Title: A Simple Kiss Author: Jaime Lyn Spoilers: Nothing really Keywords: Mulder/Scully Classification: S,H,R (MSR) Rated: PG-13 because of sexual undertones-- Disclaimer: I don't own them (Mulder and Scully). I never did. If they (CC, 1013, FOX) sue me, then all they get is my dog...And I really kinda LIKE my dog... Ok guys, there'a a twist at the end that I hope you like... I hope...Please send feedback...I BEG of you!! Now this is my... well...debut of sorts into this genre, so go easy...And please READ AND ENJOY!! That is all I can hope for... EMAIL: LeiaMercury@msn.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Now...on with the show!!! A SIMPLE KISS, By Jaime Lyn Dana Scully's thoughts exhaustedly swam around in her head as she tapped her fingers impatiently on the frustratingly small desk of her frustratingly small hotel room. She sighed in weariness and grabbed the autopsy report of one Mr. Jacob Willoughby from where she had left it by Mulder's feet. They had been stuck in some dump-water town in Ohio investigating the mysterious, unexplained deaths of four townspeople for almost five days now. Five thankless, lousy days in Dana Scully's opinion, and still there were no leads, no evidence, nothing. As it so happened, the most interesting part of their investigation occurred when a local man asked for a picture with "The gov-ment folk", and posted the results in the town hall. Apparently no one here had ever seen FBI agents before and it was all very fascinating for them. For Scully, however, it was becoming tiresome. For not only was she sick of being a tourist attraction, her suits were all dirty, the shower rarely worked, and their case was going nowhere fast. Inconclusive autopsy reports and clueless witnessess only highlighted and accentuated it. And now her head hurt, her feet ached on top of it, and all she could think about doing was going to sleep; In her own bed and not some hard, lumpy, 50 dollar a night rip-off. Her eyes began to droop as she turned to Mulder for the case file while cracking her neck. The audible "pop crunch" it made signaled her that her body was not happy with the late hour. "Mulder-hey Mulder-would you mind passing me the case file for...Mulder?" no response. "Mulder?" not even a head nod. "...MULDER!" Fox Mulder groaned exhaustedly at the screeching sound of his name, and snapped his attention behind him towards his red headed partner. He stared at her puzzled, confused as if he'd never seen her before and had no clue what she was talking about. Dana Scully rolled her eyes and addressed him, annoyed. "Mulder, the case file?" she repeated. Mulder stared at her, still confused for a brief moment until reality (Or at least the one he resided in) finally clicked and he blinked, nodding in vague agreement. "Oh-right-sorry Scully, I was just ahh...a bit preoccupied at the moment. Sorry." Without so much as another word, Mulder turned his attention back to the television set as he tossed the case report dismissively over his shoulder to Scully. Horrified and agrivated beyond belief, she watched as it flew through the air haphazardly and sailed towards her head. Her teeth began to grind together in anger as her eyes closely trailed the flying case report. Her jaw clenched tightly. If she didn't know better she would've sworn she'd chipped a tooth. Shooting a spiteful glare in his direction, she reached her arm out most unsuccessfully to snatch the manila folder in mid-air. Her tiny fingers missed, however, and the documentations fell from her grasp like a slippery bar of soap. Pent up hostility registered on her normally calm features as a quarter of her carefully organized documents ended up fluttering to the floor. "Damn it Mulder," she called, "can you at least try to be mildly interested in this ridiculous case that you dragged me half way around the country to investigate?" "Uh huuuhh..." "Mulder, I'm talking to you, you know..." "Uh huuuhhh" "Mulder? Mulder, godammit answer me!" "In a minute Scully..." "In a minute?! In a MINUTE?!" Scully heard her mind scream, and she angrily decided that killing Mulder would have to be the only practical solution. "Alright, fine Mulder," she barely managed without grinding her teeth out of existence, "Whatever. But you know what? I'm just going to go to sleep right now and forget this entire thing. THEN, first thing tomorrow, I'm going to get myself the earliest plane ticket out of here because this is, by far Mulder, the most ludicrous assignment you've ever dragged me on." "If you think so Scully..." Dana glared at him undeniably frustrated. He was blocking her view of the television, and she was suddenly interested in what had him so fascinated. But more so, she was angry. And she wanted him out. Now. "I'm telling you to leave Mulder..." "Yeah..." "I'm saying get the hell out of my room." "Ok, ok...just give me a minute..." "NO! No 'in a minute's!' I'm going to kill you Mulder, so help me god, if you don't get up and get out right now...Do you hear me? I'm going to get my gun and just shoot until either there are no bullets left or my hand cramps up...Do you understand?!" "shhh-you're ruining this for me Scully." "Out. Now. I mean it Mulder. I'm getting my gun..." "uh huh." Unable to stand it any longer, Scully threw her arms up in anger and frustration, and allowed the papers she was holding to fall to the floor once again. She blew air threw thinned lips and shoved a copper tendril angrily out of her face. "Do you even care that I'm speaking to you Mulder?" "Huh?" "Right, Well then I guess you might as well stay here while I go walking the streets as a prostitute. Hopefully it will make me enough money so that I can quit the FBI and work for the circus..." Her tone was flat, dry. "uh huh... Have fun," came the slight reply. she thought irritated. "Damn it, that's it! I want to know what in the hell has got you so intrigued on the-" Mulder shifted to the left, and Scully stopped in mid-sentence and rolled her eyes. Her view of the set was now un-obstructed. "Mulder...That's definitely NOT CNN..." she commented wryly and he smiled back at her devilishly. "Well, you weren't paying attention so I turned down the volume really low and put on Cinemax... This is a really good one though Scully--Bikini Car wash 4. A classic in its own right." Scully shook her head wearily at him and glanced towards the small, manually operated television set. She furrowed her brows at the images on the screen as they frolicked back and forth, giggling stupidly in tiny eye-patch like bathing suits. Wearily, she looked back to Mulder. "Mulder why do you...Oh nevermind..." Mulder slowly turned to face her, a look of annoying amusement on his face, and Scully seriously considered wiping it off with the back of her hand. "What Scully?" he asked, a challenging note in his voice. she thought, exhausted. "I said nevermind," she replied, to tired to bother trying to sound firm. "No-seriously-what?" Scully considered him for a moment and then spoke. "I just don't get it," she sighed distastefully and cracked her knuckles. "Don't get what Scully?" he asked innocently, genuinely. "They're in tiny bikinis and washing cars...at a car wash nonetheless--hense the name...what's not to get?" He actually sounded annoyed at her, as if she'd broken some sacred "Bikini-movie" rule by not understanding the appeal, and for some reason, Scully found that incredibly funny. She let out a small snort of laughter and disgust at him. His eyes narrowed defensively at her. "And exactly what are YOU laughing at, agent smart-ass?" Mulder glared as Scully laughed full force at his inquiry. She shook her head surreptitiously and looked at him, mockingly, almost sympathetically. "Nothing," she managed, her laughter beginning to die out as she focused her attention to the case file that had fallen. Mulder raised an eyebrow. "Yeah right nothing," he muttered in reply. Scully sighed and watched as he sulked his way back into his movie. "You really want to know what I found so funny?" she asked. "Yes, as a matter of fact," came the defensive reply. She sighed again. "It's the level of maturity you depict when choosing the next 'playboy-pinup poster-girl of the month' to drool over", She scoffed, busying her hands with the dropped case file. "The entire notion that you find something like that attractive is just thoroughly amusing." Scully's hands continued carefully with the scattered papers while her mind began wandering elsewhere. Her brain leaned towards self conscious thoughts of what Mulder would think of her in one of those little bikini deals. Then, grimacing at the idea that she would even think of something so ridiculous, she silently scolded herself. "I think you're just offended" he replied, a mockingly seductive tone creeping into his voice. "You only think that because you're jealous. Admit it Scully." The corners of her mouth turned up as she glared at him and at the same time, chucked at his little innuendo as meanwhile, the voices in her brain began to battle. "Oh yeah, that's EXACTLY it Mulder. I'm dying to be the big-breasted bimbo of your fantasies." Her comment came out sarcastically...Mockingly... A direct contrast to what he would've expected her to say and Scully smiled to herself, satisfied with the retort. The blush that crept up Mulder's face at those words did not go unnoticed, and she grinned smugly at him. "Ok, so they're not Harvard material Scully, but I ask you this," he tilted his chin upwards in defiance. "Give me a good reason I shouldn't find any of them attractive." Scully pursed her lips and kept her eyes cast Steadily towards his, openly defiant although she knew there were just so many wrong turns this line of discussion could take. She needed to keep it neutral she realized, for the sake of her sanity if nothing else. "Well, for one thing, they're like rag dolls," she rationalized to him. "I mean, they've probably been pulled and stuffed and stitched so many times that I doubt there's much left of them that could even be remotely construed as 'natural'. Besides the fact that they run around acting like they haven't got a brain in their little bleached blonde-" Her words abruptly cut off when he began to laugh at her and she stopped in mid sentence, staring at him as if offended. "What? What's so funny?" "You've never had really good sex have you Scully?" Scully dropped the papers and the folder in shock. Of all the things he could have interrupted with, she had definitely not seen that one coming. Her skin turned the color of tomato, and her mouth dropped wide open in embarrassment, much to the amusement of her chuckling partner. "Or is good sex just like, a theory for you?" he finished, as a wide grin broke out over his features. Scully blanched, her face almost completely white until a heavy blush began to attack her cheeks. "For your INFORMATION Fox Mulder, first of all, yes I have, and second of all it isn't any of your damned business anyhow!" Scully's voice came out harsh, defensive. Perhaps more so than she would have liked and Mulder's amusement only broadened ten-fold. "None of my business huh?" he questioned, turning to prop himself up on his elbow, his right side lying on the carpet so that he could face her more fully. "So how good was it?" Scully let out a groan of distaste and pulled herself up from the desk chair, stretching her muscles as she looked desperately for somewhere to focus her attention. "Don't even start Mulder. We are NOT discussing my sex life." Mulder's grin widened. "Why not Scully? I thought it was commonplace for partners to disclose intimate personal information to each other." "Oh for goddsakes Mulder, don't insult my intelligence," she groaned, rubbing her temple with her fingers. Mulder leaned back and let out a sound that resembled chuckling. "I'm not insulting your intelligence, I'm insulting your love life Dana--there's a difference you know." "Yeah. Sorry. My mistake," came her dry retort. "Come on...What is it you're afraid of Scully?" Her chin jutted upwards in insulted defiance at his comment. "Afraid? I'm not afraid of anything." "whatever," he muttered lazily and turned his head slowly back towards his sacred TV. Letting out a growl of frustration, Scully stalked angrily over to Mulder's carelessly lounging form. His sudden indifference in their train of conversation made her want to slap him right across the face. "hey-can you move Scully? You're in the-" Turning swiftly, she snapped off the power knob with a flick of her wrists. "way," he finished, deflated. He raised a speculative eyebrow at her. "You know, for someone who didn't want to talk about their love life, you sure do seem adamant on having my full attention." Scully snorted disgustedly. "give me a break Mulder. I turned off your 'educational smut' because we have a case to finish." "Liar" "excuse me?" "You know you want to tell me, so why don't you just tell me?" "There's nothing to tell you Mulder, and this conversation is over." Mulder smiled like the all-knowing cheshire cat and cleared his throat loudly. Apparently when he got on a subject that peaked his interest he didn't stop until satisfied. "Oh no I don't think so...there's something here that you're supressing..." Scully rolled her eyes at his sudden "Fruedian" attiutude. "Oh really? And what could that be? An overwhelming desire to smack you and keep my private life private?" "Nooooo....that;s not it...It's something else...Something..." Scully groaned irritated. "Don't psychoanalyze me Mulder. I'm not in the mood." Mulder grinned arrogantly, his eyes displaying the fact that he was not going to back down any time soon. "well, why don't you tell me what you ARE in the mood for and I'll tell you which scented oils I brought." Scully rolled her eyes skyward and watched her partner waggle his eyebrows for added affect. He propped himself up lazily on an elbow and began to trace invisible patterns on the plush carpet, watching her hands gather nearby papers. "Better than scented oils Scully?" She ignored him. "Tell me Scully...were there any...physical restraints involved?" "WHAT?! Jesus Mulder--NO! What kind of person do you think I-" "AHA!!" Scully scowled at her admission and slammed the folder back onto the ground as Mulder began to laugh sardonically. Scully glanced around the room and all of a sudden had an overwhelming desire to re-pack her bag of cosmetics. "I knew you wanted to tell me Scully." "Don't make me use this gun Mulder." "How good?" "I said NO." "I'm serious Scully-I want to know for...scientific reasons." