TITLE: Middle of the Night
AUTHOR: Hiding in the Light
(
hidinginthelight@hotmail.com) http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/6956/Homepage.htm
CATEGORY: R,V,A,H (MSR, Vignette, touch of Angst
and Humor)
SUMMARY: "all things" post-ep. Scully awakens in
Mulder's apartment in the middle of the night. She soon finds
she's not the only one awake.
SPOILERS: Post-ep story for 'all things'. Some references to Chinga, FTF, DII
RATED: PG (D word used twice, that's as rough as
it gets)
ARCHIVE: Sure! Just drop me a URL so I can visit
and keep
headers attached.
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance, "all things"
post-ep story
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never in a million years.
Mulder and Scully
are property of Chris Carter and 1013, I just borrow
them so this
shipper can rest peacefully at night.
FEEDBACK: "Just pick up the mouse and make it
happen!" Flames
will be used to light a Morley after you "vanish
without a trace."
:o)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, I thought all things was
stunning! It's been
on my mind since it aired and my poor Moby CD is
worn out. Finally
I gave up fighting the urge, and decided to try a
post-ep piece. I
haven't actually published anything on the web yet,
but I consider
this my second story since my first has already had
a year's worth
of time put into it. This is just a quick break
from it. This
story is more serious than my usual style, and
normally I run from
stories that have lyrics included in it as a
theme...but come on,
this is Moby we're talking about. The song actually
inspired what
you'll find below, so I may skip a repeated lyric or
two, but if I
didn't this thing would be way too long (as if I'm
not long winded
enough), so enjoy!
Lyrics from "The Sky is Broken" is from Moby's
"Play" CD. Also
Featured in "all things." http://www.moby.org
Started: April 12, 2000
Finished: April 14, 2000
Thanks to Boxers, DD4me2, and Haskell for beta
reading! You all are
the best for putting up with all of my questions and
requests!
~ See the storm is broken
In the middle of the night ~
Scully's eyelids fluttered, reality gently entering
her body as
conscious thoughts flooded her senses. A dull,
metallic sound had
spoiled her much needed sleep, tiredness immediately
creeping back
into her bones. Her heavy lashes begged to remain
weaved together,
sleep annihilating her thoughts faster than she
could retaliate
against it. The small of her back ached for relief,
her right leg
numb of circulation from her awkward position, but
the desire for
sleep outweighed the pained cries from her body.
She leaned back
purposefully, welcoming the vast darkness spreading
through her
thoughts at a rapid pace, bringing soothing comfort,
calm.
Vinyl against wood. The sound plunged into her
eardrums like a
train charging straight at her, its tone unmerciful,
persistent.
Her ice-blue eyes opened, angry and irritated for
the invasion. Her
irises registered the blue-green haze of a shadowy
room, her eyes
darting to its corners to focus on the only
available light source.
The watery, rectangular existence immediately
registered in her
conscious thoughts.
Mulder.
She was at Mulder's.
She remembered.
Her hand automatically reached out, coming in
contact with icy,
slick leather, hopes shattered of a warm, sleeping
body being there.
Her last thoughts had been of him, talking to her
with gentle tones,
listening as she weaved the day's very strange
events before him.
They had stretched out their feet on his coffee
table, the wood
darkened with age, her pantyhose slippery against
the slick varnish.
Her unpleasantly dry throat had welcomed a cup of
steaming hot tea.
The warm liquid satisfyingly washing through her
limbs, bringing
life back into her sore muscles. They had talked,
relaxed together.
She could feel Mulder's dark hazel eyes making a
poor attempt at
staying expressionless as she, Dr. Science herself,
had explained
her attempt to use a healer to rescue Daniel from
his coma, to bring
him back from the warm breath of immortality. It
had worked.
Two more crisp knocks against wood broke her
reflections, her eyes
focusing on Mulder's window. It had been left open,
the Venetian
blind fluttering like a leaf on a tree. The winds
outside howled a
clarion call, heart-rendering and solitary as the
rumbling bass of
thunder uttered its discontent.
