice Queen" reputation.
At first I'd thought Later, as
we became closer, I discovered that despite her
cool exterior, Scully really did have a warm
and gentle heart.
Watching her sleep had been a rare treat,
something I usually only enjoyed in snatches on
stakeouts. I'd leave the room, putter around
my apartment, try to work on my computer---yet
I was always drawn back to my bedroom, watching
Scully sleep. Her red hair fanned out on my
pillow, where no woman had slept for so long
.
I reached my hand out and then drew back half a
dozen times, wanting to touch her hair.
Finally I took a lock between my thumb and
forefinger and rubbed them together. Soft. I
got more daring and combed my fingers through
the bright strands. Her sweet scent drifted up
to me and I inhaled, smiling. Pretty. I
remembered that plane we'd found on the bottom
of the ocean, named "Drop Dead Red." I'd
teased Scully about that for weeks: I'd call
her "Red" and she'd pretend to glare at me and
growl "Drop dead." We had laughed about it.
After the scare last night, though, I didn't
think we'd be joking about dropping dead
anymore.
Then she had started muttering softly in her
sleep, and let me tell you, THAT got my
attention like nothing else. Her brow
furrowed, she frowned slightly. I pleaded silently, I smoothed her forehead with my
fingertips, the lightest touch, and her frown
had disappeared with a sleepy sound of
contentment that made me smile as well. Scully
reached up and touched my hand, still asleep,
and murmured, "Safe...thanks, Mulder..." I
blinked back tears at that simple statement. I
was probably the *least* safe person in
Scully's life, yet she had turned to me last
night when she needed someone. Finally she had
opened up to me. I
thought with a chuckle. She said one more
thing before sinking back into deep sleep and
letting go of my hand: "So nice...kissing
me..." I grinned.
She had awakened suddenly while I was still
playing with her hair. I'd had to restrain my
impulse to bolt off the bed and flee from the
room like a frightened woodland creature.
Her smile had slowed my
pulse to a normal rate and her shock at
sleeping so long had amused me. She seemed
okay with the kissy-face of the previous
evening, although I did have my doubts when I'd
caught her looking at me oddly over
dinner...doubts that were then erased by the
kisses we'd shared in my kitchen. Doubts
that had reared their ugly heads again when she'd
made that "normal" remark.
And now here I was, pacing my living room like
a caged animal, mentally kicking myself for
slamming the recently opened door in her face.
She'd taken me into her confidence, trusted me
with her problems, and how did I handle that?
By having what amounted to a temper tantrum and
escorting her coldly home. Geez, she was gonna
kill me. If she spoke to me at all, that is.
I snorted at that
thought. I was *already* involved with Scully,
and I wanted very much to be *further*
involved. I just didn't think it would be the
best thing for her. I hadn't loved anyone
since Samantha...what would happen if I let
myself love Scully? a voice in my head
chided me,
Thus, I spent the rest of my evening
alternately pacing some more and flopping down
on my couch with angry sighs, wondering why
nothing on TV was distracting me tonight. I
must have reached for the phone a million
times, wanting to call her.
The furthest I got was dialing half of her
number. Okay then, I would go into work
tomorrow and act like everything was normal.
I picked my most obnoxious tie the next
morning, the one I knew Scully hated the most,
hoping to get a smile out of her. I kept the
radio off all during my drive to FBI
headquarters, drumming my fingers nervously
against the wheel to my own internal beat.
I ran down the stairs to
the basement, too edgy to wait for the
elevator. I paused outside the door, then
swung it open. Darkness. She wasn't here yet.
I snapped on the lights, started the coffee,
even making that god-awful fudge flavored stuff
I knew Scully loved.
I stared at the file on the desk in front of
me, wondering why I was even pretending to make
the effort. My senses were tuned into the
hallway, waiting for her footsteps. My door
was even half-open, an event unusual enough to
warrant its own X-File. Footsteps came and
went...then I heard hers approaching. I'd know
Scully's step anywhere. Her sensible pumps
ticked down the hall, counting out the seconds
until...what? My heartbeat drummed in my ears,
growing louder with her footsteps. The door
swung open the rest of the way and that red
head peeked around the corner.
"Someone bust the lock again?" Scully inquired
pertly.
I think I gaped. I had been expecting anger,
coldness...anything but Scully's *normal*
behavior. Usually I have a witty comeback
ready for any banter she throws my way, but
right then I felt like my brain was wrapped in
cotton.
"Uhhhh...no."
"Good, because I think maintenance is tired of
giving you new doorknobs and keys " she
replied, walking in and sitting down in her
chair facing my desk, like she'd done a million
times before. She was wearing my favorite
suit, the sky blue pants suit she'd first worn
during the 2Shy case. It was unlike any of her
other conservative, dark suits. It matched her
eyes exactly. I'd made a comment to that
effect at the time and she'd felt my forehead
for a fever.