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Ok, now you really ARE insulting my intelligence." "No-seriously... I'm being honest here." "So am I. I told you Mulder, it isn't any of your business." "Oh really now..." Mulder challenged, arching an eyebrow. "well I think you're lying. I don't think you've had even REMOTELY good sex." Scully glared at him and stiffened, reaching for her small wooden hairbrush. "And what makes you think that Mulder? Your astute knowledge of my personal relationships?" "No," he replied scoffing. "It's just the way you say it. Your body-language gives you away. I know you Scully. You're a rotten liar." Scully glared at him weakly. "Oh ok, and I suppose that you're just the expert on sex huh? I suppose that watching all those ridiculous videos makes you the messiah of good sex doesn't it?" "Those aren't mine, I swear..." Scully let out an irritated grunt as her eyebrow proceeded to shoot up a notch. "Oh Come on Scully...Scouts honor?" Scully's eyebrow shot up even more. "Oh please. You're no Eagle Scout Mulder." "Yeah--and you're no sex queen either, so what's your point?" Scully stared at him horrified, bubbling over with irritation and anger and opened her mouth to resopond. "And just what the hell is that---" Mulder sighed and held up a surrendering hand as he interrupted, inwardly grateful that her gun was all the way up on the dresser. "Nothing. It doesn't mean anything...Just...look, I didn't mean that...well all I meant was that I could tell that you were lying--I never said I was the Messiah of anything-least of all sex." This time it was Scully's turn to raise a perplexed eyebrow. She regarded him distastefully and dropped the hairbrush onto the mattress, moving to gather her bag of toiletries from the dresser. She didn't even make it past the bed before turning to stare at him intrigued. "So what are you saying, that you've never had good sex Mulder?" She watched as he stared at her for a moment, regarding her thoughtfully as he considered his answer. "Nice try Scully, but I asked first." Scully actually laughed at that and shook her head in disbelief. Mulder frowned. "I really don't see what's so funny. Answer mine and I'll answer your's." She smiled. He looked and sounded so wounded; like an animal caught in a bear trap almost. she thought. "Sorry but I don't think so Mulder," she sighed. Mulder frowned again and gazed at her, trying to look hurt by doing his best to turn on the "Wounded puppy" look that usually worked so well on her. "Why?" he asked softly. "You trust me don't you?" Scully let out a groan of distaste and raised her "no-nonsense" eyebrow at him. "Oh please." She moaned, rolling her eyes at him. "Don't get melodramatic with me Mulder. You know I do, it's just...well this is different. This is much too personal to me. I don't discuss those kinds of things with anyone." Mulder simply stared at her and didn't respond. Finally, Scully let out a nervous chuckle as Mulder sat, and he gazed at her confused. "what now?" he queried. "Nothing. It's just...Well I can't believe that you and I are actually sitting here having this conversation, that's all. The idea of it..." "Yeah. Some conversation." he muttered annoyed. "Pretty one sided if you ask me." Scully frowned at his comment, heard but not clearly understood with his mumbling, and spoke. "What was that?" she asked. "Umm...I said Uh huh," he responded quickly, and decided that he would probably be better off if he didn't turn this into a full blown fight. He then changed the tone of his voice so that it suggested that he thought she weren't being at all completely truthful with him. "And that's really 'all' Scully?" She looked to him for a moment, confused as the blush that had finally abated crept up her cheeks again, and she shoved her brush into her bag quickly. "I don't know what you're trying to say now Mulder. What? Is 'what' really 'all'?" "The things you don't want to tell me Scully. What is it you're protecting?" "Mulder-"she began warningly. "You know," he continued, ignoring her statement. "I think that good sex perpetuates from a good kiss, theoretically that is, because a kiss ultimately leads to sex in most cases. I mean, if the initial contact isn't good, then how can anything especially meaningful come out of further exposure to the other person?" Scully just looked at him with dull amusement. "Now there's a ridiculous and disturbingly shallow theory If I ever heard one..." she admonished and stared at him strangely. "Mulder...You've really given this a lot of thought haven't you?" Slowly, she moved back towards him, deciding to take a seat on the paisley comforter of the hotel bed. Her cosmetics were soon forgotten. "Well, I just decided that I must have been kissing all the wrong women. I mean I don't have a very good track record do I? Pheobe, Diana and what not... sooo... it's no wonder that none of them lasted." "Oh yeah, real scientific..." she acknowledged sarcastically, then smiled at him sardonically. "So then you're saying that your obsession with your work and this quest for the truth has nothing to do with your failure to commit to someone?" Her voice carried just as serious an undertone as his and he looked at her frankly, as if trying to examine and dissect her words. "Well what about us Scully? I've been with YOU for seven years haven't I? And that's not exactly a failure." Scully's pulse, for some odd and unwelcome reason, raced at the direction of this ultimately strange conversation. She had a bad feeling she knew where it would take them. "That's different Mulder, It's-" "Why? Why is it different? Because we don't have sex? Because we've never kissed?" "well, actually...yes." Mulder stared at her as if she'd just insulted him. "why?" came his the simple question. "why what?" was her simple response. "why is it different?" Scully furrowed her brows and began to wring her fingers.. "It just IS Mulder. It's completely different. I mean....well for one thing, you and I aren't...intimate. At least not in the respect you're reffering to." "And what respect would that be?" "Mulder---" "No really, enlighten me." "You're being insolent Mulder." "That your Webster's dictionary term for me today Agent Scully?" "yes." Awkward silence ensued before finally, Scully couldn't take it anymore, and she gave in with a resigned sigh. "Physical intimacy. Romance ok? That's what I'm referring to." Mulder frowned and he tried to find words that would successfully counteract her all-too-true statement. "You know, quests can be considered romantic. Our quest for instance. I mean, those kind of things can be dated all the way back to the romantic quests of the middle ages when--" "Sex, Mulder. I'm talking about sexual relations." "I realize that Scully, but still--" "And that's besides the fact that you and I are partners. We have a professional, equalled and PLATONIC relationship. Just as it should be. We were assigned to each other. It wasn't a relationship of choice." "Many arranged marriages start out that way," he interrupted, evenly. "As do many boxing matches," she replied dryly. "So then what are you saying? That you should have left when you had the chance?" Scully sighed for the umpteenth time. "No Mulder, I love my work and I love working with you ...as infuriating as you may get sometimes, but that doesn't make this a commitment. Not A romantic one at least, and it's just not the type you're thinking of." "So what are you saying? That this aspect of "us" is sucessful because we're safe? Because we're not...intimate? That I'd up and leave you if we ever uhh...did the 'wild thing' so to speak?" Scully rolled her eyes at the mocking tone of the last part of his sentence and decided to ignore it. "Well, yeah," she replied, unsure of how to regain sure footing in the matter, "Maybe Mulder. I mean, sexual relations change the entire dynamic of relationships. Especially working ones. It would change everything. IT would be an actual romantic entanglement, and you'd have to actually commit to something and I don't think that you'd ever be able to-wait! What the hell am I saying... Mulder...this is ridiculous. This whole conversation. it's not worth thinking about." "why?" she thought irritated, "Because it's not going to happen Mulder... EVER." She growled, making sure she put special emphasis on the word "ever." "Oh really?" "yes really." Mulder watched her peculiarly before grinning like an idiot. "Why not Scully? I think it'd be mind blowing." "Of for god sakes Mulder!" she admonished and he grinned that "all knowing" grin again. He was getting a definite kick out of this and it began to piss her off again. "Oh come on! The earth would move and you know it Scully." She raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief and hoped to god he couldn't hear her pulse as loudly as she could. "With you?" she scoffed and Mulder glared back, offended. "yes with me. It would be great sex. Incredible. The best you've ever had--not that I'm saying you've ever had any." Scully's eyes narrowed even as her heartbeat began to race out of control. She couldn't tell if he was kidding anymore and she didn't like it one bit. "Oh Please Mulder" she spat, "You flatter yourself. I don't need you. I've had... great sex. I have." "I thought you didn't want to talk about that," he drawled arrogantly. she thought annoyed, and felt as if she had somehow painted herself into a red corner. "I don't and we're not," came her angry retort, and she dropped to the bed in disgust. "Well I think You do and we are," he replied, defiantly rising up to her, just short of her personal space. "Come on Scully, Admit it-you'd never know what hit you. It would be amazing. It would satisfy this ridiculous "outline" you seem to have of what a "romantic commitment" should consist of, not to mention that you'd see that I'm perfectly capable of comitting to it. I mean, I think what we have could be construed as "romantic". I mean, It's not like we both don't love each other or anything--At least as friends. I mean, I know we've never really defined those feelings exactly but... Well, I think maybe...ummm... sex could umm..actually improve things." Mulder watched Scully's incredulous expression as he rambled on and his heart began to pick up speed. "Because not only would we have this," he motioned back and forth with his hand, apparently trying to convey their constant bantering and matching of wits, "but we'd also have earth shattering sex." He grinned emphatically. "A must have for any relationship." Scully glared at him in shock and gritted her teeth. "Mulder, That has to be, by far, the most shallow...the most insulting...God...That..." Scully's words stopped as she tried to collect her thoughts. "You're just not seeing it from my point of view," he tried to rationalize but she only rolled her eyes. "I don't need to, because it's NEVER going to happen Mulder." "maybe not," he acknowledged, "but that doesn't mean that you and I don't...don't want it to." Scully's eyes widened at that, and she could've sworn that if she hadn't been listening so closely, she would have missed the subtle way his voice changed with the last part of his sentence; the tiny, shaky timbre of it. Scully glared at him again and wrung her fingers harder until they started to become red and sore. "Well I don't." "Yes you do." "No." "Yes, liar." Scully regarded him in disbelief. "You know what I think Scully?" he challenged. "what?" she answered angrily. "I think that if we kissed you would see that I'm right." Scully stared at him defiantly, wincing as her hands began to ache with her fumbling. She hoped that he didn't catch it. "And why is that?" "Because you are dying to do this, Dana. I just know it. I can see it. I can see right through you. You want this part of the 'relationship'. You want us to take it to a higher level." Scully cocked her copper coifed head to the side and groaned disgustedly. "And you think I would just fall into your arms and tear your clothes off if you kissed me?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Mulder grinned. "well, I wouldn't put it...quite that way, but well, yes, to some degree anyhow. I happen to think that if we kissed then we wouldn't be able to stop." Scully tried to keep herself from gaping and shot back at him. "You are delusional Mulder." "Oh am I?" "yes." "Alright then, well, you're a liar," "Oh am I?" "yes." "Prove it Mulder." Her response was as much of a shock to him as it was to her, and she frowned, staring down at the bedspread. "And exactly how do I do that Scully?" "Do what?" "Prove that I'm right." Scully stared at him as if she hadn't been present for the beginning of this conversation. The look on her face was one of flushed and embarassed confusion. "Oh my god-you really DO want me to kiss you..." Mulder nearly gasped out, half in shock, half in understanding. He was finding it hard to keep his own desires for her in check at this point. "I was just trying to get a rise out of you Scully, I wasn't... oh my god... You want me to kiss you." The last part was a statement. A serious one at that, and Scully refused to meet his eyes--yet. His voice sounded soft, gentle, the tone of it causing Scully's heart rate to pick up speed even as she tried to ignore his effect on her. She looked away embarrassed, and felt as if all the blood were rushing to her head. "We're not having this discussion anymore Mulder, that's it. It's over. Goodnight." He glanced up at her confused. "Touched a nerve did I?" he challenged, his tone of voice changing. "Goodnight Mulder." "Why? You afraid something might happen? Something that goes against your logical reasoning and scientific theories?" "I said GOODNIGHT, Mulder. Go. Now." Her voice was firm, insistent, even as he moved closer and closer to her. Firm right up until he was directly in her face, invading her personal space, breathing down the front of her blouse. "You afraid I might test my hypothesis on you?" "What are you talking about?" "Oh, You know what I'm talking about Dana. You want us to kiss." You want us to go further. You've never had good sex--that was a lie wasn't it? I'm sure it was because I can see through you-- you can't fool me Dana Scully. I know you too well. I'll bet you've had a mediocre love life--ok sex, but nothing great and you want this to change all that. You want 'us' to change all that." Scully's chin turned up at him defiantly. "I should punch you Mulder, I really should." She told him warningly, voicing part of her thoughts, "but I won't because you're not worth the energy." "And why is that Scully?" Scully noted his alternating use of "Dana" and "Scully" in their conversation, and stored it in her subconcious as she continued. "Because It's simply not true, and not only that, but it's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard... And the most offensive." Mulder eyes narrowed and her took her fingers in his own, noting her wince as he did so. Her fingers were red and raw. "Ok, then," he supplied evenly, "Then prove me wrong." "Excuse me?" "What you said before Scully. You said prove it. Well, now I'm saying prove it. Prove me wrong." Scully looked at him warily, trying not to react to the feel of his fingers upon her's. "And how would I do that," she sighed tiredly, unsure of where he was going with all of this. "Very simple," Mulder stated, "we kiss for..." he glanced at his watch, "30 seconds. If you pull away and nothing happens, then you're right. You win. You don't want me, we'll never have sex, there's nothing romantic here, no commitment, yada yada BUT... if we end up in bed then I'm right, I win. See? Very simple." Scully eyed him warily. "I don't see anything simple about it," she replied dryly. "What would be the point?" "If you win I'll buy you lunch tomorrow," he told her, and she almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it, the placement of such a statement in the midst of something that in reality, was very serious. "Mulder..." "I'm going to make you admit that you lied. Come