Scully caressed the thick, wooly Navajo blanket
strewn across her,
knowing the hands and the care that had placed it
there. She slowly
moved it to the side. A slight shiver crept down
her spine and down
her arms, as if someone had just run the blade of a
knife over her
skin. The icy wind from the storm invaded the
blanket's warmth in a
matter of seconds as she slowly rose to her feet.
The bluish-green light from the aquarium surrounded
her like an aura
as her feet padded inaudibly against Mulder's
chilly, hardwood
floor. She leaned across his desk, papers askew,
raindrops
splattered randomly across them as the blind
continued to bob at the
mercy of the wind. Her hand reached for the window
pane, her skin
brushing across a soft material on the desk. She
paused, looking
down, reality striking her with a fierce blow.
Stonehenge Rocks.
~ Nothing left here for me
it's washed away ~
That had been Mulder's adventure, his quest. She
had openly thrown
out her skepticism, her mockery, at him that
afternoon in the
office. He had wanted to cross the Atlantic to
investigate crop
circles...right after they finished up a case on a
drowning due to
Margarita mix. Crop circles, exsanguinations,
hexes, cannibalism,
mutants, little green men...these were Mulder's
paranormal
investigations where she had been there to keep him
honest, to keep
him a whole person. This was how their partnership
worked. Her
science and strict rationalism kept him on track,
kept their work
balanced. They never planned on crossing to the
other's side, their
wills too strong, their passions too great. And
yet, she had
believed. She crossed the line the moment she sat
down before the
Buddha in the temple. She had seen the summation of
her life's
choices flash before her, then the cause of Daniel's
sickness and
despair. She had called in a man to spiritually
heal her former
love, in a last attempt, an attempt on something she
couldn't prove
or rationalize. When Daniel had awoken again, she
had been
grateful for the unknown forces she had put her
faith into. What
bearing would that hold on her investigative work
with her partner?
What happens when the scales are slightly off
balance?
~ The rain pushes
the buildings aside
the sky turns black ~
A gust of wind pelted a mist of droplets across
Scully's pale,
smooth-skinned face. Her locks of auburn hair
billowed from her
scalp as the coolness washed through her. She
reached over and
pulled two slats down with her index finger, the
plastic cracking
and subsiding under the light force. Her eyes
peered through the
gap, assessing the strength of the storm. Quick,
fat raindrops
glittered in the dim light of a streetlamp below,
unmercifully
pounding the saturated earth while the wind swirled
and deterred
them into a chaotic pattern. The clouds were thick
and black in the
night sky, visible for a brief moment when a flash
of lightning sent
its white network of veins snapping across, leaving
them once again
hidden, their fury unknown.
"Damn." Scully whispered, her dry lips barely
moving. Driving
conditions could not have been worse, and here she
was, stuck at
Mulder's in the middle of the night. Her body ached
for her own
bed, for the soft goose-down comforter she could
wrap her tired
limbs around and away from the icy chill of the
raging storm. She
loved the rain when she at home, listening to the
musical patter
against the shingles, a gentle symphony that never
failed to lull
her to sleep. But here, the rain was her enemy,
trapping her from
reaching that warm, safe destination. Here a cold,
lumpy couch
awaited her, leering at the possibilities of how
cramped and sore
her back would be by morning.
~ The sky
wash it far
push it out to sea ~
A defeated sigh escaped from her lips as she reached
up and slid the
window shut. The bone-chilling gusts suddenly
ended, a peaceful
silence returning. The drone of the tiny aquarium
motor hummed
steadily, tiny flecks of gold and silver darting
inside, oblivious
to the world outside their glass walls.
She retreated to the kitchen, feet colliding with
ice-cold tile as
she reached up to turn the stove light on. The
weak, yellow light
from the bulb cast shadows against the takeout bags
strewn across
the Formica countertop, a load of dishes swaying
dangerously like
the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the sink. She resisted
the urge to
rescue the fragile Corelle pieces, a wan smile
briefly touching her
lips. This was Mulder. If the kitchen had been
spotless, she would
know immediately it wasn't by him. And almost a
year ago, after a
quick use of innuendo and handcuffs, she had been
right in her
assumption. The refrigerator was covered in a
collage of newspaper,
pictures, and tape as Scully quietly opened the door
to peer inside.