"Ummmm...yeah." I managed a watery smile.
"Mulder...are you all right?" she asked,
arching one eyebrow at me.
Was I all right? What kind of a question was
that? I
wanted to ask her more than anything, but
something stopped me. As her cool blue eyes
met mine, I began to catch on. She wanted to
pretend none of this had happened. That she
hadn't bared her soul to me, that we hadn't
kissed each other like no partners should.
Whatever she wanted. I could play this game.
"I'm fine. Just fine."
"Good. What are we working on?"
"Well, we have to finish up the case report on
Gerald Schnauz and get all the usual
annoying paperwork done for Skinner: expense
reports, yadda yadda, yadda."
She nodded. "Well, since I started the case
report, how about if I wrap that up, then I'll
help you with the other forms, okay?"
"Sure. Fine. Whatever."
Scully shot me a look at my curt tone but said
nothing, only rose and walked over to her desk
to set up her laptop. She got right down to
work while
I angrily shuffled papers around. I hate red
tape on a normal day but I really
thought I might snap trying to fill in the
dotted lines with Scully sitting across the
room, tapping softly on her keyboard. I wanted
to throw myself at her feet and ask forgiveness
for doing a 180 and dumping her back at home.
I wanted to sweep the computer off her desk
with one arm and ask her what the hell she
thought she was doing to me. I wanted to
tiptoe up behind her, tap her on the shoulder,
and softly inquire, "Did last night happen or
not?"
"Excuse me?" she said, turning in her chair to
face me.
"What?"
"You said something."
"No, I didn't."
"Oh...I thought I heard you say something."
"Nah, just, um, talking to myself. You know."
She looked at me for a minute, then shrugged
and turned back to her work.
I shook my head and forced my attention to the
crumpled forms in front of me. I was getting
as good as I usually gave, and I didn't like it
one bit. I couldn't even decide if Scully was
playing mind games on purpose or if she really just wanted
to forget what had happened. I thought, and managed a smile. My
mind ping-ponged back and forth. Ask her? Let
it go? Draw her further into my twisted
universe or be noble and keep her at arms'
length? Find out how she really felt about me
or spend the rest of my life wondering? Admit
to myself---and to her---how *I* felt about
*her*, or keep my mouth shut and maybe regret
it?
Regrets. I had so many where Scully was
concerned. She didn't know it but I still had
the tape from my answering machine, when she'd
been abducted by Duane Barry. I didn't play it very
often anymore, although I had after she'd first
come back. Constantly. Her words still echoed in my head like
a mantra. I knew I would always hear them. It
suddenly occurred to me that she'd sounded just
like that screaming for me in Schnauz's trailer
"Mulder...?"
I must have jumped a mile at her gentle hand on
my shoulder. I hadn't heard her get up and
walk across the office to me.
"Sorry...are you okay?"
I looked up at her, almost surprised to see her
standing there, I'd been so lost in my memories
of when she'd been gone...and then dying.
*Dying.* She had come so close to it. I had
nearly lost her for good. Melissa had come to
my door, urging me to come to the hospital
before it was too late. And
if I hadn't gotten to her in time yesterday, I
would've spent the rest of my life visiting her
in a hospital, only she *wouldn't* have known.
Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown as I
gaped at her, lost in thought again. She was
about to speak when I reached out and grabbed
her hand.
"You're here."
She smiled. "Last I checked, yes."
"I mean...you're *here*. Standing here.
Everything's okay."
She squeezed my hand back and then slowly
pulled hers from my grasp.
"I don't know...*is* everything okay?"
I grinned like a goof. "Yeah. Everything's
okay."
She nodded. "Good. Now let's get back to
work." She walked back to her desk and sat
down, immediately absorbed in her report again.
I watched her closely for a minute, still
somewhat amazed that she was in one piece. As
my mind cleared, however, I started to mentally
kick myself. What the hell was *that* all
about, Mulder? Some pretty smooth talkin'
there.
I clenched and unclenched my fists around the
forms, willing myself to open my mouth and
speak.
Sweat started to bead on my forehead at the
thought. God, I was no good at this sort of
thing. I hadn't been in love since Phoebe
Green, not really. I'd various flings, sure,
but never anything serious. Kristen Kilar
flashed through my mind and I winced. Scully
had been going through God knows what kind of
torture and I'd been getting laid by a vampire.
But I *was* loyal to her...wasn't I? I'd
searched for her for months. I had never given
up on her, not when her mother had bought her
tombstone, not even when the doctors had given
up all hope. She'd even said the strength of
my beliefs had brought her back. And I'd
always had the strength of hers. I'd let her
get closer to me than anyone in my life, ever.