on Scully, I'd blow you out of the water and you know it." Scully contemplated his words and considered hitting him. A part of her deflated. she thought, but decided to not back down if she could stand it. "Oh really..."she challenged him intently, with narrowed aqua eyes. "Because even if I did let you kiss me, you'd never blow me out of the water." "Uh huh..." "Because in the SLIGHT, and I do mean SLIGHT event that I did let you...well whatever, it would ONLY be a kiss for purely scientific reasons. So you could see that I'm not a liar, although I don't see why in the hell I have to justify anything to you. It would mean nothing. Have no effect." "Yeah sure. Whatever you say Scully. Just a meaningless kiss to test out my theory," he finished for her. The proximity of their faces was almost completely intoxicating...Thouroughly blinding... So euphoric that she could almost forget what it was they were talking about when he looked at her that way. "What...what theory was that again?" she asked, dazedly. Her mind began to draw a blank and she licked her lips in anticipation of his next move. "That I could make you admit you were lying. That you want me as much as..." "As much as what?" Scully queried, almost lost in the smell which she had, for so many years, classifed as distinctly "Mulder." She had never encountered it like this though and it was damn near encompassing. "Nothing" he mumbled and ran his fingers along her wrist. She sucked in a breath. "uh, yeah. Well In any case Mulder... I guess in the name of uhh...science I could take a minute to prove you wrong." This time Mulder rolled his eyes. "Yeah right. In the name of science and Dana Scully," he teased. "Yes as a matter if fact," she shot back. "Because you know what Mulder, I am not some pathetic sex-crazed bimbo that is going to jump into your bed. I am not some nymphomaniacal nutcase who does nothing but stare at your lips in my off time and fantasize about them." Scully thought to herself angrily, and tried desperately to shut her inner voice up. Mulder let out a groan of frustration. "I didn't say THAT Scully. All I said was that you want me and are lying about it. That you and I could POSSIBLY have incredible sex leading to a POSSIBLY incredible relationship all stemming from a POSSIBLE incredible kiss that could POSSIBLY render us completely unable to resist it." Scully seemed to consider his words for a moment, and her eyes hardened as she summoned her strength and that "no-nonsense-FBI hard ass" part of her. "You're dreamin' g-man," she stated and he only shrugged. "Oh, Am I? Am I really, g-woman?" For a moment they stared each other down and faced off like something from a cheesy western flick. "Alright Mulder, well considering you're DEAD wrong anyhow, I can't see the harm in a simple kiss. I accept the challenge. Start your watch." Mulder stared at her increduously. "Then you're saying that you want me to kiss you." Scully's eyes widened in surprise at his statement and she opened her mouth to speak, almost unable to respond. Mulder ignored her reaction and moved to set his digital watch. "What? I-NO! Never...Not on your life Mulder." Her reply was sharp and quick; A little too quick for his taste. "You're lying again." "Am I?" "You want me to prove it?" "Just set your goddamn watch." Mulder glinted his eyes at her and looked up, having set his timer. "You're just aching for this aren't you Scully? Why don't you just back out now-before I press the little 'time' button" His eyes challenged her to protest; to bodily shove him out of the room because he knew she was perfectly capable of doing it. It was his way of giving her an out that She simply refused to take. He found that he was vaguely surprised when she did nothing but take long deep breaths, daring him to move, to act; to do anything. He in turn, double dared her with his eyes to take a swing at him, to yell, to push him away. She said and did nothing though. Just simply sat there, her hands clutching the folds of the comforter, her eyes wide in contempt and challenge. He could see the hidden desire behind them. Her continued breaths were long and steady, as if she were trying to regain her equilibrium. "You ready-I'm going to press the button, and then there's no turning back. That's when the 'games' begin." Scully scoffed slightly at that, and edged slowly towards him. "Bring it on," she hurled, although her shrinking voice refused to really back up her statement. "You bet I will," he snapped back, and removed a hand from her wrist. Scully watched intently, silently as Mulder moved to press the button on his small sports watch. she thought. He pressed the button. "Ok-go. Prove-" His words were abruptly cut off... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~THAT'S IT??(Ok--here's where you guys come in...I have two different endings written. How do YOU want it to end?? Should Scully give in? Should they kiss? Should she push him away?? email it to me, and, upon reading the responses I will soon post the "real ending". (along with a follow-up--if you want one...) Thanx!!! FEEDBACK!!!! Title: A Simple Kiss: Scully's Dilemna Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Rated: PG-13 (bunch of bad language. Much use of the word "damn".) Category: S, R, A Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: Scully has 30 seconds to make or break a bet. Will she and Mulder kiss? Disclaimer: I have never owned Mulder or Scully and I hope that no one sues me for playing with them for a little while. I promise not to break them or injure them in any way. * Authors Note: This story takes place after the first "A Simple Kiss." If you haven't read that one yet then you might want to do so now, so that you can understand this one better. Also, if you HAVE read the first story, then I warn ya'. This one has much ANGST ahead. It is written the way I believe Scully's thought processes would view this situation. And I also know that much of the feedback I have received leans towards Mulder and Scully kissing, but well...I felt that drawing this out might make it more enjoyable. After all, when do Mulder and Scully ever do things the easy way? I promise that the next part will be lighter. And now... if you still want it.... Here's part 2... A Simple Kiss: Scully's dilema By Jaime Lyn XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XX 30 seconds. My life in 30 seconds. How ironic is it that? I've been a well respected FBI agent for over 7 years, a certified medical doctor for 8, an adult for even longer, and somehow my entire existence has just boiled down to the way that my body reacts in the next 30 seconds. God, how utterly poetic is that? How wonderfully insane? If I weren't as terrified as I am right now, if I wasn't as nervous, I'd probably laugh at the ridiculousness of it... The divine irony... Or maybe divine intervention even... I gulp in anxiousness and pray to god that he doesn't see it... Yeah right. An act of God to make me face my feelings for Mulder. I can just see it now... Stop the world everyone, halt time and space... Dana Scully is about to get physical with the man she's secretly wanted for years. Oh yeah, that'd be the day... Think Dana. You've got about 3 seconds... Alright, so if God had nothing to do with this situation then I'm completely stumped. Well, ok, maybe not COMPLETELY stumped... but... well, a rational explanation for it escapes me. A practical reason for wanting Mulder's lips on mine is not forthcoming. But then again, when in the world has being in love ever been practical? Especially with Mulder... No...Don't go there Dana... not love...Affection...You feel... What? What do I feel? I don't even know because there's no way to quantify it. No way to categorize it into one neat little emotion. Not in one touch, or one kiss, or even those three little 'easy to say words' can it be so easily quantified. Damn it. I hate things that I can't explain. What was it that that Fowley woman had once said? 'How do you quantify the spiritual? It can't be done..." Well, what if what Mulder and I share is spiritual? Does that make all of this right? Does that make the phrase true? What if there are things in my life that I will never be able to explain? Too many questions... No answers... Fuck... I hate this. And when did I start thinking about what Agent FOWLEY says anyhow? Just forget it. Nevermind that now. Think... Too much confusion.... FOCUS DANA... Think... I am so used to analyzing everything, so used to dissecting what I don't understand to create something from which I can, that I find myself frozen in the face of irrationalism. Terrifed beyond belief... I find myself paralyzed at the prospect of not being able to explain away feelings that I don't altogether understand, and in the same token, I also don't understand why I can't understand them. Ok, now I'm not even making sense... And I'm rambling. Teriffic. I'm just so damn disappointed that I'm being this weak...I'm angry that I'm giving in... But I'm also consumed with the overwhelming need to be touched by the man who is now standing in my personal space. Why is it that the floor never opens up and swallows you when you really need it? Breathe Dana ... Mulder and I are slowly trespassing into very dangerous territory. Attempting to cross a line that was supposed to have been drawn in permanent marker years ago... Supposed to have been...Operative phrase. Ok, so I guess that old saying's true then. Nothing's ever written in stone... Nothing's concrete and forever usually never is. So why am I fighting this? Well, because it's wrong, for one thing. It's so wrong, for so many countless, numerous, very good reasons, it's just beyond wrong. Because he's Mulder. Because we could lose our jobs, our respect, our dignity and... God... When did all that suddenly stop mattering? When did I start throwing logic and reason out the window because I wanted him? Why can't I just KEEP myself from wanting him? It's as if no matter what I do and how hard I try to convince myself otherwise... I still want him... with a fervor and ferocity that borders on the obsessive. He knows it. I know it. The hairs on my arm are prickling at newly the formed gooseflesh there, and I think that they realize it too. I think that perhaps my whole body has just become hyper-sensitive to Mulder's proximity and that is just NOT good. Too close. We're too close to the forbidden zone. I know I have to stop this. Just walk away Dana. Just say "No thank you Mulder," and WALK AWAY. He's still setting his watch and my body is still stationary. I'm not moving and my legs feel like lead pipes. NO. The word resonates in my brain and bounces off the walls of my subconcious like a ping pong ball. I don't want him to go... Theoretically, I could just shove him out and pretend that all of this didn't happen. I could tell him to leave. I could say "Please, please Go Mulder," and I know that he would. I know that Fox Mulder respects me enough to back away when not wanted. He might not like it too much, but he would never force me into anything that I wasn't ready for. The fact that I'd shoot first and ask questions later is beside the point. Mulder cares about me. Deeply. Of this, I am sure. He'd never just force me... Jesus, this is scaring the hell out of me. He's not forcing me to do anything and I...I'm letting him do this. I'm a part of this, I'm instigating it, I want it... Dana, get him out right NOW! So easy...It would be so easy.... So what am I waiting for? My goddamn innate stubborness and hard-headed-ness is standing in the way of practicality. My stupid pride and irritating, morbid curiosity about his lips and his body are forming a road block between me and common sense. One that just won't let me say those magic words, "No, Mulder" and throw him out, because to kick him out would be equal to admitting certain defeat, and I just can't have that now can I? I can't have Mulder thinking that I would chicken out so easily, that I couldn't handle "A simple-just for experimental sake- kiss", and so I do nothing but sit here. The complexity of my partner's relationship with me is so unnerving that I feel resigned to sit here...and wait... Like a moron. Like the stupid rabbit in those cartoons that just sits and waits for the anvil to hit. And what happens when the anvil finally DOES hit? All hell breaks loose. My universe gets turned upside down. Explosive, chaotic and damning repercussions follow. Because one does not become romantically entangled with one's partner. It's completely unnaceptable and just plain wrong on so many levels. It's forbidden, unprofessional and very unpractical. God I just hate me sometimes. I think too damn much. I've also become incapable of movement. What is with this insanity? It's like my feet have been glued to the floor or something, while the rest of me's bonded to the comforter. Oh lord, what if my feet really ARE glued to the floor? And my eyes fastened to his lips, because they seem to be more prominent than the rest of his features for some reason... I think I'm starting to reconsider the "Act of god" thing. Mulder squints at the flashing digits of his sports watch as he presses an index finger to its tiny red button. Yet another ironic coincidence to add to my internal cataloug of "Ironic coincidences that involve myself and my partner". It's that old saying so often found in movies....Never press the little red button... It takes me a fraction of a second to realize that only moments have passed since he moved to set his little timer. My god, why does it feel like hours? "Alright, go. Prove---" He finally speaks and his eyes slide up to crash into mine. Light hazel meets sky blue. All at once we both realize that I've slipped my arms around his neck, and his voice abruptly cuts off as he sucks in a breath. Why is he...oh yeah... My brain faintly registers that I'm running fingers through his hair. Our faces remain motionless, afraid...and vaguely confused. I doubt that he even realized what he had gotten himself into by suggesting this...this...kiss thing..., and I can see that he's just realizing it now...The implications, the emotional attachments, the complications...the fact that I am "Scully", and not just anyone. They all dance behind his eyes. I can read his expression as clearly as I have ever been able to. "What are we doing, Scully?" it says to me. Our mouths are close...so achingly...beautifully close... and yet we are stationary. Oh god. My thoughts, my emotions, my everything is just jumbling and colliding upstairs, and I don't think that I'm going to be able to take much more of this. I know that he can feel what this is doing to me, that he can hear the pounding of my heart, because it's so damn loud that I'm surprised that the whole damn motel can't hear it. I'm surprised that the neighbors haven't called us to complain about the "pounding" next door. The whole damn motel...all six of its occupants... My brain inadvertently replays the ridiculousness of this entire scenario, the inescapable strangeness of it, and I almost laugh into Mulder's neck. I almost break out in the teary, hard, painful laughter of the criminally insane, because I cannot believe that I'm doing something so strictly prohibited, something so bottled up and private and