She searched for a cold liquid to sooth her dry
mouth, her eyes
stopping on a lone carton. Orange juice. Well,
that would work.
She lifted the carton from the shelf, popping open
the flap only to
immediately extend it away from her face. She
squinted to read the
expiration:
Oct '97.
"Mulder!" Scully whispered in a frustrated tone,
shoving
it back on the shelf and slamming the door. Typical
Mulder, she
reminded herself. The lukewarm water from the tap
would have to
do...now, all she had to do was find a clean glass.
~ I watch it lift up to the sky
I watch it crush me
and then I die ~
Thunder rumbled the very foundation of Mulder's
building, the wind
relentless in it's fury. Everything happens for a
reason. "What if
there was only one choice and all the other ones
were wrong? And
there were signs along the way to pay attention to?"
This is what
she had asked, had learned by her past catching up
to her. Since
when had Dana Scully started believing to follow her
heart and not
her mind when it came down to life's paths? That
was something her
sister had believed in, had sounded like a greeting
card every time
she brought it up. How could it have all changed in
the course of a
day? Had it been there all along, she had just been
moving too fast
to turn around and stare it in the face? She could
feel these very
questions gnawing at her soul as she downed another
mouthful of
tepid water. Her identity had always been a
scientist, believing in
physical evidence, being professional,
down-to-earth. Her partner
had always been the 'spooky' one, but the day's
events left her
feeling spooked at herself. Her very core had been
altered, she had
opened her heart to the unexplained, allowed it to
seep into her
soul, her hopes. She had clung to the Dana Scully
of science for
years, and this breach of contract with her persona
left her
confused, terrified. She had to slow down. She was
passing by so
many opportunities, so many choices that life
offered for her. She
was a changed woman from ten years ago, she knew
without a doubt,
but how many chances had she missed? For her? For
her and her
partner? What had she secretly wanted when she had
announced to
Mulder that she was leaving the bureau two years
ago? What caused
her to make the split-second decision to come by his
apartment to
say her good-byes? She knew the answer...she had
always known the
answer. It had been a last chance...a journey her
heart had taken
her on. She had desperately wanted him to stop her,
not just with
his hands or persuasive words, but with love.
The dark night had brought dangerous thoughts to her
mind, the heavy
glass making a loud clunk on the speckled gray
countertop as she
released it from her grip. She hurriedly switched
off the stove
light, her need to leave her partner's apartment
growing at an
exponential rate.
Nature called.
The cup of tea from earlier that night had
undoubtedly began
straining against her bladder. She knew where the
bathroom
was...knew who she had to get by in order to reach
the destination.
A debate unfolded on which was more important, the
tea ultimately
winning after the internal civil war. She would
make it quick,
inaudible, then she would escape into the pounding
rain and howling
wind to blindly drive back to her home, praying that
she wouldn't
end up a telephone pole in the process.
The heavy wood door was ajar, inviting.
Scully's fingertips pushed against the coolness,
feeling the
slightest of breezes wash around her. His window
was open, but just
a crack as tiny storm gusts whistled their way
through. The
streetlamp from outside his window cast an extremely
dim white glow
across the room. It was just enough light for
Scully to navigate
the clothes puddled at her feet, but her eyes acted
like magnets,
moving straight for the silhouette laying peacefully
beneath a
quilted, blue silk comforter. She stood like a
statue in the
darkness, eyeing the steady rise and fall of chest,
hearing the slow
intakes and expulsion of breath through gentle
nostrils. She
searched the masculine face of her partner, finding
a relaxed,
peaceful expression of sleep etched across each
curvature and
recess. Scully tiptoed purposefully toward the
bathroom, her eyes
snaking back to memorize her sleeping partner in
different angles,
hoping not to wake him.
~ Speak to me baby
in the middle of the night ~
"You don't have to be such a church mouse, Scully.
I'm still
awake."
Scully inhaled a sharp breath, her heart drumming
wildly. Damn his
insomnia.
His voice was lazy with sleep, Scully assessing that
her presence
had entered the room just minutes before he had
entered the
unconscious world.
"I heard you in the kitchen." He continued, his legs
slowly rustling
underneath the covers, "I hope you didn't try the
orange juice."