Now here was Scully right in front of me, the
partner I'd always depended on more than
anybody...could I let her be something more to
me? More to the point: she *already* meant
more, but could I accept that? Did I deserve
to?
Okay. This had to be done. I knew with
absolute certainty that I would never forgive
myself if I didn't tell Scully how I felt about
her now, while I had the chance. The door had
been opened to me, by Scully herself . Now all I had to do was
walk through it. Into a place I knew well but
had never really visited: Dana Katherine's
heart.
The voice in my
head seemed to be making some sense this time.
, I told myself,
I
smothered a grin at the incredulous look I knew
Scully would have on her face when I sprung
this on her. I knew she thought Fox Mulder
didn't have even a nodding acquaintance with
romance or chivalry. Well, *she* was in for a
surprise. I grinned. This was pretty sneaky of
me. Guess ol' Spooky still has some surprises
left in him. She would probably think I was
some poorly programmed Mulder-clone, but I had
a feeling I could soon convince her of the
sincerity of my feelings.
I shoved the forms aside and got to my feet,
smothering my grin just before Scully turned
around to look at me inquiringly.
"Going somewhere?" she asked.
"Um, yeah, I need to do a
little research for a new case that Skinner's
assigned us. I'll finish those forms later,
okay?"
She merely shrugged and turned back to her
computer, resumed her typing.
I continued to marvel at my own behavior as I
walked to my car. Now it was my turn to act
out of character. It was almost as if Scully's
heart-broken sobs had opened up some door in my
soul. A door with rusty hinges, that had been
nailed shut since my sister's abduction. A
door that led to a room full of emotions I had
only had a nodding acquaintance with over the
years. Emotions I logically knew everyone
felt, emotions I could outwardly appear to
feel...but emotions that I hadn't *really*
experienced myself. Scully was sometimes the
same way, I thought, she seems so cool on the
outside, but every once in awhile she surprises
me. The one and only she'd called me "Fox,"
for example, and told me I was the only one
she'd put her career on the line for. Well, I
decided, it was way past time for *both* of us
to open up more.
I felt like a big, lost dork as soon as I
walked into the flower shop. I wrinkled my
nose at the assault of odors, wondering again
why women loved flowers so much. I grinned
at that last thought, knowing that I was the
poster boy for going against tradition. Still,
Clark Gable would do it.
I meandered around, managing to avoid the
salesgirl by ducking behind displays every time
she got near me. I didn't want to be talked
into anything. This was *my* gift to Scully, a
small way of saying how I loved her, and I was
determined to be...different. As usual.
I paused next to a big plastic bucket filled
with long stemmed roses. My eyes took in the red ones first,
then dismissed them as boring. *Everyone*
gives a single red rose to declare their love.
Scully and I had not come together like
everyone else, so doing it like everyone else
was out. White? I thought of a phrase I'd
read once, that very few women could dare to
hold a white rose against their skin. Nah. Too
mushy. Pink? Not for a redhead. Yellow? All
I could think of was "The Yellow Rose of
Texas." I finally settled on a half-opened
bud that was a delicate shade of
peach. I couldn't explain it, exactly, but the
color seemed right.
"Just one?" the salesgirl asked me.
"Yup." I answered. "Could you maybe dress it
up a little?"
She nodded and smiled, "Sure thing." I watched
as she added a fern leaf and a spring of baby's
breath, then wrapped the small bundle in dark
green tissue paper. She even included a little
plastic thing full of water on the bottom of
the rose. I felt myself grinning.
"Thanks a lot."
"No problem. Good luck." She winked at me.
I was pretty proud of myself as I headed back
to my car. I was acting less like Fox Mulder,
Special Agent and a little more like Fox
Mulder, Human Being. Heading back to FBI
headquarters, I decided that my basement office
was not where I wanted to talk to Scully.
Someplace else, I thought. Somewhere outside.
We'd always met each other on our bench by the
Potomac when there was something important
happening in our lives, that would be the right
spot. I pulled out my cell phone and called
the office.
"Federal Bureau of Investigation."
"Hi, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder, can you
connect me to my office?"
"One moment, Agent Mulder..."
It rang once...twice. Five, six...well, maybe she'd taken a
break or something. Just as I was about to
hang up, she answered.
"Scully."
"Hey, it's me."
"Mulder? Where are you?"
"I'm in my car, Scully,
can you meet me somewhere?"
"Your *car*? I thought you were just going
upstairs to the library."
"Um, yeah, well...I had to go out someplace.
It was important."
She sighed. "Another secret source, Mulder?"
"Better."
"Better than a secret source? Do you have a
little gray man in the car?"
"Nope, it's even more mysterious than that.
You game or not, Scully?"