repressed...here. In this backwoods town. In this repulsive motel. In the musty room of the "Purple Moon" Motor Court. Oh god, it's laughable. It's so incredibly laughable, and so "Mulder and Me" I realize that I'm not as shocked as I initially had thought. All of a sudden I feel Mulder's hands shift, his face moving, and I think that perhaps he took my silence as a sort of "open invitation". His arms snake securely around the small of my back, caressing tenderly through the cotton of my shirt, and I can feel them slowly making their way downward. I register the sensation of his fingers pulling my blouse free of my pants suit before I can even think about trying to stop him. I suck in sharp breaths of oxygen as his fingers make contact with the naked skin underneath my shirt. His hands on my back. His fingers on my skin. I am letting him touch me, and oh god, I am relishing every second of it. Mulder continues his soft exploration of my skin beneath his fingertips before inching his face forward slowly, gently, continuing the course of a dangerous game that began not too long ago. I am letting him... I can't stop him... I don't want to... His lips brush across my cheek in a soft, gentle, sweeping motion, and when he pulls away for a moment, I realize that my eyes are closed, my lips are now parted, and my thoughts have begun to collide and melt upon the impact. First my arms stage mutiny against me and wind their way around his neck, and then my brain begins to fizzle at his touch. This can't happen!! Control Dana! Regain control! My breathing deepens as he leans his forehead down to mine. "Scully," he whispers into my still parted lips, and I find that my body seems to have given up fighting against this, against him. I don't think that I'm going to be able to will myself to move. My god, my own body isn't even listening to me anymore and that's a bad, BAD thing. If Mulder isn't going to listen to reason, then SOMETHING has got to, and I'm not exactly on speaking terms with my heart. My heart is supposed to be annoyed with him along with the practical part of me. The part that's saying "He tricked you into this. He teased you and baited you all night and he is never going to let you hear the end of it. Do you want that? Do you want to let him win?" Damn it, My body has GOT to obey me if nothing else, or I am going to lose it right here and give in to something that could turn very dangerous very quickly. I am completely still against him as his lips brush over my cheek again, and then my jaw... once...twice...mmm....again Mulder...please again.... NO! Stop this Dana! Stop this now! Ugh. I hate it when my brain and my body wage war on each other. It's completely exhausting. Make him stop Scully!! This is your fault for letting things get this far and so it's your responsibility to stop it...NOW... Wait a minute... Did I just refer to myself as "Scully"? When in the world did I start thinking of myself as Scully? Am I losing my identity now? Great. Wonderful. I can't believe that...I...mmm...Oh god... I'm finding it hard...to...think...with... mmmm.... Mulder...I want...your hands..there....yes, right there.... NO! Mulder's fingertips move to trace low circles upon the collar of my blouse and then lower, to my shoulders, where he holds me, firm and yet gentle, as his lips press against my neck. Slow kisses...long...tender...Mulder... He has yet to even remotely approach my mouth with his, but even still, it's been so long since anyone's touched me like this...Christ, It's practically sensory overload...and we haven't even done anything yet. His mouth traces the line of my jaw and then downward and I feel like jumping out of my skin. My arms, suddenly chilled although my face has grown hotter, are covered with goosebumps and the hairs on my neck are standing on end. I feel like holding him tighter, kissing him, and never letting go, and oh god, if this truly is insanity then let me be committed. His lips sweep towards my ear slowly, causing slow tremors to rock my neck and shoulders, and I feel undeniably aroused by all of it. By all of him. By everything that I am to him and everything he is to me. It's a sudden, almost violent realization that I want him, that I need him in this way, and it's terrifying. His breath is upon my ear now, and I feel his lips part just above my tiny pearl earring. There is a short intake of oxygen before he speaks. "30 seconds are up Scully... I know I haven't kissed you yet but...you're still here...does this mean I win?" His words are whispered, sensual, and euphoric and yet I'm utterly confused by them. The part of my brain that's been screaming at me to stop him for the past three minutes knows that there's some meaning behind those words that I'm not grasping... Does what mean he wins? Win what? When did this suddenly become Wheel of Fortune? His lips move behind my earlobe smoothly, excitingly, and all at once I remember what he's talking about. The argument. The bet. His irritating behavior. That's what led up to this. Vaguely, I can remember him saying something about me wanting him so much that I would fall into bed with him the moment we kissed. That I would be powerless to resist him and want him so badly, that I would throw caution to the wind and sleep with him because I needed to have good sex with someone, and who better than Mulder? I remember how much that angered me. It angers me still. His lips become excruciatingly wonderful at the skin below my neck, and I grow even angrier at myself for giving in like this. I'm letting him win. I giving him what he wants, and damn it, I don't want that. He really pissed me off tonight. He doesn't deserve to just win like this. He just doesn't deserve the satisfaction. I won't let him affect me like this... But, damn it all to hell, I want him. God, I've always known it, always felt it, but at this very moment... At this very moment...Well, let me just say that I want him more than I want my next breath, more than life itself, but I know that I can't give in like this. I can't let this happen...regardless of what I want...what he wants... It's so goddamn agonizingly frustrating that I want to gouge my own eyes out right here. And it's more than some sick sense of pride, some deep fear of uncharted territory, or just my irritating conscience that tells me I have to stop. It's the idea that he is Mulder, that he is my partner, that there is too much still unsaid, that there are still too many demons between the two of us, that tells me I can't fucking do it. I can't succumb to this, to him; right now and here... in this room... because I don't want him on a bet, and I don't want this to be a "game". The side of me that already belongs to him wants to know that what we have is real, that we'll be able to have forever for it, and that someday we'll be able to walk down a street and do something as simple as holding hands without worrying about the wrong people seeing us. I don't want to be with him while seeking out sinister conspiracies and shadows in dark corners. I want to come first, I want to be his, and I don't want to play backseat to anything--- not even his truth. Not even, god help me, his sister, Samantha. I know that I want Mulder. That I love Mulder, but I need to know that this isn't just misinterpreted emotions. That we aren't just tempting fate and our friendship because neither one of us has gotten laid in years. That he isn't going to wake up tomorrow and realize that I'm only "Scully", his partner, and not "the love of his life", and that we've just made the biggest mistake of our lives. If that ever happened, I don't think my heart would be able to take it. But he would never do that...he loves you....Let him love you Dana... Sometimes my heart just needs to shut the hell up. My practical side says that I don't want this to be sex because we got into a heated argument that went too far. My practical side says that I want it to be loving, and caring, and well...Damn my practical side for ruining this for me!! I feel like I don't know what's up and what's down anymore. This is your fault Mulder, I try to rationalize. If only you hadn't made those dumbass comments about me...If only you hadn't opened your mouth... Well you know what Mulder?! I'm not that easy! I'm just not. I'm not going to hop into bed with you after only a simple kiss! I refuse to let you do that to me! If you want all the things you claim you do, all the things that you claim I do, if you want to prove yourself right, then you're going to have to earn it. I'm not going to sleep with you so easily... Nonsense, my body is screaming at me. You spout nonsense Dana!...He is here. He is willing, he wants you, and he is Mulder....And you want him...desperately... Oh god, I have to stop this now... "Mulder," I whisper heatedly, straining to hold myself together beneath his touch, his embrace, his heart against mine... He murmurs into my neck and pulls away for a moment, taking the time to gaze into my eyes, to crash into them. I feel the power of his stare and I know that he sees me behind my blue eyes. That he feels me in some silent way. And although I had never believed in being able to see someone's soul through their eyes, as sure as I know I am looking at him, I know I am also looking into him. I feel the essence that is Fox Mulder inside his gentle hazel eyes. "hmmm..?" he questions and I begin to draw a blank. What the hell was I going to say? Oh god damn it! This is absurd. I try it once more, and I find that my brain only remembers his lips on my neck, my jaw and my cheek, and my mouth only knows one word. "Again." He smiles at me and presses his lips to the corner of my mouth so softly, so briefly, that it's almost chaste in nature. It's so brief that as soon as I feel the slight pressure, I find that it's gone... and I want it again... Lord, I want to feel it again. But I want a real kiss this time. I want his lips, his mouth, and his soul inside mine. "What?" he asks softly, and presses another tentative kiss to my flushed skin, this time right above my upper lip. He has yet to really kiss them. "That Scully? Is that what you want me to do again?" He punctures his phrase with small, agonizingly sensual kisses along the corner of my mouth, and I find myself doing something that I have NEVER done in his presence. I begin to whimper. "I want to kiss you..." he whispers, and I close my eyes in frustration. "You want me to kiss you..." His mouth caresses my ear again. "You need me to...Please let me in... Let me kiss you Scully...I mean, really kiss you..." His breath begins to tickle my neck. Has he really been waiting for my permission this whole time? My full attention? Is that why he hasn't kissed me? What if I gave it to him... "I'm going to win..." Oh no. Last straw. Deciding phrase. You. Will. Not. Win. Fuck you Mulder. My eyes open and I move my head so that he can see into my eyes again. No you will not win, you will not win, I will not let you, breathe, breathe, oh god.... "Mulder," I hear myself say again, and he smiles, his skin flush with the sweat of wanting, his eyes hazy with desire. "Anything," he answers with a voice so rough with emotion, so rough with love, I almost re-think what I'm about to say. "I want..." He regards me in anticipation and I carefully try to replay the reasons why I'm about to do what I'm about to do. Mulder's irritatingly triumphant victory smile. The ammunition he'll have from this whole bet thing. The way he pissed me off earlier. My fear of commitment...his... our friendship, I'm not that easy...Not a chance in hell... "I want..." Mulder stares at me dazedly and moves his face in closer again. Apparently he feels that whatever I have to say can wait until he's done. It's not until his lips are barely millimeters from mine that I realize he's going to do it for real this time, that he's going to kiss me, long and slowly and passionately...and I know that I have to say this now... Before I lose my resolve entirely... "I want you to leave," I blurt out suddenly, and it takes him by utter surprise. "You...you what?" "I want...for you to go. Right now. Please..." "Scully-" "No, correction, I NEED for you to go right now." Mulder grins that lopsided grin of his and refuses to move. Damn it! He's like a 180 pound obstruction standing between me and the door, and it's impossible to move him...especially when he's being stubborn. It's like telling a mule to get the hell out of my way. It just doesn't work. "Scully," he tries to reason, "You don't have to shrink away from me. I understand. I do. It's ok if you're afraid. I'm afraid too, you know? That doesn't mean---" "Jesus Mulder! I said leave!" I nearly explode, and he moves backwards, clearly flustered. He sighs and looks down sheepishly, resembling what I believe a deer would look like if caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. "Look Scully," he ventures, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so...insensitive about all this but I just...I... want this...I... I NEED you...I always have and I... I just... I just couldn't think up any other way that you would let me...well, just don't be mad that I said what I said. I didn't mean to imply..." "Mulder---" His voice opens up, raw and bare. "Please Scully...don't shut me out for wanting to kiss you..." "I'm not Mulder, and that's why you have to leave," I insist urgently, as I begin the difficult task of shoving him to the door, my shaky hands undermining my words. "That's exactly what you're doing," he replies. "Don't presume to know what I'm doing Mulder. I know what I'm doing." He grunts and I pretend to ignore him. My brain is focused on a simple objective. Get. Mulder. Out. NOW. "I know what I'm doing," I mumble pitifully, "I do..." Am I really muttering to myself like this? Did I really say that out loud? Just get him OUT Dana!! Think about it later!! "No," he whispers, his body pressed against the closed doorframe. "I don't think you do..." I make a move to open the door and he tries to deflect my hand. "Mulder, stop that." "No." "Mulder...." "No Scully...Not until you're honest." My hand falls to my side angrily and I shove him up against the door, hard. His back bangs against it loudly, and his hands come to rest on my shoulders. "Goddamnit it Mulder! For once in your life, can you just TRY to listen to me!" I am yelling now, heedless of the paper- thin walls and the proximity of his face. "I am not going to just let it all happen so easily! I am not going to let you just carry me off to the bed like some sick fantasy because it's been awhile since you've gotten laid!" Ohh...harsh Dana. That one was low. I don't know how I got so angry so quickly. I can see his eyes darken in anger, and quickly, he flips me around so that I am now against the door. My back slams into it, hard, painful, and he glares at me in spite. I know I probably shouldn't have said what I just did, but there is no way for me to take it back now. "How the hell can you possibly think that that's what this is all about?!" he hisses, "How?! After all you and I have been through together, how can you look me in the eye and say that?!" "Please Mulder...." "The way I looked at you..." "God...just go..." "The way we----" "PLEASE!" my plead isn't as firm as I would have liked, and Mulder