Scully allowed a smile to play at her lips in the
darkness. "Mulder,
there have been quarantines warranted for less than
that."
She could feel Mulder's hazel eyes sparkle as he
propped his head up
with an elbow, the covers slipping down to his
waist, his bare chest
becoming exposed in the white light. She couldn't
deny her eyes the
firm muscles etched and molded like a fine Roman
sculpture.
Although she had seen his chest numerous times
before, it had always
been in a different context. This time he wasn't
sick or injured,
just leisurely resting in his bed, in his home.
The winds bellowed outside.
She had to get out of there.
"You know what's strange," he continued, her eyes
immediately
flickering to his own, "Every time I catch a re-run
of American
Bandstand that carton enters my mind."
"Well I wouldn't be surprised if it grew legs and
joined you on the
couch." Scully countered, taking another step closer
to the dark pit
of the bathroom.
Mulder emitted a feathery chuckle, a rolling crack
of thunder
drowning out the last notes as he continued to watch
his partner's
movements in the darkness of his bedroom. Her steps
were quiet and
silky--her actions betraying a storm of emotion
whipping wildly just
beneath her skin. He patiently waited for her to
speak.
After a strained pause, Scully expertly pulled her
thoughts into
patented form. "Get some sleep, Mulder, I didn't
mean to wake you.
I just needed a quick run to the bathroom and then
I'm heading
home."
Mulder's dark eyebrows raised inquiringly. "In this
weather? Have
you looked outside lately?"
Of course she had, she told herself, gritting her
teeth and making a
lunge for the safety of the bathroom. The sooner
she stopped the
small-talk, the sooner she would be out of there.
She could get
some rest in the sanctity of her home, build back
the strength she
needed to keep her emotions subdued. "It's fine,
Mulder."
Her voice echoed amongst the yellowed bathroom walls
as the door
shut with a bang. Mulder waited patiently for her
to return,
gearing up for a battle of wills. She was not going
out driving in
such a wrath of nature. It was ridiculous.
Scully returned a few minutes later, the bathroom
light searing
Mulder's eyesight when the door swung open. She
quickly switched
off the vanity light, Mulder's expression reflecting
one that she
had made minutes ago herself. She took advantage of
Mulder's sudden
blindness by making a bee-line for the living room,
blinking rapidly
for her pupils to adjust to the thick darkness of
the bedroom.
"Hey, Scully, where are you going?" Mulder asked,
the rustling of
covers and sloshing water indicating that he had
suddenly sat up.
"Home, Mulder." Scully sighed as if she were
explaining it for the
tenth time, her eyes darting back for a glance at
her partner.
"Why don't you wait until the weather clears up? I
know my couch
isn't The Ritz, so take my bed...I'll go sleep on
the couch." He
insisted with gentle tones caressing Scully's ears.
"Just...stay."
Scully could feel the warmth spread in her cheeks,
her muscles
burning at an attempt not to smile. Her squared
shoulders were
already melting, butterflies clenching the pit of
her stomach. "I
don't want you to get out of bed because of me.
This is your place,
Mulder, you should sleep where you want."
"It's not like I've never slept out there before.
It'll be like old
times. My couch needs a trip down memory lane every
now and then."
His back was turned toward the window, his face
swathed in darkness,
unreadable from where she was standing. But she
didn't need to see
his face with her eyes, feeling a warm smile
radiating straight
across the room, surrounding her with hot flames,
drawing her in.
"Alright, Mulder." She exhaled in a whisper, "I'll
take the couch
and wait until it stops raining."
She was surprised by Mulder's chortle of laughter.
"Scully, I don't
need to hear about how my couch put your back out
for the next three
weeks. Anyway, it's an acquired taste."
Scully opened her mouth to protest.
"Of course," Mulder deliberately continued, knowing
he was cutting
off a Scully rebuttal, "we could compromise and get
what we both
want."
Scully's fine eyebrow gave a suspicious lift.
"In case you haven't noticed, this bed is made for
more than just
one. At least I would be relieved that you're not
out skidding
around on the flooded streets out there, and you can
be happy that
I'm still in my own bed, and you can wake up without
your back being
sore."