She paused. "Okay, where?"
"Our bench by the Potomac. As soon as you can
get there. I'm already on my way."
"Fine." Abruptly, she hung up.
I sat on the bench, jiggling my legs
impatiently. Five minutes for her to shut off
the computer, think evil thoughts of me, get
her coat on. Another five to get to the
garage, maybe ten if Skinner catches up with
her along the way. After that, about another
ten or fifteen minutes to get here. We'll say
twenty, in case there's traffic.
That half hour was the slowest of my life. I
didn't start to pace until forty-five minutes
had gone by. One
hour. One hour and twenty minutes. I tried to
reach her on her cell phone and got a polite
recording informing me that the cellular
customer I was trying to reach was unavailable.
I
tried back at the office---maybe she'd gotten
hung up with something. No answer. One hour
and thirty-five minutes. She should have been
here by now. I tried her apartment. "Hi, I
can't come to the phone right now, please leave
a message." Damn machine. One hour and forty
minutes. Scully wasn't anywhere.
Still clutching the peach rose in my hand, I
started for my car, my heart pounding.
Scully's voice echoed in my head as I ran:
"Mulder, I need your help! Mulder, help me!"
I couldn't outrun her cries. I jumped into the
car and careened out of there, wondering where
the hell I should look for her this time.
To be continued...
*****
Geez, don't ya just *hate* when they end like
that? It's my own special way of making sure
you guys stay tuned for Part 3...hehehe.
Comments, praise, etc. welcome at
From jenbird@earthlink.net Mon May 12 18:38:25 1997
Subject: "Us 3: Get This Love Untied" by Jennifer Maurer
From: Jennifer Maurer
--------
DISCLAIMERS: I don't need 'em this time because
MULDER AND SCULLY BELONG TO ME NOW,
HAHAHAHAHA...sorry, was that out loud? Those
darn voices in my head... Alas, M & S and Mrs.
S AND Skinner *still* belong to FOX, 1013, and
most especially Chris Carter, who's now
probably so rich from creating them that he can
*hire* people to go out and do his surfing for
him...sorry, Chris, just jealousy rearing its
ugly head.
SPOILERS: More references to "Wetwired" and
other cases mentioned in parts 1 and 2.
RATING: PG-13. Nope, sorry, not yet.
CLASSIFICATION: Scully vignette with a little
action once Mulder shows his face on the scene.
MSR, angst.
SUMMARY: Scully hangs up the phone with Mulder
after agreeing to meet him on their bench by
the Potomac, only she never shows up...
(sinister music swells in the background)
COMMENTS: More than welcome, as always, to
This part is dedicated to Della, who always
listens even when she doesn't really understand
what this X-Files thing is all about, and Greg,
who gives me big slobbery baby kisses:)
US 3/GET THIS LOVE UNTIED
by: Jennifer Maurer
"Letting go, it's so hard
The way it's hurting now
To get this love untied
So tough to stay with this thing
Cos if I follow through
I face what I denied
I'll get those hooks out of me
And I'll take out the hooks that I sunk deep in
your side
Kill that fear of emptiness, that loneliness I
hide
River oh river running deep
Bring me something that will let me get to
sleep
In the washing of the water will you take it
all away
Bring me something to take this pain away."
---Peter Gabriel, "The
Washing of the Water"
I slammed down the receiver with enough force
to put the whole phone through the desk.
So much for going upstairs to do
some research for a new case . Had I
actually told him I would meet him by the
Potomac? Forget that. He'd probably had this
secret rendezvous with the next Deep Throat
planned all along, so he could deal with it
himself. Why should I drop everything to
wander blind into a situation Mulder had
created---which no doubt meant it was
dangerous. No. This time he was on his own.
I knew when I didn't show up that Mulder would
worry about me, especially after all we'd been
through in the last few days . I sat down in his chair,
drumming my fingers on the desk. I
actually had his cell phone number halfway
dialed when I hung up.
I realized that I only wanted to get out of
here. Curl up under my quilt like a sick child
and just shut out the world. My famous Dana
Scully armor had too many cracks in it for me
to face Mulder now. It had been hard enough
coming into the office this morning and acting
normal. I snorted at the thought. One little
word <*normal*> and I'd felt Mulder's heart
snap shut like a steel trap. He was gone from
me, even though he was still standing there.
I shook my head. I wanted to go home and brood in
private. This was the first place Mulder would
look for me. I packed everything up and pulled
my coat on. I could finish up my work just as
easily at home. Let Mulder dig his own grave
with those expense forms.
My heart stopped at the knock on the door. I straightened my spine. Even if by some
odd chance it *was* him, I could hold up for a
few more minutes before I made my escape.
"Come in."