presses my shoulders into the door. "I want the truth Scully!" "Damn you Mulder, that IS the truth!" "No- No It's Not!" "Yes it IS!" He takes a breath and pauses before he speaks. "You're afraid." Shit. Warning, HIGH RISK! Extreme Caution! Retreat Dana, retreat!! "Shut up Mulder..." "You're afraid that you want this as much as---" "I said Shut UP Mulder..." "You're afraid of me aren't you?" I can't take this anymore. His arms are pinning me down, my heart is racing out of control with adrenaline, and all I want to do is let him win. All I want is for him to lower his mouth to mine and shut ME up. Knowing that I won't allow that to happen is so frustrating, so infuriating that I could scream forever. Damn you to hell for making me feel this way Mulder! I can't handle it any better than you can! "I am not AFRAID of anything!" "Bullshit..." "I am NOT AFRAID OF YOU!!!" He stares at me as I pause to catch my breath just long enough to realize that I started screaming. "Damn it Scully!" He yells back, "yes you are! Would you just stop with the 'I'm fine' crap and let me through that un-penetratable wall of yours for maybe half a SECOND!" Silence. Oh yeah Mulder, like you've earned the right. Like I haven't ever chased you down the proverbial rabbit hole before. Like you've never shut me out. Like you've never pushed me away What is this, a one way street?! What gives you the right?! Rage, thy name is Dana Scully... "So you can do what Mulder?" I spit disgustedly, "Screw me and then ditch me like you always do?" My words are angry, sarcastic and raw, and his are growing angrier by the second. "What the hell are you talking about?" he roars menacingly. "Oh don't play stupid with me Mulder, because you know exactly what I'm talking about" I hurl back. "You tell me you need me, that I ground you, that I complete you, but as soon as you find a lead to your truth, a link to Samantha, you leave me behind without so much as a word. What's that phrase Mulder? Do as I say, not as I do?, is that it?" He doesn't interrupt me and so I ramble on, saying the words that should have been voiced a long time ago. I don't think I ever realized how much these feelings have been left to fester , to stew and bubble until this very moment. I think I've just realized that there's still so much hurt and so much left unsaid... And so my anger carries this hostile rant. "Scully Simpleton will always follow her partner wherever he goes, so why should HE ever have to open up to HER?" I hiss the words at him, turning each one into an obscenity. "Why should life be a two way street? After all, it's not like you've been shorted by the deal Mulder. I do as told, as always, just as YOU like it. Because it's not like YOU ever show consideration...or dare I say... A dose of appreciation. It's not like YOU ever let ME in! It's always when it's convenient for you, always when you need it, when it affects YOU, isn't it Mulder? So, excuse me if I try to guard my feelings a bit closely so that you don't trample them on your way to the truth!! Give me one good reason why I should let you in now!" "Scully---" "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just walk away!" His expression becomes stunned, as if I had just slapped him in the face, and In essence I guess I just have. "You'd walk away," he states dully. "I'd have reasons to take it into consideration" I reply, not even caring how hurtful I'm sounding. This is my defense mechanism against getting too close, against letting him inside my heart, my way of keeping him outside, and I can see that it's wounding the hell out of him. Fox Mulder is a man who has not had good reason to trust anyone in his life before me, and now I'm destroying that trust... I'd told him before, on numerous occasions, that I would never leave him, never desert him, and now I'm telling him that I don't want to stay... Guilt is beginning to course its way through my veins but I don't know how to stop this...I don't know how...Oh god, I didn't mean to say that.... "Then go," he growls lowly. "You want to get the hell away from me so badly, then go. Leave. Leave the X Files." Oh god...This has gone TOO far... I need to fix this...how can I fix this? "You want me to leave?" "What do you care? Apparently I don't give a shit, so why should you?" "Mulder---" "I don't want to hear it." "Mulder please---" "Just SHUT UP SCULLY!!" His voice is loud, injured, and I stare at him in shock. In all our years together, Mulder has never, not once, told me to shut up. "What?" I manage, my voice shocked and stuttered. I can't help it. I've never heard him say that to me. "I said Shut. Up. Scully. You've certainly said those words enough to understand the phrase. God forbid anyone should ever say it to YOU." "Excuse me?" "You heard me." My anger returns in spades. "Fine. Fuck you Mulder," I spit, and I'm almost shocked by my own words. I have never, not in the 5 years that we've been partnered together, EVER used such vulgar language with him. Not EVER. And actually, I find that it doesn't bother me as much as I know it should. I think that it would probably bother me more if I wasn't so incredibly pissed off at him. Because right now I actually find it kind of liberating HA! Take THAT Mulder! My anger now driving me, I try to wriggle away from him, to yank myself from his grasp, but I find that he's considerably angry too...not to mention considerably stronger... He smashes me against the door again, harder this time, and there's nowhere for me to go now. Literally. "Well I would," he comments sarcastically, but you seem to have a problem with the idea." My breathing deepens, my eyes narrow, and I feel rage, dark and unbridled spring from me. Of all the nerve! Of all the fucking nerve! I've never experienced emotions as powerfully as I do when I'm with Mulder, and it's completely encompassing. Thouroughly exhausting. When I feel love and affection for him, it takes over my entire body, drowning me from my head to my toes until I can't think straight, but when he makes me angry like this, I just want to kill him with a vengeance almost unheard of. God, he just makes me so ANGRY!!! Before I can even think about what I'm doing, my fist clenches and pulls backwards with shaky violence. My knuckles whiten, harden, and suddenly I've developed a weapon that slams upwards towards his jaw, hell bent on a course towards his right eye. He is quicker than I am though, and he ducks away swiftly, grabbing my fist with his own before it reaches his face. I can hear the audible "slap" our fists make when his hand closes over mine, as if he were catching a fast ball. I glare up at him, trying to control my hostility, my passion, my love for him and keep them all in check, but it's a damn hard thing to do, and I don't know how long I'll be able to stay in control. I'm going to kill him. "My my, Scully Simpleton. You're violent when you're angry," he drawls, and refuses to relinquish his hold on my fist. I glare at him in spite. I'm going to kill him. "Well it seems as if I'm not the only one," I retort, and I feel his breathing deepen. Mulder is trying to regain his equilibrium while I'm attempting to yank it out from under him. This is a fight that's been six years in the making. "So go on," I urge breathlessly. "Why don't you try it?." He does not respond, and his silence prompts me to continue. I can't remember the last time I was this angry and I don't think I'm going to be able to stop now. "I know you want to do it, I can feel it so why don't you just go ahead and hit me?" I honestly don't know why I said that. It was a stupid, STUPID ,completely unfounded thing to say. I know that no matter how angry Mulder gets, no matter how frustrated, he would never EVER hit me. He would never do that, never in any way injure me, never intently hurt me, and I have just made it look like I didn't trust him. Why the hell did I do that? I remember his words from earlier. "You're afraid of me." Now I don't know what I'm afraid of, and I'm terrified that I've just inadvertantly lost the one person that I vowed I would never hurt. EVER. Oh god, this is all my fault. His body is now pressed closely against mine, his face dangerously close, his arm pinning mine against the closed door, and I find that it's impossible for me to move. I can feel his warm breath on my cheek, his barely veiled anger coursing through him, and I dart my eyes back and forth nervously. The electricity in the air seems to almost crackle with intensity. When our eyes finally meet again, I can see that he looks hurt... very hurt...Oh no... I avert my eyes hastily. Apologize for goodness sakes Dana!! "God, Mulder I didn't mean---" The thumb and index finger of his free hand come to nudge my chin upwards so that our eyes meet, and I don't know what to do now. I'm terrified of what could happen next. "Scully I would never...." "I know...." Silence cuts through my words and I begin to notice just how close Mulder really is. Oh god...I hope he realizes that I know he'd never hit me. "Mulder, I'm sorry I---" "shhh..." He silences me as he caresses my cheek with his thumb, running smooth circles over my skin...working through his anger carefully... His touch...Oh god... Mulder awakens sensations in me that I never knew existed. "I kinda deserved it," he admits, and I'm eternally grateful to whatever god is out there for his acceptance. That I didn't just distance us forever with words said out of anger. "I mean...You were right Scully... about a lot of those things and I... I guess I'm...uhhh....sorry?" He waits for my response but I am completely silent. I've just reached the epiphany of the century. I've just realized why I love him. I watch him grin that adorable, lopsided grin of his and I know that this is why. "Yes, no, maybe so? Scully?" I clear my throat evenly. "Yeah, but you were right also Mulder, and I guess...I'm kinda... well just...thank you," I murmur, and I realize that our faces are moving closer. He's confused. So am I. "Thank you? for what?" "For just being you Mulder...for seeing through me... and.." I smile. "... For telling me to shut up." He smiles back. Neither one of us are good at the apology thing and this is as heartfelt as we've ever gotten thus far. My breathing mingles with his. His bangs graze my forehead. Is he going to kiss me? Does he even want to now? Oh god, I can't tell anymore. His face stops about an inch from mine and he stares at me through thickly veiled silence. Neither of us dares to move. I want him. He wants me. Neither of us moves. We are at a standstill... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXX NO-it's not the end!!!! Frustrating isn't it??? (Much of the feedback I have received tells me that you guys want them to kiss... well I'm just letting you know that I'm still not done... YET...) So should I continue with this?? Do you guys REALLY want to see them kiss? SEND FEEDBACK!! I beg of you. Title: A Simple Kiss: Mulder’s Chance Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Category: S, R , (with A and H) Rated: PG-13 (use of some bad language here and there) Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance/UST Summary: Will Mulder screw up the ultimate chance to finally kiss his partner? Disclaimer: If you think I own any of them, (Mulder, Scully, the stephen King movie “Carrie” OR the thighmaster) then you’re crazier than me. (And I’m pretty “out there”) So I can’t keep them. I have to put them back when I’m done having my fun. :: AUTHORS NOTE:: Well, once again, if you haven’t read parts 1 and 2 I advise you to do so at this time…k? If you can’t find them anywhere, then email me and I will send them to you…shipper’s honor. Well, ok here’s the part where I say alright, guys, this can either be the end or it can continue. If you like what you see and you think that there’s room for more, then drop me a line and tell me what you think. This doesn’t have to be the end of the road… Also, I feel the need to thank EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU who sent feedback. I tried to send out emails to each of you personally, but there was so much that I don’t know if I got to it all. And if I didn’t get to you, don’t think that you were missed because I treasure ALL of my feedback!! Without you, this story would not be possible. Ok, so on with the story. Here it is: A Simple Kiss: Mulder’s Chance By Jaime Lyn XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX If there is one phrase in the history of male/female relationships that has ever rung true, one that would be EXTREMELY appropriate at this moment, one that has served as the universal excuse for stupid men around the world, it is definitely the one that I am about to re-iterate to myself. I. Do. Not. Understand. Women. At all. Ever. Actually, to narrow down the field a bit, I don’t understand Scully. At all. Ever. Well, no, I guess that’s not ENTIERLY true…I mean, I KNOW her…Kinda…sorta… I know what her favorite color is, I can pinpoint her nervous habits, her “angry” habits, and I know what her favorite food is and how she takes her coffee but…. At times like this, I find that I don’t really know her at all. Her thought processes, what makes her tick, her reasons for feeling things… And if ever the subject was broached, I know she’d probably shrug and tell me that don’t know all those details because I’ve never asked, never bothered, but then again that’s not the entire truth either. The real truth is that I don’t ask because I’m too afraid to know the answers. I don’t inquire because I’m afraid of the implied intimacy… the heightened emotions that always accompany such overtly personal questions. There’s just something about the idea of possessing such information about her, of knowing what she thinks about, what she thinks of ME, that scares me to death… So for that reason I don’t ever inquire… Well, no…actually, even THAT’S not completely true. The real and total truth of the matter is that I HAVE inquired. Once…I think. Once or twice or maybe more… But all she ever says is “I’m fine” or “Drop it Mulder,” and so I do---without much of a fight usually. I think that it’s my way of “playing it safe” in that respect. Man, is that fitting or what? I’m too afraid to ask and she’s too afraid to tell. So if you looked at it THAT way, then technically we’re perfect for each other… Of course, if I were ever to explore the reasons behind her numerous, patented “Don’t fuck with me Mulder, just drop it” responses, they’d probably remind me of that age-old question regarding chicken and the egg… Does Scully not tell me because I act so indifferently, or do I act so indifferently because she doesn’t ever tell me? It’s the paradoxical question of the century with no possible answer…And if she’s ever figured it out, she’s never clued me in. But then again, I guess I don’t mind all THAT much… Because whatever we’ve been doing so far has worked…for awhile now, at least from a professional standpoint that is, and I’m pretty content with my work… For the most part… I mean, I’m not a prying, inquisitive kind of guy, I never have been, but that doesn’t necessarily have to mean that I don’t listen to her, or that I’m totally oblivious to what she says and does… Does it? Cause, you know, I DO notice her… I do… I may not inquire all that much