"Mulder, I don't know if that's..."
"We can have one of those slumber parties where we
brush each
other's hair and paint our toenails." Mulder added
with a taunting
waggle of his eyebrows.
"That's tempting, Mulder," Scully mused to her
partner, growing
serious, "but I don't think..."
A deafening crack of thunder seared her eardrums,
startling her with
its sudden explosion. Her jaw hung open in
mid-sentence, the world
around her suddenly growing slower. Her heart
thumped in a melodic
beat, her hand drifting through the air with
deliberate slowness
toward her chest.
Slow down.
Everything happens for a reason.
The storm is an opportunity, lending a new path, a
new fork to
travel that had otherwise been passed by many times
before. Look at
it, take it, grasp it and never let go. Make a
choice. Listen to
your heart, follow it into the unknown, into the
darkness of the
night.
"The storm's practically right on top of us."
Mulder commented,
counting the seconds between the brilliant streaks
of light and its
encore of furious bass. "Now what was that you were
saying,
Scully?"
Scully could feel the throb of her heart beneath her
fingertips, a
gasp escaping from her throat. A gleam of resolve
blazed from the
indigo depths of her eyes, giving her companion
another furtive
glance. "Fine, Mulder, but I get the covers."
Mulder was eternally grateful that his hands were
positioned against
the waterbed headboard, otherwise he would have
fallen straight to
the floor.
~ Pull your mouth
close to mine ~
"You gonna' sleep in those pantyhose all night?"
Mulder queried
with mock humor as he wrapped his chilled body with
the Navajo
blanket from the living room, watching Scully squish
into the watery
folds of the bed.
He could feel the vibes of death pulsing from her
glare.
Scully didn't answer. She usually didn't when he
had one of those
rare moments of being right. Irritated, she heaved
back out of the
waterbed, making sure to leave with a quick jump,
knowing her
partner received a jolting aftershock. With a
triumphant grin, she
quickly shimmied her legs free from the binding
nylon, the cold air
sending a shock of goosebumps tickling up her thigh.
She reached
over to her hip, sending the zipper of her skirt
downward with a
loud rip, allowing her tired abdomen muscles room to
breathe. She
didn't have to turn around to know Mulder had a
wide-eyed expression
across his clean-cut features. She was too stubborn
to ask for
something more comfortable.
She turned back toward the bed, grasping a wad of
thick, silky
comforter beneath her fingers. Mulder was laying
casually on his
back, fingers kneaded together behind his head,
looking a little too
smug for her liking.
Mulder's bed.
Mulder in the bed.
What on earth was she doing?!
Time passes in moments. Take stock of each precious
moment before
it passes.
Sleep deprivation was winning over. She would
reprimand herself
further in the morning when she had a new burst of
energy. Her legs
slipped under the covers, silk against silk, warmth
against cold.
The goosebumps melted away as the water gently
rocked because of her
movements. Her nostrils burned as they were
immersed in the smell
of musk, of him. The wind howled a melancholy call
through the
window, the rain pelting its anger against the roof.
"What in the world..." Scully mumbled to herself,
reaching
underneath the covers to her feet. She pulled out
an empty
sunflower husk between her fingers, a disgusted look
darkening her
face.
"Oh sorry about that, Scully." Mulder piped up
quickly, hugely
enjoying himself. "Those usually travel in groups,
so don't
say you haven't been warned."
"You eat these in bed too?" Scully asked in
disbelief.
"Hey, you opted for the covers." Mulder quipped,
burying his head
into the softness of his pillow.
Scully shook her head. In any fantasy she would
quickly deny she
ever had, rolling around in sunflower shells had not
been a part of
them. She could feel a smile breaking from her lips
despite
herself, quickly rolling away from Mulder to face
the window.
"What's so funny?" came the sandpaper rasp of
Mulder's voice,
devilishly soft.
He certainly didn't miss much.
"You." Scully replied in a soft whisper against the
white
pillowcase.
The water beneath them rippled, beginning from
Mulder's side of the
bed and rebounding toward her. He had moved to his
side, facing
her, one arm propped beneath his head for support.
He was inches
away from her bundled form, heat radiating from his
body. A deadly
distance away.