I don't think I'd ever been so glad to see
Skinner in my life, for the simple fact that he
*wasn't* Mulder. He paused, obviously slightly
taken aback at Mulder's absence and my ready-
to-leave attire.
"Agent Scully..." he looked around. "Where is
Agent Mulder?"
I sighed, falling into the familiar drill.
"I'm sorry, sir, I don't know where Agent
Mulder is. He said something about needing to
pull some files for the case you've assigned
us, but apparently he has left the building. I
have no idea where he is now."
Skinner's brows drew together in a confused
frown. "New case? Agent Scully, I haven't
assigned you two a new case yet. I'm still
waiting to get the report on the Schnauz case."
I felt my face start to burn. It wasn't as bad
as Mulder neglecting to brief me on our new
case, oh no. It was worse: he had *lied* to me
about their being any case at all. Which
probably meant he was off on another *solo*
wild adventure. I felt like an idiot, and in
front of my supervisor, no less. My anger at
this new unfolding of events gave me a burst of
cold energy, and I looked Skinner right in the
eye.
"I'm sorry sir, Agent Mulder led me to
believe
that you had assigned us a new X-File. I
haven't the faintest idea where he is now or
what he's doing, although I suspect it's
something neither of us would approve of."
Skinner's eyebrows shot up at that last remark.
I was half-shocked at the sarcasm coming out of
my mouth, and I drew a deep breath before I
continued, "If you don't mind, sir, I'd really
rather finish up my work at home today. I'm
nearly finished with the case report, I can e-
mail it to you within the hour. Agent Mulder
is responsible for the other work that needs to
be finished."
"That's fine, Agent Scully. You're not feeling
well?"
"No, sir, I'm fine."
"Very well. Don't bother about e-mailing the
case report, tomorrow on my desk will suffice.
If you hear from Agent Mulder, please inform
him that I'd like to see him."
"I will, sir. Thank you." I could tell from
Skinner's tone of voice that he was as angry
with Mulder as I was. I paused a moment
after Skinner left, looking around the office
I'd shared with Mulder for several years now.
His posters, his gruesome photographs, his
files, his desk. This was all about him. Where
did I fit in? *Did* I fit in? I knew I was
really asking myself this question on a
personal, not professional, level. For all his
overprotective reactions, I knew Mulder
respected me as an FBI agent. I sometimes
doubted myself, especially after an incident
like the one with Schnauz, but Mulder never
did. I had come into the X-Files in the middle
of his quest for the truth, but the search had
become mine as well. I had as much at stake now
as he did, maybe more. No, my feeling of not
belonging went deeper than the X-Files. In
fact, that might be the *only* place in
Mulder's life for me.
I wandered listlessly to my car, feeling more
dragged down with every step. I had gotten
zero sleep after Mulder took me home, tossing
and turning in my bed, unable to forget
how his lips had felt against mine, his hands
in my hair, on my body...I got in the car and
slammed the door harder than necessary. I thought I understood, finally,
why God told Eve not to eat the apple.
Knowledge is not always a good thing. Maybe I
should have been left to wonder the rest of my
life what kissing Mulder would feel like. I
had the knowledge now, and it didn't do me a
damn bit of good.
I pulled out of the garage faster than
necessary, startled to hear my tires squeal. I
made myself slow down and take deep breaths as
I pulled out into traffic. Despite my earlier
resolve, I still considered meeting Mulder on
our bench. I drove around the block a few
times, trying to make up my mind. I think I
*wished* I wanted to go. But the desire just
wasn't sincere. I really didn't want to be
around Mulder anymore right now. I just wasn't
up to it. Dealing with his rejection while
simultaneously trying to act like nothing had
happened after getting no sleep had simply worn
me out. I pulled over to the curb and
reached for my cell phone. I had half of his
number dialed when a wave of anger washed over
me and I jabbed the off button, suddenly
furious. How many times had Mulder done *me*
this courtesy? None sprang to mind. No, poor
Scully was always left behind, for one reason
or another...and then got nothing but wise-ass
remarks when I did finally track him down <"The
Last Detail, starring Dana Scully">. He only
wanted to protect me, it was too dangerous, he
couldn't betray his source...Mulder had a
million of them, and I'd swallowed every one
like a good girl. Never explain, never
complain. Mulder and I were the two halves of
that expression and I was getting tired of it.
<*Let* him worry> I thought as I pulled back
into traffic, <*let* him see how it feels to
have no idea where your partner is.> I turned
the cell phone off completely and tossed it
into the back seat of my car, ignoring the
rational part of me that whispered No, I told the voice, it
was insulting, and caring is not the same as
feeling guilty. I knew I was lying to myself
even as I said it. Mulder felt so guilty
*because* he cared.