but that doesn’t mean that I don’t notice… that I don’t care… because I do… God, how I do. I really REALLY Do… But then, I think she knows that by now. Or at least, I HOPE she knows that by now… I’ve always assumed that she did because she never bothers to display any kind of melodramatics to get my full attentiveness. Because sometimes, she can be as aloof as I. Because she doesn’t relish the extra attention and neither do I. God, I hope I haven’t assumed wrong…. It’s just so goddamn hard to tell though, when neither one of us wears our hearts on the outside like overcoats. She, mostly because she just knows better, and I, well, I don’t do it because I know I’ll just lose the overcoat anyhow….Misplace it… Just like the mug she got for me last Christmas… Where is that damn mug anyhow? It’s like, it’s there one minute and then--- “Mmmm….Mulder?” Scully’s breathily whispered words abruptly interrupt my brief reverie, and I am jolted back to the situation. Reality somehow finds me locked in an embrace with my beautiful partner. Damn. How the hell did I get so distracted with her arms around me like this? Why is it that my mind chooses to wander at the oddest times? How do I space out like that? Especially when I’m here with Scully… Scully… I find myself hypnotically staring into those half-closed, sparkling sky blue eyes of hers, and all at once, the feeling of Scully’s breath upon my cheek is making it increasingly harder to think in a straight line… Uhhh…I meant straight … Harder to think straight ….yeah that’s what I meant…I think… Oh god… This is…unreal… I’m standing WAY too dangerously close to the woman that I have secretly wanted for years, and as a result of it I’m finding it hard to remember even my own name. What is it again? Something, something Mulder, I think… Her arms are encircled around my neck, her fingers painfully wonderful at the back of my hair, her lips slightly parted, forming a perfect oval, and I find myself absolutely transfixed by them. My god, if I didn’t know any better, I’d definitely say that my partner is giving me a very effective “Come fuck me” look. Oooooohhhhh…good lord…. Heart racing… adrenaline surging…. Can’t think, can’t think… Oh, if this isn’t the EPITOMY of irony… I’m a man with a PH.D in psychology from Oxford…Graduated near the top of my class…I’m a trained FBI agent. A certified forensic psychologist. I can profile psychotics, analyze evidence, deduce and rationalize…and yet… If you asked me what existed beyond these walls, beyond Dana Katherine Scully, right now, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. Because right now I’m terrified and scared “stupid’ over my partner. My beautiful, intelligent, incredibly confusing partner… I’m so utterly baffled by her, and yet I’m so completely in love with her…I just don’t know what else to do with myself… of course. And doesn’t that just fit so perfectly? My life is already a raving disaster, so why not throw another log onto the fire? Because, you know it figures that I’d fall for the one person in my life that somehow, although I know her better than my own mind, is apparently a complete enigma to me. A puzzle that I’d never been able to solve…It just figures that I’d fall for the one person that I know I could never hope to understand…or, for that matter, have. And so, knowing my penchant for trouble, I often wonder… Could it be that maybe, just maybe, I want her because can’t ever have her? Because there are just so many reasons why I can’t love her, can’t hold her----at least not in any romantic sense anyway, so of course I’m inexplicably drawn to her…Like a moth to a flame? Is it because I crave the danger, the desire, the allure of teetering so close to the line that we’ve always treaded upon? Suddenly I think of her lying in bed with cancer. Of calling my name in the darkness… Of holding my hand when I’m weak… A bombardment of flashing memories, so like a fast moving slide show, makes its way over my brain and crashes into my heart. No. I’m only kidding myself if I try to believe that the allure of “forbidden fruit”, or in my case, “forbidden Scully” could be the reason that I want her. Because deep down, I know what the real reason is… and it’s as simple and elemental to me as the process of my lungs taking in oxygen. I’m in love with her. Hopelessly. Ridiculously. With every breath and word and nuance. With every smile and laugh and tear. I’m in love in every possible way with everything about her…and there’s just no way around it… even if I often feel as if ‘love’ doesn’t appropriately describe it. Because what I feel runs so much deeper… Oh… Mmmmm… Scully’s doing that thing with her fingers on the back of my neck again and it’s driving me insane. Because I’ve already decided to myself that I wouldn’t kiss her until she told me to… Because only 5 minutes ago I thought she wanted me to leave. But now she wants me to stay? I don’t get it. I’m also starting not to care…. My body seems to have other plans for me…. Ok, so I may not understand the woman, but good lord… I DO want to kiss her! Right now…right here… Long and hard… deeply, passionately…and then I want to rip that blouse off and wrap my arms around her and… Woah. Hold ON!! Stop the train ride buddy boy!!! This is Dana SCULLY, remember? She’s your friend…Your partner. My very ATTRACTIVE partner… Your very UNATTAINABLE, very PROFESSIONAL partner… Professional as in work. Work as in “hands off.” “Hands off” as in…. Shit. My proverbial train flies off the tracks and into a ditch. Oh yeah…Damn it….Why does rationality always have to win over what I want? Because you can’t have what you want and that’s all there is to it, my practicality argues with me. Why is it I always feel like a little kid who never gets anything he wants? I want the truth and it’s consistently denied me. I’m lied to on an almost daily basis and my trust in others is fleeting—if at all. I search for the whereabouts of my sister and I’m shoved down at every turn, stopped at every crossroad, beaten down on every path. I ask for justice and when have I ever gotten it? When is it ever my turn? I think I must have pissed off some major deity in a past life. Because right now, the thing I want most is for my partner to be lying naked on a bed of silk pillows, crooking her finger seductively and whispering “Come Hither” to me, and I know that “fantasy” is all that it can ever be. Damn, I have a sick SICK mind… Scully’s right. I watch way too much pornography. “Uh, Mulder?” I hear again, and I hazily realize that my brain had begun wandering while Scully was waiting for my next move. Waiting to see if I was going to, indeed, kiss her. I realize that my eyes have fallen out of focus, clouded over, and, for some ungodly reason, have been staring past her, fixated on some far away point of the motel wall, as she’s been staring at me completely baffled. Fuck. Great. Now I’ve done it… Christ! How the hell does that happen to me? Why do I seemingly fall off the earth when I think like that? I’ve always assumed it was just part of being a profiler and psychologist but god! To lose myself like that in the middle of something so..so… well it’s just plain sick. Her hands fall away from my neck to run a course down the expanse of my chest, and I know that before long they won’t be on me at all. Damn it, why is it that I never notice I do those things before it’s too late? She probably thinks that I’m either about to keel over or that I don’t want her at all. And the latter couldn’t be farther from the truth. God, what is WRONG WITH ME?! She stares at me concerned for a moment, then slightly agitated, and I realize that we were on the verge of sharing something very passionate, very profound when I spaced out. I remember, vaguely, her saying something along the lines of “Thank you for telling me to shut up,” and then I fell out of reality for a bit. So consumed was I with wanting her, with trying to analyze what I was feeling, that I completely forgot she was standing here for a moment. Great. Like I haven’t done enough completely unexcusable things this evening. It’s just absolutely amazing how I manage to top myself on “The scale of assholes”, every time without even trying. Good going Mulder, you are now officially, the king of LOSERS. “Sorry Scully,” I apologize pathetically and she raises an eyebrow. “ I guess I just kinda spaced out there…” Her eyes close mercifully and she sighs, taking a long deep breath---it’s a motion that I know all too well. Oh no…warning…. I’ve just MAJORLY offended her… And I can’t say that I blame her either… I mean, ‘Sorry Scully I spaced out’ ??? HEL-LO! What the hell was I thinking?!?! Another sigh is released. Crap… Whenever she sighs like that, it’s usually the indication of a giant lecture or a giant let down, and I just can’t see either one as being especially productive at this point. Please don’t ask me to leave again Scully…. I watch as she withdraws her face from mine and moves away from me like a deflated balloon. NO!! You IDIOT, Mulder!! Now she’s upset. Look what you’ve done!! Why is it that I always manage to hurt her no matter what I do? How is it that she always ends up in pain? I mean, I feel like no matter how hard I try to protect her or do my best to keep her safe, in the end, she just ends up angrier and more hurt than she was beforehand. I just don’t get it. What am I doing wrong? I mean, doesn’t she know that I’d give up my life for her in a second if need be. In a heartbeat without thinking twice. No questions asked, no hesitation, just a simple “Take me and not her because I’ll do anything…” and that would be the end of me, doesn’t she realize that? Because the truth of the matter is that I love her. More that life, more than the desire to wake up in the morning and know that all my limbs are intact, more than anything I could ever imagine…I just…love her. It’s a simple idea I’ve learned to accept. But then, what if it’s that love that drives her away? That tendency of mine to act like she’s going to break in half when she’s not. What if I’m pushing her way unintentionally and I don’t realize it? Because if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that Dana Scully doesn’t appreciate being protected OR coddled. She doesn’t like to admit to defeat, refuses to believe when she needs my help, and she CERTAINLY doesn’t like to display any weakness of any kind. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so much in control, so seemingly strong, and yet so confused at the same time. And I just wish she’d let me in… I can tell that she’s confused and hurt right now, but I also know that she doesn’t want me to see it. It’s just another one of those things I’ve never understood about her. How can I be the person she trusts most in the world if she doesn’t trust me enough to let me in? And you know that hurts. I’ve never told her that it does, but it does. It really, really does. She never EVER lets me see that far inside of her, and I think that maybe it’s because I somehow compromise some part of the control that she values so much. Because I’m pushy when I’m not being evasive. And sometimes I guess I try too hard to be let into places she doesn’t want anyone to be. And then other times I push her away because I’m so frustrated with her. I ditch her out of fear that I will let something slip, that I will demand the truth …that I will admit to HER my truth… About what she is to me… The desperation of my need to keep her in my life… I will end up driving her away because of my insecurities… My aloofness could very well prove to be my downfall. And I’m so terrified that she will one day leave because of it… My eyes are glazed over in thought once again, and when I blink, I can see that she is considerably angrier than before. Because I just did it again. I just spaced out. Oh Great. Man, I am just RACKING up the points tonight… “Hello? Mulder? Could you just help me pick these up so that we can get some sleep?” I stare at her confused for a moment before I realize what she’s talking about. She’s pulled away from me, I suddenly register, and my heart sinks. Her arms aren’t touching me anymore, her face isn’t close to mine, and I know that she must NOT be happy with me. I am one stupid, STUPID son of a bitch! What kind of IDIOT gets distracted in that kind of situation?? Only me of course…And… oh. What is she talking about now? Oh yeah… The case file. The one I threw at her earlier so that I could watch my movie. “Mulder?” She looks at me expectantly and I realize that it’s a different game we’re playing now. We’re playing the “If you can pretend that this didn’t happen then so can I and I can do it better than you can,” game. This is Scully trying to reason to herself that we don’t feel what we do, that we don’t want each other, that this moment doesn’t exist and hasn’t been bulding for over 5 years… But it’s not working… I still want her. She still wants me. And by spacing off I had managed to inadvertantly give her an out; to give her the precious seconds that she needed to think, pull herself together, and pull away to try and regain her precious control. To keep herself from falling over the edge and kissing me. Damn it, Why didn’t I just kiss her when I had the chance?? “Oh…yeah…sorry Scully, I just uhh…” “Spaced out??” Her tone is icy cold, to say the least, and my continued speaking apparently isn’t making this situation any better. Just shut up jackass, I order myself. She doesn’t make another sound, and I follow her lead, working my way wordlessly down to the floor to try to help her gather fallen papers. God I’m stupid! She doesn’t look at me and I avoid her gaze. My eyes instead make their way over her tiny figure, unbelievably sexy to me, thin and lean, muscular and yet very vulnerable, and I suddenly realize how small she is. How easily she could break… No… I can’t think that way. My Scully doesn’t break…she just doesn’t… But she could, my brain reminds me. She could, oh so easily. “Uhh…Scully?” I ask, and she finally turns to me frostily. “What is it Mulder?” Her voice is terse and anxious. I can still hear the desire of only a few minutes ago making it waver slightly. Ok, so maybe this isn’t the right time… “Uh, nothing. Nevermind.” I gather more papers and she is silent for a moment, until I hear “Mulder?” And I turn to see her staring at me. “Yeah?” I respond, hopefully. We regard each other in uncomfortable silence. “No, nothing…forget it…” Her voice trails off and she gathers more papers. God, this is ridiculous. I clear my throat. “Scully?” She sighs. “What Mulder?” “I uhh..” “Yeah?” I’m losing my nerve… “Uhh…nothing. Not important. Forget it.” She raises an eyebrow suspiciously and then goes back to her task of organizing papers, although I can see that her hands are shaking, her knees are wobbly, and her mind is obviously elsewhere. I need to do something. I need to SAY something. I need to fix this mess I’ve started. “Uh, Scully?” She slams the folder down in anger and turns to glare at me. “GODAMN IT MULDER, WHAT IS IT?!” Shit, she’s pissed…Say something say something say something…. “Uh…Why don’t we watch a movie?” INTELLIGENT, I meant!! Say something INTELLIGENT damn it! Even she seems confused by that statement, her look of anger slowly being replaced by a mask of confusion. “Now?” she