Scully curiously turned in his direction, a lock of
auburn silk
scattering across her face. Before she could reach
up to move it,
large fingers, warm and exquisitely soft, brushed
across her brow,
moving the wave of hair with it. Her head was
trapped against the
cotton pillowcase, his face hovering above hers in
the darkness.
She could feel the gentle breeze of his breath
fluttering across her
skin, his eyes dark and unfathomable in the night's
pitch black.
She could feel the blood beating silently in her
wrists and temples,
her mind racing for tactics on what move to make, on
interpreting
what Mulder was going to do next. She could feel
him lean closer,
making eye contact with her as his lips lingered
above hers.
Lightning flashed, raindrops shimmering in the sky.
A fork in the road.
A path not yet discovered.
"Good night, Scully." He whispered with
unmistakable tenderness,
retreating his hand and making a disappointing
withdrawal.
That was it? Good night?!
"Good night, Mulder." Scully answered in her crisp,
unrevealing
tone, tossing back on her side in one quick motion,
throwing him
into the angered darkness of her mind.
~ I can see the wind coming down
like black night
so speak to me
like the winds outside ~
She couldn't sleep, as tired as she was. It wasn't
insomnia, since
she had been sitting on the couch with Mulder
earlier and simply
rocked her head back into immediate sleep. No, this
was all Mulder,
leaning over dangerously above her, throwing her
senses into high
gear. And of course, she was actually sleeping--or
trying to--in
the same bed with him. Had she gone insane?!
Her face was supported by a crooked arm wrapped
around the pillow's
softness, staring through the small gap of the open
window. The
brave light from the lamp down below fell obliquely
across her pale,
creamy skin. The oval of her face was delicate,
perfect, and every
nuance, every detail was awake, alive. Her body was
attuned to
every ripple the waterbed made as Mulder gently
twisted and turned.
It was odd to have another soul next to her in her
slumber. It had
been years.
The storm outside must have been hovering straight
over Washington,
not wanting to leave Mulder's apartment building
without fully
battering the cinderblock sides with its hostile
winds. Through the
window Scully stared into the rich, velvet black of
the sky, a spark
of electric current throwing a shock of light into
the dark,
swirling masses of seething vapor.
She sighed audibly in vain, knowing she wasn't
leaving anytime soon.
"Still awake?"
Her breath froze. Did the man ever sleep?!
Scully glanced upward to the red digits on Mulder's
clock. 3:10.
She groaned inwardly, wondering how she was going to
be fresh and
ready for work only four hours away.
"It's just the storm." Scully replied in a
cautious, non-committal
tone.
"I can close the window if that would help." Mulder
suggested in a
throaty whisper that sent Scully's whole body on the
defensive.
"No, no, the breeze is nice." She answered quickly,
not daring to
look at him from the corner of her eye.
"Okay, then." Mulder conceded, a sloshing wave
indicating he had
moved to his side. The warm air puffing at her neck
confirmed it.
"My years of lack of sleep always turned out to be
something that
was weighing on my mind. So what's eating at you? I
thought after
this weekend's events you had the world squared
away."
Scully's blue eyes widened as her body froze,
immediately tense and
alert. They had already had one long talk that
night, which was a
record by itself, but now Mulder was instigating
two?! Plus, in her
tired, drained state, she knew her protective shield
she coated
herself with was almost non-existent. She was more
afraid of
sliding down the slippery slope of her honest
emotions than of
anything else. She didn't doubt that the brilliant
profiling mind
of her partner already knew that.
"It's just the storm, Mul..."
A blinding flash of brilliant white light flooded
the room, the
strike possibly connecting with a tree or antenna
just outside the
building. She could feel the hair on her arms and
on the back of
her neck standing on end, her breathing emanating in
labored puffs.
She could hear the sharp intake and release of the
air in her lungs
rushing through her ears, the slow bob of the
waterbed rocking her
with its gentle sway-swing motion.
Slow down. Stop and consider this path before
dismissing it. The
enigmatic woman led you to Mulder, so dip you toes
into the
black waters of a path not yet written. Test it.
~ It's broken up, pushing us ~
"What was that earlier? The 'good-night' moment?"