I abruptly decided I didn't want to go home
after all. My apartment had seemed like a cage
over the last few days. I had slept (or tried
to, anyway) with the bedroom window open,
something I never do, simply because I could no
longer stand being completely sealed in. I
felt like a sardine with all the windows
shut...I felt like I was back inside Schnauz's
trailer. How had Mulder ever heard me in
there, with no windows? I jumped at the unexpected thought and
felt goose bumps rising on my skin. No, home
was not such a soothing option after all. I
wondered who else to turn to, and decided on my
mother. I thought briefly of the last time I
had gone to her <"Mom, I've made a terrible
mistake, Dad would be so ashamed of me...">,
when I'd thought Mulder dead in New Mexico. I
shuddered and turned up the heat in my car to
combat the shivering I couldn't control.
I turned towards my mother's house, with some
reluctance. I always hesitated when the urge to
confide in my mother came over me. Although
she would never admit it, I knew she didn't
want to hear about my work anymore, not after
Melissa's death and my abduction. She still
supported me, but preferred to do it without
knowing the details. I had suspected for awhile
now that my mother held secret hopes for Mulder
and I. She sometimes reminded me how
desperately he had searched for me when I was
gone. I knew by those kind of remarks that
Mulder meant a lot to her because Mom never
spoke of my abduction otherwise.
I pulled up in front of her house, feeling some
measure of relief replace the nagging guilt
that I had felt since switching off my phone.
I was only half-way up the front walk when the
door swung open and Mom stood there, looking
absolutely petrified. I assumed she was
startled to see me at her house in the middle
of the day and hurried over to reassure her.
"Mom, it's okay---"
She cut me of by grabbing me in a tight hug. I
could feel her trembling in my arms and rubbed
her back. I let her go so we could both step
inside and shut the door. Mom looked me up and
down, still clutching my arm.
"Dana, thank God you're all right, I was so
worried..."
"I know this is kind of a surprise visit, Mom,
I just needed to talk."
She frowned in confusion. "That's why you're
here?"
"Yes...is there a problem?"
"No, of course not, honey, it's just that after
Fox called here looking for you, I assumed the
worst."
Now it was my turn to frown. "*Mulder* called
you looking for me?"
"Yes, he said you were supposed to meet him
somewhere and never showed up. He's looking
everywhere for you, Dana, he was frantic. He
said your cell phone was turned off and he
couldn't imagine why."
I pulled away from Mom and walked into the
living room, trying to hold on to the last
vestiges of my anger to keep from drowning in
guilt. I
paused in the living room and shut my eyes to
stop the tears. I was overwhelmed by memories
of the last time I had stood in the living
room, pointing my gun at Mulder...then at my
mother, who had stepped in front of him. <"I
told you, Mom, he's here to kill me...Mom, just
get out of the way!"> Mulder had looked at me
sadly, silently, after it had become obvious
his words <"Scully, you are the *only* one I
trust."> were not getting through to me. I had
screamed at him, accused him of being part of
the plot to abduct me and kill Melissa.
"Dana, honey...?" Mom came up behind me and
put a hand on my shoulder. Once again, it was
my first name that broke me, and I started
sobbing. Mom turned me around and held me,
murmuring soft words of comfort in my ear,
rocking me back and forth. When I calmed down
she looked into my face for a moment.
"This is about Fox, isn't it?"
I nodded, tears pooling in my eyes again.
"Dana, why did you run from him again?"
*Again* I had never considered the fact that
this wasn't my first time running from Mulder.
In these circumstances, yes...but I *had*
avoided him before, if not to this extent.
After he'd shot Schnauz, I'd brushed past him
and walked away. I could barely handle him
calling me "Dana" for God's sake. The first
few times he'd done that, right after Ahab
died, I'd flinched every time. He didn't try
it again anytime soon. I shrugged and dropped
down onto the couch, unable to answer my
mother's question in words.
"Well, give me your coat and just relax here
for awhile. Want me to make us some tea?"
God, she sounded like Mulder last night,
offering me tea and sympathy. I bit my lip to
stop it from quivering and shook my head.
"Will you at least let me call Fox and tell him
you're okay?"
I nodded. I was going to have to face him
eventually; in the meantime, easing his worries
was the least I could do.
"Okay, then." She patted my shoulder as she
walked by and I reached up and grabbed her hand
and squeezed it.
"Mom, I'm sorry I scared you."
"I know, honey. Sometimes when we're upset we
do things without thinking how it will affect
others." She kissed the top of my head and
left the room to call Mulder. I sighed and
pressed my fingertips to my swollen eyes. I'd
cried more in the past few days than any other
time in recent memory, and it bothered me.
Acting irrationally seemed to be the story of
my life these days. I could hear her in the
next room, despite the efforts she made to
speak quietly. "Fox, it's Margaret Scully.
