*Eight*
At some time during the night, an curiously familiar thing happened – I woke to find myself once again on the floor. With a groan, I crawled back into the bed and discovered that I had pushed over and shattered the lamp on the table. Brilliant. There came a knock at the door, followed by a muffled "Mulder!"
I stumbled toward the door and let a bathrobe-clad Scully into the room.
"Mulder, what happened? You broke the lamp."
"I know." I sat back down on the edge of the bed, and she sat beside me.
"Did you have a nightmare or something?"
I thought for a moment. "I don't know." It was too dark for her to see the glazed-doughnut look on my face (gee, a light would've been handy ... ). "I don't remember."
"Are you hurt?" she asked, resting her hand on my shoulder. I shook my head. "Do you remember any more about ...?" I shook my head again.
"Shouldn't you be asleep?" I asked.
"I was. And then I wasn't. And then you ... did the lamp ... thing."
"Sorry," I said, my voice low.
"'S okay." Through the slits of the Venetian blinds, sapphire light was cast on her profile. My eyes had adjusted, and I perceived the dark as several shades of blue. I really couldn't remember exactly what I'd been dreaming about, but looking at her like that, I had a feeling that it involved her in some way. Which is not unusual – after working with someone for six years you kind of give her her own file in your unconscious, so she can go beyond merely symbolising a facet of yourself. I'll admit Scully is a central figure in my dreams. But that's all I'll admit.
Scully stretched her arms out in front of her, catlike, and said, "I better go back to bed."
But just as she was about to stand up, I touched her arm, and promptly forgot what I was going to say. "Wait." Pause. The light was azure in her eyes, azure being a drunken-sounding word, and her eyes being intoxicating. I slid my hand up her arm, traced a finger along her collarbone, and leaned in, kissing her neck quietly. She didn't move, didn't pull away and slap me or – worse – tell me why that was so wrong, such a stupid thing to do, Mulder you know better. I stopped and looked up at her.
"Goodnight Mulder," she said. Then she kissed my cheek and left.
I bent down to pick up the pieces of the lamp.
well don't stop now