Scully blurted
in a whisper, her voice sounding normal despite the
sudden frenzy of
terror racing down her spine. She felt the danger
of the question
like a dead weight on her back, but she had
triumphantly taken a
step toward an unexplored path. Her body slowly
moved beneath the
sheets, turning to face her companion, her partner.
He had stiffened and seemed suddenly uncomfortable.
He bit his
lower lip in thought, knowing she was reading every
movement of his,
not expecting anything but an honest answer to an
honest question.
"I'm sorry, Scully."
She noticed that his eyes again sought hers, only to
slide away a
second later. "I was going to give your forehead a
kiss..."
His voice drifted into the storm. Forehead?!
Somehow that had been
amusing, frustrating, and delightful all at the same
time. A hollow
feeling had formed in the pit of her stomach, a fear
gently creeping
into her body.
"...but I had changed my mind. I wanted something
else." He ended
with a fearful tone. His words hung in the air
without expectation
of any response.
~ Hear the rain fall
see the wind come to my eyes
see the storm broken
now nothing ~
A horrifyingly honest answer.
He saw her hand tremble slightly, like a leaf on a
tree in the
gentlest of breezes. Impulsively his hand reached
from underneath
the scratchy Navajo, snaking across the gap between
their bodies to
make contact with her hand. The meeting ignited a
fire, his
fingertips squeezing down upon the silk of cool
skin, fingers
naturally intertwining around each other.
"What are you afraid of, Scully?" he remarked with a
gravity in
which she detected a hidden irony.
His eyes burned into the ice-blue depths across from
him.
"The same thing you're afraid of." She breathed with
a wry melancholy
into the wind, feeling her words dance to his ears
like playful
notes. Her eyes still held on to a degree of
caution as well as a
new respect for the fears they shared. Her body had
become
intensely hot beneath the thick layers of bedding,
her heart
throbbing in her veins, against her skin. Her lungs
were being very
difficult in allowing oxygen to travel freely to her
limbs.
Thunder clapped outside, jarring the naked shadow of
fear.
~ Speak to me baby
in the middle of the night ~
Mulder clenched her hand tighter, as if trying to
hold themselves
from the abyss threatening to swallow them. He
caressed her long
slender hand with the pads of his fingers, moving
across smooth,
rounded nails, down to the quickly dampening palm.
His hand gently
asked for her hand to follow, the ivory skin coming
in contact with
his moist lips.
Scully withheld a trembling breath, nerves
skyrocketing across her
skin. The touch was comfortable, simple, yet sent
an inferno of
flames lashing through her skin. She knew his
lingering lips wanted
to stay forever.
~ speak to me
hold your mouth to mine ~
Here was a path she had missed multiple times.
Seven years of
passing it by, never giving it a second glance. Too
afraid of the
darkness it kept. It was time to slow down, to
believe once again.
Believe that love waited for her on the other side.
Believe.
Scully sat up higher in the bed, basking in the
coolness flowing
from the open window. The room began to spin in
dark circles of
velvet around her, her hand coming to life against
Mulder's.
Her iron grip around his fingers startled him,
allowing the kiss to
be broken. He stared at her with open astonishment
as she caressed
her hand down the masculine line of his jaw, his
hand still
attached.
She stopped, her mouth open, feeling as if she were
leaning over the
edge of an abyss. Her heart hammered faster in her
throat, a flush
of heat searing into her cheeks. Her eyes
deadlocked against the
surprised hazel irises of her partner, her head
reaching the point
of no return. The path was irreversible,
unbreakable, unstoppable.
She welcomed the darkness, believed in her love,
believed it would
be returned. No greater clarity had occupied a
place in time and
space in her reality.
Her lips met against his, flesh against flesh, a
tremor of shock
running through her partner before he came alive
with a response of
his own. He would never turn her down, never push
away such an
invitation to feel the depths of Dana Scully she
kept hidden only
for herself. The chaste kiss on New Year's was in
no comparison to
the one they shared in his bed, in the pitch black
of the night,
under the warmth of covers sheltered from the wrath
of a storm.
Scully's lips parted with her partner's, feeling him
brush against
her lips immediately after, not wanting to let go so
abruptly.