Yes, she's here. Mmm-hmm, she just got here.
No, she's fine. Yes, I promise. Well, why don't
you just go back to work and...no, I
understand. That's fine, then. All right,
Fox, I'll tell her. Okay, goodbye."
My stomach started doing flip flops and I
managed to restrain myself for two whole
seconds after Mom walked back in and sat down
next to me.
"What did Mulder say?"
"He's on his way here, he wants to see you."
"What..." I swallowed the lump in the throat,
"...what did he want you to tell me?"
Mom looked at me sadly for a moment before she
answered.
"That he loves you."
I felt my face crumple and tears start again.
Part of me was so happy to hear that, while
another, annoyed part of me thought,
"Mom, everything is so messed up with Mulder
and me..."
She pulled me into her arms and stroked my
hair. Mom let me go and sat back to look
at me.
"Do you love him, Dana?"
"Maybe...I don't know, Mom. I think so."
She raised her eyebrows, unsuccessfully hiding
a small smile.
"You think so?"
I sighed. Never could get one past Mom.
"Yes, I love him. I'm *in* love with him. And
please don't look so satisfied, Mom, it's not
going as well as you might like."
"What happened?"
"I was having a bad day, and I called Mulder to
talk. I would have called you, but..." I
trailed off. How could I tell her that I chose
not to confide in her because of our unspoken
agreement not to discuss my work? Was there
even such an agreement or was it all my doing?
Would Mom be hurt that I had chosen Mulder over
her? My mother reassured me by squeezing my
hand.
"I know you don't tell me everything, Dana. I
understand there are some things you only want
to discuss with Fox."
I smiled my thanks at her and continued. "So
we talked, you know, and I felt a lot better.
It's always so hard for me to open up to
anyone, but that night it was easier. Just him
being there, holding me while I cried, helped
me. We'd just finished this case---" I stopped
at the change I saw in my mother's face. She
was torn between wanting to stop me and wanting
to be there for me. I continued as if I hadn't
noticed, "It was a difficult one, and I was
tired. Maybe so tired that I didn't know what
I was doing..." I trailed off and looked down
at my mother's hand in mine, not wanting to
look at her.
"What did you do, honey?"
"I, um...kissed him. Or maybe he kissed me, I
don't really remember. Well, whoever started
it doesn't matter, we kissed each other for
awhile." I felt my face burning and sneaked a
glance up at Mom. She could barely contain her
smile.
"Mom, please stop looking like the cat who ate
the canary."
She made a serious attempt to sober up.
"Sorry, sweetheart."
"So then Mulder got up, and suggested that I
get some sleep. I hadn't been sleeping well
lately, and he thought maybe I didn't know what
I was doing."
"Did you?"
"Mom! Of course I did!"
"Okay," she crooned, stroking my hair again. I
leaned into her hand, grateful for the caress.
I sighed (for the millionth time, it felt like)
and continued.
"I fell asleep in Mulder's bed---*alone*" I
stressed, seeing the corners of her mouth quirk
up, "And when I woke up, he had dinner ready."
Mom's eyebrows shot up and I thought how much
we resembled each other with that one
particular facial expression.
"Chinese," I said.
"Oh, I was wondering when Fox had learned to
cook."
I laughed. "I had the same thought. It was
really nice, Mom, he had wine and real plates.
Which for Mulder is saying a lot."
"Sounds like a very romantic evening."
"It was...for awhile. We started kissing
again, and really...got into it. Then I slid
into the sink---"
There went her eyebrows again. "The sink?"
I felt myself grinning at the memory. "Yeah,
it wouldn't have been so bad, except it was
still full of water..."
"You mean, the kitchen sink like in that awful
movie where they boiled the rabbit?"
"Yeah," I laughed, remembering that I had
thought much the same thing. "Mulder boosted
me up onto the counter, because he's so much
taller than me, and I slid backwards into the
sink while we were kissing."
"And he got upset?"
"No, not at that point. Not until I made a
joke about how we couldn't even make out like
normal people. Then the walls came up. He
just took me home." I felt tears sting my eyes
again. "He wouldn't even talk about it with me
this morning, Mom, he just pretended it never
happened."
"Did you give him a chance to talk about it?"
"He had all morning, all we did was do
paperwork for Skinner until Mulder left. He
said he had to run upstairs to pull some files
for our new case, but later he called me from
his phone and asked me to meet him somewhere.
Then just as I was about to leave Skinner came
in, and told me we don't *have* a new case yet.
So Mulder lied to me. I just couldn't face
him, Mom...so I came here."
"Without telling Fox?"
The tears spilled over and my voice cracked, "I
was just so mad at him, Mom, for lying to
me...and he *never* calls me when *he* goes
running off somewhere. He just vanishes and
leaves me to wonder. I wanted him to know what
it felt like."