asks. She looks confused, staring at me as if to say “after that huge blow out you want me to sit here with you?” “Yeah, sure. Why not,” I reply and try to turn on my best “Mulder-grin.” I do it because it gets her every time and we both know it. Sometimes it even works better than my patented “Mulder-wounded-puppy” look, and that’s a hard thing to accomplish… I know that she’ll probably let me stay… Probably… Maybe?? Oh I don’t know where I’m going with this right now Scully, but please, PLEASE don’t make me go yet… “Mulder, it’s nearly 3 am.” “So?” “So I’m tired.” “Oh.” I try my best not to look as deflated as I feel, but I think that she sees right through me. She closes her eyes for a moment and sighs defeatedly before giving me that “Ok---I give up” resigning Scully look. Maybe I should just leave her alone… “Well I’ll go then,” I tell her softly and she touches my arm to stop me. “No, Mulder—wait…” she speaks hastily, quickly and I’m beginning to wonder if my sanity is ebbing. “You ahh…you can stay a little longer if you want…” Ok, now I’m confused. Is she mad at me or not? What the hell is going on? I do NOT understand women. I watch as she moves to turn the Tv set back on, and the papers are once again forgotten beneath our feet. Okaaayy… well I guess if it ain’t broke… I walk back over to the bed and plop myself down in front of it, using the foot of the bed as a headrest. “You sure?” I ask. She begins to nervously wring her hands as she nods. “Well, I mean, there’s still all this half finished paperwork that I should really get done…” “uh huh…” “Tonight, that is…If we ahh…If we both want to umm, leave tomorrow…Meaning I suppose I’ll have to forgo sleep anyhow…” “Yeah…” “So if you want to um, you know, stay and watch a movie…I mean…I guess it doesn’t matter…” “Uh huh…” Oh, she’s so full of it and MUST know that I can tell. She wants me here as much as I want to be here and God, this is eating me up inside. We stare at each other for a brief moment before she turns her head reluctantly to switch channels manually, furrowing her brow every once in awhile at the programming. “Uh, Mulder? I don’t think there’s anything---“ “Ohh…Look, Scully, the thighmaster!” She raises a weary eyebrow at my joke and continues her search. “Hey wait! Turn that back Scully!” She sighs. “What?” I smile again and she raises an eyebrow, her head turned towards me. I can still smell her shampoo…mmm… avocado I think… I start to point to the TV like an insolent five year old. “That!” I tell her. “Why? What is it?” I grin misheviously and she furrows her brows. “Carrie,” I reply, and she rolls her eyes at my childlike grin. “Oh, right. Carrie, of course. That was my second guess.” she stretches cat-like and moves to sit down… about 300 miles away from me. (Well ok, in actuality it’s only 3 feet, but it FEELS like miles…) I need to figure out a way to fix this. I need to get her over here. I need to smell her shampoo again… I need to kiss her… To make love to her… Why is it that my brain only seems to go in one direction half the time? Oh damn it, just think Mulder… “Scully?” She turns sideways and looks at me. “Yeah?” God, her eyes, her lips…I want… “Nothing, forget it.” Damn it, there I go with the stupidity again. It must be chronic foot in the mouth disease or something. She shoots me a weary look and turns back to the TV. Someone splattered in blood screams … Damn. That means the movie’s almost over… God, this is so beyond pathetic… Is this really “it?” This movie’s going to be over in 15 minutes and then it will be too late to do or say anything. Scully will go to sleep, I will go to my room, nothing will happen, and everything will be as it was before. Miserable. Unbearable. With me and my insensitivity and her with her reconstructed barriers, we’ll be right back at square one. Alone. Well, not TOTALLY alone but… we won’t be happy. We won’t be honest. We’ll be lying…again… to ourselves and to each other…. And I just don’t want to live that lie anymore. I can’t. I won’t. I need her. Even though she’s Scully. Even though she’s my partner. Even though I know that it’s wrong for a hundred zillion different reasons… Fuck. Why does she have to be Scully?? My brain is screaming and not happy with my sudden bout of confidence. Look but don’t touch it says… Feel but don’t act… Don’t ruin her life just because you’re being selfish! Don’t suck her in… But what if it’s already too late? What if it doesn’t matter at this point? I listen to her sigh and crack her neck. She looks troubled, to say the least. “What wrong?” I ask, and she turns to me baffled, as if coming back from a million miles away. “huh?” she asks. I smile. “Yeah?” “Huh?” “Yes?” “What?” “What?” “MULDER!!” She sighs again, this time in exasperation, and I can’t help but laugh. “Sorry,” I utter amused, thankful that I’ve broken the silence somehow, and she shoots me an exasperated glance. “ I don’t see what’s so funny,” she grumbles in true “Scully” fashion, and I can’t help but notice how incredibly cute she looks in her suit right now. How incredibly sexy… When Scully’s at work, she looks like she can take on the world. She’s one of those women who always dresses for power, success and respect---and they’re things that she gets---usually in very large doses from those who have seen her work. Because she’s incredibly professional, and damn good at what she does… But when Scully’s tired like this---letting her outfit hang loosely off her without caring about how silly or wrinkled it looks… Well, it’s just so… so darn cute. It’s so cute on her tiny body. I just… I don’t know any other word for it other than “cute.” And right now I’m finding that pout that she’s wearing very alluring. It’s so cute… And incredibly disarming at the same time…. Ok, that’s it. I can’t take it. I’m going to get her to sit next to me if it kills me… “Ok, Scully that’s it, I give,” I finally blurt out tiredly, “ I mean come on, you’re practically sitting in the next room. This is ridiculous…” She lets out a low, nervous chuckle and I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I smile. “Come on,” I prod. “I promise you I won’t bite.” She looks at me wearily. “At least not much,” I add, grinning goofily for effect, and the effort earns me a full blown “Scully smile. mmm….I love that smile… “Alright Mulder, but I warn you,” she quips. “I DO know how to fire a gun…” My grin widens… Good. This is good. She’s playing along. This is getting us somewhere. “Yeah I know---I’ve got the gunshot wound to prove it,” I reply dryly. “But I think I’ll take my chances.” I watch her inhale and then exhale deeply, a tinier smile than that last one crossing her face, and she proceeds to scoot her way across the carpet. My eyes trail her as she moves up close, cuddling next to me, resting her flaming red head of hair on my right shoulder so that I can fully smell her shampoo. Yes…it’s definitely avocados, I think… The cotton of her shirt is pressed up against my arm and I can feel her, warm and whole, and so very, very “Scully” next to me. The TV is blaring and the movie is obnoxiously loud, and yet I find that I can only think of one thing. Mine. My Scully. It’s such a possesive, ridiculous caveman like emotion, I know, but I can’t help it. I’m a selfish guy by nature, and the idea of sharing this woman with ANYONE males me recoil. I don’t want her in anyone else’s arms. I don’t want her sitting like this with anyone else… I am so grateful that she’s here with ME… Her arm gently brushing mine, her legs tucked comfortably underneath her… Oh god, the smell of her hair… Such miniscule sensations they are, but they’re all still enough to make bolts of electricity form in my spine and shoot out to everywhere in my body, forcing me to wonder why the air isn’t crackling. I want her… I want her… But I can’t have her. Man, I’m so frustrated. Her voice emanates from atop my shoulder. “Mulder, how many times have you seen this?” Small talk, I realize. “Uh…5 I think.” “Oh. Thought so.” Silence cuts through the air again and we are left with our thoughts for a moment. “Well how times have YOU seen it?” A pause. “huh? Me?” “No. The other Scully.” She slaps me playfully on the chest and I let out a mock gasp from her effort. The air between us has sufficiently been lightened and I’m eternally grateful. “Twice I think,” she replies thoughtfully. “Some guy took me to see it once…and then another time my friends and I---“ “What guy?” I interrupt suddenly, out of the blue, and she lifts her head. “Uhh… Jack I think,” she says softly, thoughtfully, as if recalling some tender memory, and I find that I’m jealous. Suddenly, ridiculously, insanely jealous… Of an event that happened over 5 years ago… God that’s just sick Mulder. Let it go already. I can’t… “We saw it at some cheesy, backwoods drive-in,” she continues faintly and frowns at some unspoken memory. She’s moved up closer to me now, not directly next to me, and not directly in front of me, but just close enough so that we can see eye to eye without craning our necks. Her hand is comfortably draped over mine and I’m painfully aware of it. She’s still sitting on her knees, and I’m still leaning up lazily against the bed, listening to her tell me things we’ve never even VENTURED to speak of before, and I find that it’s very enjoyable. How sadly amazing is it that this is the first REAL conversation Scully and I have ever had? My god, why haven’t I ever listened to her before? Why don’t I pay attention? Because I’m a jackass. “So it was a hot date?” I murmur softly and she grins faintly. “No, not exactly,” she says and smiles. “Halfway through the movie it started to rain and…” She trails off… Uh oh… I can feel her defenses rising again. No, don’t shut me out, please Scully… “And… what? What happened?” “Nothing.” “Scully---“ “No, forget I brought it up…“ I frown. Damn it Scully… “Why? What are you so afraid to tell me?” Oh no…she’s going to get angry now, I can just feel it. I shouldn’t have said that to her. I should have just kept my mouth shut. If that last fight was any indication of what she thinks when I tell her I think she’s afraid…. She looks at me thoughtfully. “I don’t know why,” she replies and it takes me by surprise. “Please tell me Scully,” I whisper and she breathes in deeply. “Why?” “Because I asked.” “But why Mulder?” “Because I want to know.” “No you don’t…” “Yes…yes I do…” I think that this is the first time we’ve ever actually had a discussion like this and she doesn’t know how to respond. She’s afraid to. I usually don’t ask her things like that and so she never has to bother telling me. Well, maybe now she’ll see that I don’t view her emotions as weaknesses. I’m sick of that game. Because I finally want to ask her… And I think she finally wants to tell me… Her eyes cloud over a moment and she regards my last statement. “Mulder…” I regard her silently and she sighs, beginning to speak again. “Haven’t you ever gotten so used to thinking and doing things a certain way, so used to… to keeping it all inside, that when everything finally came out it was all just a jumbled mess?” Hmmm…I wonder where that came from… Maybe I managed to break through after all… “Yeah,” I answer. My voice is hoarse, raw, and I barely recognize it. She runs her fingers up my arms and tickles the hairs there, causing goosebumps to rise and make their presence known. When she stops at my elbows, where my dress blouse has been rolled up, she rests her fingertips atop my arm lazily. God… This is driving me crazy… .She has got to know that I’m just about ready to jump out of my skin because she’s touching me like this. It makes my brain play out hundreds of different scenarios, millions upon millions of ways that this could turn out, and I know that none of them can possibly come true. Because even if I want her I can’t have her… right? No. Unnaceptable. I want her… badly… My fingers begin to run their own course along Scully’s arms and I feel her shiver slightly underneath my touch. Another scream from the TV… “He got a call for this case and left me in the rain,” she suddenly blurts out and I stare at her strangely. What is she---oh yeah.. Her story… PAY ATTENTION MULDER!! “Why?’ I ask stupidly, and feel like a fool for asking such an idiotic thing. This is obviously not easy for her. “Well he DID call me a cab…or at least he tried to…” she pauses to push a lock of hair out of her face and then continues. “He said it would be dangerous for all parties involved if I went with him… that I didn’t have enough field experience… That my being there could compromise his impending arrest.” She looks far away and I can see that telling the story is hurting her terribly. I squeeze her hand and she squeezes back with a smile. “It’s ok Mulder,” she assures me and goes on. “You know, I hated him for treating me like that. Like he had to make my decisions for me because I was somehow incapable. Like he cared more about his work than he did me.” “So what happened after he left?” She blinks a few times and I push away the same stubborn strand of copper that has stolen into her line of vision again. She follows my hand’s gentle motion with her eyes and I can feel her breathing quicken. My Scully… “What do you mean?” she questions, distractedly. “How’d you get home?” I ask softly. “Did you call the cab?” She shakes her head ruefully. “No ,actually… I sat in the rain and watched “Carrie” until the end, until some guy on a motorcycle offered to take me home…” “Scully? You rode a---“ “Yeah, yeah I did.” I never knew that and the idea astounds me. How amazing is it that I sit here and find that I don’t know my partner at all? That I don’t even know the first thing about her life experiences, her loves, her losses… her feelings? How is it that I’ve been so stupidly oblivious? I suddenly have an almost violent, sudden realization that I want to know more. That I want to know everything there is to know about Dana Scully and then some. That I want to talk to her and hold her, and do all the things that normal people do and take for granted. That I want for her to smile, a lot, every day…at me… Maybe it’s a silly thing to wish for but… I don’t care. I think I owe her at least that much, after everything that has happened to her because of me. “Now that I think about it, I can’t even remember the name of the guy…” She looks so serious and I can’t help but try to make her smile. “So then, you were ‘Biker Chick Scully’ huh?” I joke and she shakes her head morosely, letting out a brief chuckle. “Not a chance. I was terrified the whole time.” Her voice trails off and I run my fingers slowly up her arm once more. She sucks in a nervous breath. I gulp nervously in return. “But then I guess… I guess it was the desire within me, that insatiable need to rebel, that just brought up this irrepressible well of anger. It just happens sometimes. If I’m particularly frustrated or provoked… Occassionally it rises up and overrides my common sense and judgement. But then, I think that maybe everyone’s thinking gets clouded at times…” I never knew that about her either. She continues to amaze me. “So then…that ah, tattoo you got,” I suddenly say, totally out of left field, and quite aware that she could deck me quite easily at any given moment, “That was a rebellion thing?” She frowns for a