Their kiss deepened, filling them with softness,
respect, warmth.
Lips glided together, of lost souls united, their
hands still
intermingled under Mulder's jaw. He moved his free
hand to cup her
face, sliding back to tangle through her auburn
locks with a
jubilant sense of comfort. He absorbed every feel
of her in this
unguarded moment, his nostrils inhaling the sweet
fragrance of her,
fingertips memorizing every nuance of her skin. His
lips ached to
taste the skin his hand had found, but knew this was
not the time.
Next time.
"Mulder." Scully exhaled with a ragged whisper,
breaking their last
kiss with deliberate slowness. Her eyes were as
wild as her breath,
both out of control with fires of emotion. Her
fingers squeezed
tighter against Mulder's, the two hands that had yet
to break
contact.
Mulder responded with a desperate squeeze, moving
her hand back to
his lips, hearing an aching sigh escape from his
partner's soul.
Their eyes were all the communication they ever
needed, now
reflecting the confirmation of their actions, of
their declarations
for one another. No regrets, no confusion, the
ending being more
simple than either had imagined. The new path
wasn't a dead end,
but a beginning. A beginning to beautiful scenery
ahead, the
annihilating darkness quenched beneath their steps.
~ 'cause the sky is breaking ~
"Look at that, Scully, the rain stopped." Mulder
spoke with the
dark rasp of his voice, "Isn't that a coincidence."
Scully leaned back to her side of the bed, her head
moving toward
the window, feeling a tingling sensation shudder
through her body.
No, it wasn't a coincidence, not for her, Dr. Scully
of Science.
Everything happened for a reason, and she had put
her faith into the
forces she couldn't explain. The whole day had
guided her on a
journey of life's choices, and she had stopped to
consider them all.
Her head sunk into the pillow, an odd sense of
partial but
exhilarating triumph, like a presentiment one got in
the middle of a
long race that it was still possible to reach the
finishing post.
Her hand stayed laced in her partner's as he
recovered himself with
the black and tan Navajo.
~ it's deeper than love
I know the way you feel ~
"You don't have to use that." Scully spoke toward
the ceiling, her
voice confident, warm with grace. "Get under the
covers...I won't
tell if you won't."
She could feel Mulder's smile lighting up the room
like the
lightning from only five minutes ago as Navajo was
discarded to the
floor with the rest of his clothes. His large frame
radiated a
comforting warmth as he settled in, the bed swaying
to the motion of
his limbs. His right hand was still connected to
her left, their
bond unfaltering, unyielding.
She felt his free hand caress down the length of her
face, the heat
leaving a trail of exhilarated nerves behind. "Good
night, Scully."
"Good night." She answered in return, making one
more confident
squeeze with her fingers. Their bonded hands rested
gently between
them, the sudden silence from outside engulfing the
room.
Scully laid awake, her body more alive than ever,
feeling the racing
pulse in Mulder's fingers grow steadily slower, her
eyes watching a
leaden, gray dawn break outside the open window.
Once she felt Mulder asleep, she lifted her sore
body slowly from
the bed, reluctantly removing the bonded grip of
their hands. Her
palm was still sweaty, the smell of him unmistakably
mingled with
her own. She padded quietly into the bathroom,
smoothing her forest
green shirt, moving the zipper of her skirt back
into its original
position, her abdomen screaming obscenities at her
for the sudden
tightness. Her auburn locks were mussed no matter
how much patting
her palms gave them, and with a grab for her
pantyhose she slipped
out of his apartment, keys in hand.
~ like the rains outside
speak to me ~
The front steps of the apartment building were slick
with puddles of
rainwater as Scully carefully descended in her
heeled pumps. Her
eyes moved from her shoes into the glistening world
of water, the
birth of the sun turning the gray sky salmon.
Raindrops glittered
across the deciduous trees full of leaf, the
darkened roads
glistened with wet, oily sheens. The storm had kept
her here, here
with Mulder. Nature's fury had spoken to her in the
only way it
knew how, sending her life in a new direction. She
was thankful to
the unknown forces offering her the chance of a
lifetime, for
guiding her in a direction she would have never seen
alone. This
path was for her and Mulder to share, to explore, to
love.