Author: Angela W.
Timespan/Spoilers: Set early in Season Seven.
place between the time Mulder gets out of the hospital
and the "One Week Later" epilogue during
"The Sixth Extinction II". Spoilers for both
"The Sixth Extinction" and "The Sixth
Extinction II" and a tiny, non-spoiler reference to
the events of "Colony/End Game".
Summary: Mulder, still able to read minds, spends
night at Scully's apartment.
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. They
the property of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions.
Archive: Feel free to archive anywhere!
Feedback: If it's nice or contains *constructive*
criticism. If you're just not a shipper, don't read
I'm tired, but it's
a good tired. Not the
artificially induced exhaustion of the drugs I was
being fed at the hospital.
are you okay?" Scully asks gently. I watch
closely to make sure her lips are moving. The
telepathy is begining to fade somewhat, but several
times today she has already caught me answering
questions she hasn't yet asked. She doesn't
particularly care for it.
I'm learning, can't be turned on and off
like a faucet. It's pretty much like the sense of
hearing. You have to make an effort to tune things
out. Sort of like working in a crowded office where
you have to concentrate on your own computer screen
and ignore the conversations eddying around you. Which I
can do, pretty well, except that every once in a while
Scully emits the psychic equivalent of a scream.
while I was in the hospital, it was "Are you
okay? Please be okay! Mulder, I'm here. We can fight
this, but I need you to help me." Later, when
I first began to recover, it was "You're okay! I'm
so happy!" This was accompanied by that radiant
smile I have to nearly die to get from her. The one I
first saw all those years ago in an Alaskan hospital.
Today, it's just been the same four words over and over
at frequent intervals. Four words I didn't think I'd
ever hear from and, techically speaking, still haven't.
"I love you, Mulder." Except sometimes she
varies it slightly by thinking, "I love you,
just tired, Scully."
nods and we walk into her apartment. "Come on,
Mulder," she says, tugging gently on my hand. We
enter the bedroom and she pulls down the covers. I strip
down to my boxer-briefs and tumble gladly into bed.
know, Scully, sometime we're going to have to
try sharing this bedroom when neither of us is near
death," I quip.
shut up," she says vocally. But that's not
what her thoughts are saying. It's like trying to
watch TV and listen to the radio at the same time. Her
voice tells me to shut up, but her mind answers,
"Yes, Mulder. Sometime soon. But not tonight. We're
both too tired. All I want to do is lie beside you, hold
you, know that you're safe in my arms."
strips down to a tank top and panties, then
climbs in beside me. "Go to sleep, Mulder,"
and this time there is no dissonance. Mentally, as
well as vocally, she expresses her desire for me to
my breathing, calmed by her presence. I try
not to listen to her thoughts, I really do. It's an
invasion of privacy. But as we both grow sleepy, my
control slips and her thoughts come tumbling into my
He's asleep. Now I can snuggle up to him."
This thought is followed immediately by action. Scully
moves closer, slides one arm up across my back and over
my chest and slips one of her legs between both of mine.
She buries her nose in the hair at the nape of my neck
and nuzzles me with a contented sigh. I fight the urge
to entwine my fingers with the ones now gently caressing
my chest. If I do that, she'll know I'm still awake.
Through the thin cotton of her top, I can feel her
breasts pressing against my back. I'm enjoying this
immensely, but Scully's right. We are too tired to take
things any further.
we share a dream. It's her dream; it
originates deep within her subconscious, but flows
effortlessly into my mind as we sleep. We're at the
beach with our children. A little girl about five or
six, who looks almost exactly like Samantha did at
that age. Thank you, Scully, I mentally murmur. Thank
you for dreaming us a daughter who looks like the
little sister I lost so long ago. Then - and I swear I
can almost hear Scully laughing at this - we have a
little boy about two. He looks like nothing so much as
miniature version of Bill Junior.
wake up when Scully does. Her thoughts are
murmuring softly into my mind. "He looks younger
he sleeps. More like the man I first met all those
years ago. I love you so much, Mulder. I wish you'd
wake up and kiss me."
roll over so that we are facing each other, then
put one of my hands to her face. I kiss her lips
gently then say, "I love you so much, too,
Suddenly, I find myself flat on my back and Scully
sitting up on the other side of the bed, clutching a
pillow, her blue eyes sparking flames. "WHAT did
say?" she demands.
said I love you, Scully," I repeat, refusing to
you didn't! ," she hollers. "You said "I
so much, too, Scully!" You were ANSWERING me! Damn
it, Mulder, you were reading my mind, weren't you? You
promised you wouldn't!"
Guess I've just been caught redhanded. "I'm
not doing it on purpose, Scully. Sometimes it's hard
to control. Especially when we're both
else?" she demands.
other thoughts of mine have you been
in the hospital, you kept telling me to get
well. To come out of the coma and help you fight. That
you were there for me. Scully, I think you WANTED me to
hear you! You were. . .it's like the telepathic
equivalent of screaming."
nods slowly. "I did want you to hear me. I was
saying the same things verbally."
when I finally came out, you were. . .I
can't even explain it, Scully. You were too happy to
form coherent sentences. It's like there were stars
exploding inside your mind."
nods again. "I was happy you were better. Very
good. Hold onto that thought, Scully. Remember,
you're *HAPPY* that I'm alive! You don't want to shoot
else?" she repeats, but her voice is softer
most of yesterday. . .honestly, Scully, I was
trying not to listen in on your thoughts. But it's
like trying not to eavesdrop on somebody else's
conversation in the bullpen. You can do it, but not
when the other person starts screaming."
was I quote screaming unquote?"
what you just said, I mean thought, a minute
ago. Except sometimes you were calling me Fox. I
didn't know you ever did that, Scully."
*MY* thoughts, Mulder! I can call you
whatever I want!"
know. It's okay."
else?" she inquires.
this one is really, REALLY not my fault,
Scully. Because I was asleep and had no control over
it. But, um, I got to share your dream last night."
really. I mean sort of, vaguely. It was a happy
dream. Your memory's better than mine, though. What
was it about?"
I'm not sure. . ."
if the dream was mine, I have a right to
know about it!"
were at the beach with the kids."
take a deep breath and hope she continues to
remember that she's happy I'm alive. "OUR kids,
Scully. A little girl who looked like Samantha and a
little boy who - and this is not a nice thing to do to
me, Scully - a little boy who looks like Bill
laughs softly at that . "Well, I can't help the
images my subconscious comes up with, Mulder. She
looks like Samantha because I'm used to looking at
that picture you have in the office of you and
Samantha when you were kids. And he looks like Bill
because the only little boy I know really well is my
not sitting up on the other side of the bed,
clutching a pillow for dear life anymore. During the
course of the conversation, she gradually loosened her
hold on the pillow and eventually put it back in its
place. Now she's lying down again, with one arm curved
up over her head.
you're doing it again," I inform her.
what, Mulder?" she asks. She's not mad
anymore. She's smiling at me.
psychic version of yelling at the top of your
she asks, lifting her eyebrow in a
skeptical manner. "What am I thinking?"
scoot closer, so that I am leaning over her. Our
noses are almost touching as I gaze into her eyes.
"You're thinking," I whisper, "that you
want," I move
my face lower, "me to do," I brush her lips
with mine, "this." As our lips meet
there are stars
exploding in Scully's mind again. Or maybe they're in
my mind this time. Or maybe - probably - in both of