"I think he already does, honey," she said
softly, and I knew she was referring to my
abduction.
"I know," I answered, "And it was such a stupid
thing to do, I didn't mean to be so cruel to
him. Mulder frustrates me sometimes but this
was not the way to let him know. He's going to
be so angry..."
"He might understand if you *talked* to him,
Dana." Mom suggested.
"It's so hard," I said, "Mulder puts his walls
up and I can tell just by looking at his face
that he's a million miles away."
"You do too, sometimes, honey."
"Yeah. We're both pretty good at that. Which
is why a relationship with him would never
work."
"You won't know that unless you try."
"I'd rather not try and not get hurt."
Mom tipped her head to the side and looked at
me questioningly. "That doesn't sound like
you, Dana. You have never been afraid to take
chances."
"This is different, Mom. This could destroy
both us."
"You're both stronger than that."
I shook my head. "I don't know, Mom. This
scares me more than anything Mulder and I have
ever been through. I could lose him forever
because of this."
Our conversation ended just then with a knock
on the door. My stomach immediately twisted
into a knot and I convulsively squeezed Mom's
hand. She rose from the couch and kissed the
top of my head before pulling her hand from my
grasp and going to answer the door. I heard
her and Mulder exchange greetings as I huddled
into a corner of the couch, wishing I could
just crawl under the cushions and disappear.
He walked into the room alone, warily, as if
expecting me to be waiting with my gun again.
I winced at the thought as he came over and sat
down on the other end of the couch.
"Hi," he said softly.
"Hi," I whispered back.
"You all right?"
I nodded.
"Your mom left, she thought we needed some
time."
I nodded again.
"What happened, Scully?"
I gulped. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't be
there."
"Why not?"
"Mulder, why are you pretending that last night
never happened?"
His eyes widened at the sudden change of topic.
"Is *that* what this is about?"
"Yes. Among other things."
"Jesus Christ, Scully, I was out of my mind
worrying about you---"
I cut him off coldly, hardly believing what I
was saying, "You have a funny way of showing
it."
"What the hell is *that* supposed to mean? I
was frantic, you weren't answering your cell
phone---"
"I'm surprised you even remember the number."
He stared at me, open-mouthed. "What is
*wrong* with you?"
"Nothing," I replied icily, feeling my guilt
dissipate as my anger renewed itself, "It's
just that you don't often do me the courtesy of
keeping me informed of your whereabouts."
"That's not true---"
"Mulder, it *is* and you know it! How many
times have you run off somewhere, leaving me to
cover your ass with Skinner? He came down to
the office looking for you, and once *again* I
had to inform him that I had no idea where you
were. You weren't running upstairs to pull
files for our new case because there *is* no
new case!"
"So this little disappearing act was your way
of getting back at me for making you look
stupid in front of Skinner?"
"No!"
"Then what was it, Scully? Some new mind
game?"
"I have *never* played mind games with you,
Mulder."
"Oh, bullshit. That's what they sent you to the
basement to do, isn't it? Fuck with my mind?"
I flinched at the reference to our first
meeting, when Mulder had accused me of being a
spy. That was their intent, but it didn't turn
out that way. I was on *his* side. Didn't he
know that by now?
"Mulder, you know---"
He rose and towered over me, glaring. "I don't
know anything, Scully! Right now I feel like I
don't even know *you*. The Dana Scully *I*
know would *never* have pulled a dumb stunt
like this! Childish games have never been
your style." He turned and stalked angrily to
the door. I got to my feet, anxious to stop
him from leaving in the middle of this quarrel.
I always hated not being able to resolve a
conflict with Mulder. I called out to him in a
way I knew would freeze him in his tracks.
"Fox!"
It worked. He stopped, paused. Then turned
back to me, his face still dark with anger.
His eyes narrowed.
"I told you NEVER to call me that! I'm
leaving. Just stay away from me for awhile,
Scully." He turned again to go, then paused
with his hand on the doorknob. I hurried
over, hoping he would stay and hear me out. He
pulled something from his pocket.
"Oh, by the way," he snarled, "You're right, I
lied about there being a new case. I wasn't at
the library, I was out getting you *this*."
Something hit me in the face, then dropped to
the floor. I leaned over to pick it up. It
was a peach rose wrapped in tissue paper. It
was crushed from being jammed in Mulder's
pocket. I stared at it, in shock.
"Mulder--"
He didn't hear me. He'd already left and
slammed the door.
************
End 03/??
Well, it's not as nerve-wracking as the last
ending, right? Thanks to everyone who told me
I was evil for doing that. I took it as a
compliment:) I think this is going to have 5
parts. You'll know when I know! Feedback,
kudos and candy bars welcome to