moment. “I don’t know,” she replies thoughtfully. “Maybe. I think…” Her eyes look at me as if they’re searching for something, looking for answers, and I stare back into them, transfixed. Have her eyes always been that spectacular shade of blue or am I only just now seeing it? “You didn’t um, get it for that, uh …that guy----“ “Ed? No. Mulder, no I didn’t.” She runs a reassuring hand along the expanse of my arm as if to say “It’s ok, I understand why you’d ask,” and I am taken aback. I wonder how it is that she always knows what I’m thinking, sometimes before I even think it? How it is that she can see into me that way… It’s unreal…uncanny… “Oh.” I reply dully. “Oh, ok.” There is silence between us and I see that both of my hands have unwittingly found their way to her shoulders, my thumb stroking away wisps of hair behind her ear. Oh god…Haven’t we been down this road more than twice tonight? I don’t think that I can take it anymore… Just make conversation Mulder…Keep talking… If you can keep talking you can avoid…. Well, you can just Avoid “it”… Avoid “it” at ALL costs… “Did it hurt?” I ask, vaguely confusing myself and desperately trying to keep the conversation going. I figure that if I can keep it going, then we won’t have the opportunity… “What?” she asks, mildly distracted by something, as if she were staring out into space. “Did it hurt?” “Did what hurt?” I gesture feebily to her lower back and run my fingers along the small of it, grazing them across the spot where I’m pretty sure her tattoo rests. Recognition brushes across her pre-raphaelite features. “Oh…that… well…” She pauses, as if looking for the right words. I want to kiss her. “A little…” I need to kiss her… “Well, more that a little,” she admits and I cock my head to one side with a little half-smile. “Well then how’d you----“ “I closed my eyes,” she answers softly, and we are moving closer. The movie is over and the TV is nothing but a blur behind us. Her fingers move up and around my neck gently, and she adjusts her sitting position, moving her legs so that she can lean in towards me without falling to one side. I adjust my own so that I can pull her close, reaching upwards and snaking my arms securely around her waist, as one hand comes up to play with a lock of her fiery hair. I run an index finger languidly across a flushed cheekbone. I want her I want her I love her I love her… “You closed your eyes?” Our foreheads touch as electricity shoots through us and I feel her nod against me softly, briefly…Her eyes slowly close as if demonstrating her words… “yeah…” She licks her lips distractedly. “And then what?” I whisper, my face only millimeters from hers. “And then I just…” she trails off. “Just what?” “I…” Her breathing quickens and then slows as I edge in even closer, agonizingly slow and precariously close. “You…what?” Her voice comes as a feather soft whisper brushing across my cheek. “I guess I just stopped worrying and thought…” She pauses and touches her palm flat against my jaw and then caresses it behind my ear. “I thought…To hell with it…” My fingers press into her hair as our noses graze, our breathing mingles and our emotions collide. Sensations I never thought I’d feel rise up from within me, and I feel as if I might die of sensory over load right here and now as I touch her, as I let her touch me. God, I love this woman.Of this I am sure. “Did it work?” “I um, I can’t…remember…” “Well then don’t,” I reply breathlessly, and tighten my grip about her neck and waist. Oh we are soo close… “Ah, Mulder?” “Yeah?” I say softly, and see her smile briefly. “You can uh, shut up and kiss me now if you want…” I smile back. “Oh, well yeah that was going to be my next---“ Scully sucessfully silences me. All coherent thought is erased when her mouth finally touches mine… XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Anyone interested in what happens next?? I mean, I DO have some ideas…Er, that is…if you want em’. So please send Feedback!!! I love feedback. Feedback get you many stories and happy author…. ? Title: A Simple Kiss: Cell Phones and Interruptions Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Rated: PG Spoilers: None, really. Category: S, R, (and a teeny bit of “A” in this chapter) Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance Summary: Sometimes Mulder and Scully can never get their timing right…. Disclaimer: Like I said before, I still don’t own them. I never did and I never will. Authors Note: This is a very short chapter. Really, it’s just meant to be the transition from pure “MSR” To a bit of an X file. (And I know that that may not be what you were expecting from this story but…well Predictability is HIGHLY overrated, don’t you think?) So please go easy with me. This is my first attempt At writing an MSR/X File. (Although I promise the focus will CONTINUE to be MSR.) Once again, thank you to EVERYONE who has emailed me their feedback! This story wouldn’t be HALF of what it is without your loving support!! And now, I present… A Simple Kiss: Cell phones and Interruptions XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Scully… The name pounded and reverberated inside my skull until all I could comprehend was that one word…that one name… Scully… The sound of it floating around in my brain as my heart pumped faster and my adrenaline surged was nearly enough to drive me off the cliff of insanity. Mmmm… I find my lips echoing her words of not too long ago. “Again…” She smiles into my mouth and her lips touch mine in the lightest of feathery kisses. God Scully please, again… I feel her arms gripping my shoulders, moving northward to my neck, and then caressing the side of my cheek as she moves in for a better angle. Oh lord…. Her fingers slowly begin to tangle in the hairs of the back of my neck, and I can see that she’s so dazedly breathless, so close to me, so very, very real, and so very, very….Scully… My partner… My colleague… My… well I don’t even know what to call it anymore. We’re not lovers, and I believe this goes beyond the realm of friendship, so we are… Heading the wrong way down a one way street, or perhaps just the right direction on a new path. Christ, now I’m waxing poetical. This is sad. Well then, stop thinking so damn much and just FEEL instead, Mulder! Yeah right…Now there’s the epitome of irony right there. Funny…Wasn’t my brain ordering me to do the opposite of that only minutes ago? Seconds even? Dammit… My analytical mind needs to learn when to butt out of my personal life. “Mmmm…” I am yanked back from my analysis of all things romantic when I hear Scully’s mouth elicit a soft, nearly inaudible moan. Shit. I’m doing it again. I’m beginning to space out. Fuck… No, not again. I WON’T let it happen again. My brain begins to gently tingle and then wander to thoughts on how Scully smells; like avocados and that Dial soap, on what she feels like; like silk and smoothness, on how she… mmm….Scully must have have been eating M&M’s from the snack machine again… My left arm tightens gently around her waist as it smoothes away the wrinkles in her blouse. She tilts another way to find my lips and our noses graze gently, my fingers coming up to brush away a lock of her hair. Our lips have only touched but once so far, the first contact being extremely cautious, very tentative, as if afraid that the other would spontaneously combust upon contact, and we now desperately seek the right angle for our second… A kiss that will most certainly be explosive, mind blowing, intense and incredible… Because I’ve fallen insanely in love with my partner. And when I say that, I DO emphasize “insane”. Because it’s wrong, I know. It’s unpractical and very dangerous for both of us, not only professionally, but personally as well, because I’m sure there are plenty of people just waiting for this opportunity. Waiting for us to make the wrong move, to fuck up…or in this case, fuck… Well, I won’t get into that. After all, we’ve barely kissed… She pulls away slightly for a moment and I open my eyes to see her staring into them again. Her blue, liquid gaze seems to penetrate my hazel one, and we simply stare for a moment, unmoving, unblinking. Uncaring. Of the world outside the door. Of Skinner and the bureau and… Her fingers brush my cheek feather soft….once…twice… My own fingers move northward to capture her face between my hands, to hold her gently between my palms… God, she’s so small… Finally, she blinks… But says nothing. No words are necessary. Our eyes begin to drift closed again and I feel her drawing me near, her hands capturing me at the nape of my neck, her nose edging mine upwards slowly. I can feel her erratic breathing, her trembling fingers, and I know that she is just as nervous as I am. Because one light kiss is fine….very retractable when you think about it. Very ‘forgetable.’ I mean, if we pulled away now… We could get away with what has just happened. We could pretend that it never did. We could pretend that we haven’t kissed. Her upper lip edges its way gently across mine as I play at the ending strands of her fire red tresses. No, I suddenly realize. There’s no way we can take this back… X X X X X X X Oh god, his hands feel so good, his hair is so soft, his skin soo…. mmmm…. The next thought that crosses my mind is an errant one; A fleeting one that I know should probably be more than simply fleeting if I value my career or my respectability. I should NOT be feeling, thinking, imagining, or most importantly, DOING these things with my partner. I should not be caressing his neck, drawing him near, touching his lips, inhaling his scent… What is that anyhow? I pull away for a moment and stare into his eyes drunkenly. That scent…I need to figure out what it is… Oh god… I look like someone intoxicated, I realize. I SOUND like someone intoxicated. I’ve become hopelessly addicted to Mulder and I seriously doubt that there’s an 800 number that I can call to help me “kick the habit.” I wonder though… if alcoholics anonymous is “AA,” then Mulder could be what? “MA?” Mulder-holics anon----- Musk! That’s what that is… Musk and… sunflower seeds…salty ones… My brain congratulates itself. Wait----Mulder wears Musk? “Scully….” His fingers weave their way around to cup my face slowly and I feel such ridiculous, trivial thoughts beginning to combine and collide, falling to pieces around the sensations of his proximity. It’s blinding and intoxicating and… Wrong… Very, VERY wrong… I feel the magnetism of his breath on my cheek pulling us closer and I graze my nose against his nearly by accident. Well, sometimes Mulder’s nose just gets in the way. It’s not his fault, really. His breathing quickens and deepens, his fingers close around a lock of my hair, and we prepare to deepen the contact we’ve made only moments ago. A gentle kiss left ultimately unfinished. My upper lip touches his. They brush against each other like silk on silk. I want more. I need more. I faintly register that my last meal was a package of M&Ms from the snack- machine and I wonder if it’s noticeable… His fingers dance across my cheek and trace my jaw-line again as he whispers into my mouth. “My Scully…” The soft sultriness of words meaningless to anyone but he and I causes my heart to pick up speed and race insanely out of control, taking my pulse and blood pressure with it. Oh lord help me… Kissing Mulder is giving me a heart attack. Even contemplating it is going to give me a brain anyerism. The man should come with a Surgeon General’s warning tattooed to his forehead… The touch of electricity across my mouth causes my arms to tighten their grip about the back of his neck. Mmm… his lips feel so….so unbelievably… Mind shattering. Oh screw practicality… X X X X X X X We are so close… so close… I feel her lips gently grazing mine, slowly and softly, and it’s as if she’s simply waiting for me to take the initiative and deepen the contact. Oh god, Scully… Beyond the boundaries of chaste… Mmm…Scully…. Beyond the soft whisper of a touch she’s initiating… And I want it… So badly…. I want her. I need her. Damn. Kissing Scully is like alcoholism without the little bottle and string around your neck. Once you get a taste you need more…and more… and more… and… Oh, I want this so badly… So insanely… Oh god Scully, once this happens I’m not going to be able to stop… Her lips part only slightly, giving me silent permission to kiss her, fully and passionately and deeply, and I am almost there. We are so close to… “Brrrrrring! Brrrrrrrring!” Fuck! Damn it, damn it, damn it!! I was right there! I was about to… “Brrrrriiiiing! Brrrrrrrriiiiinggg!!” What the HELL is that?!?! X X X X X X “Brrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiingggggggg!!” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a more irritating, disruptive, and insanely disturbing noise in my entire life. I also don’t think I ever felt this incredibly, violently angry at an inanimate object. Of all the goddamn fucking lousy timing…. Mulder’s head lifts slowly from mine and for a moment, we are both motionless… stunned beyond comprehension… This is a really BAD excuse for an omen…. And to think, I don’t even BELIEVE in such ridiculousness! His eyes are desperately pleading with mine, begging me for understanding of how it is our timing always ultimately sucks. How every time we get this close, we are always jarred back to reality by some irritating thing or another… just before the good part. The rewarding part… I think I’m starting to rethink my beliefs about Karma… I wonder if Mulder thinks this is an Omen… X X X X X X X “Bbbbbbbbbrrrrrrrrriiiiiiingggggg!” Alright, this is nuts. What the hell is that ringing? I don’t get it. I mean, I know I didn’t order room service and it’s certainly not the TV… so what the hell is it? I stare at Scully in utter confusion. Whatever it is, I’m going to find it and destroy it. X X X X X X X Oh my god… He really has no clue that his cell phone is ringing…. X X X X X X X Oh my god… Is that really my cell phone? “BBBrrrrrrrrrrriiiiingggggg!!!” Scully pulls away embarrassed and clears her throat evenly. My heart suddenly deflates as I realize that the moment is over… And I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back. If I’ll ever get the opportunity…ever…again. “Mulder, your coat is ringing” I hear her say flatly, and I turn dumbly to stare at the trenchcoat I had left my cellular in hours ago. Dammit, not NOW! She closes her eyes in adamant frustration and looks to me as if she thinks this is some kind of ridiculous omen. Her voice finally comes out, strained and relieved at the same time. “Well? Are you going to get that?” Oh god, please tell me she’s not thankful for the interruption. Please tell me she doesn’t regret this… “BRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGG!!!” “Mulder?” Hmm… I wonder if that could be considered a rhetorical question right now. She stares at me pointedly, then gestures towards my coat and I sigh defeatedly. ‘No Scully,’ I think miserably. ‘No I don’t want to answer it. I want to kiss you until our lips are sore and then I want to make love to you…’ She raises her eyebrows at me as if to emphasize her question. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” I mutter unhappily, and gather myself up slowly from the floor. “BBBBBrrrrrrrriiiiiiiinggggggg!!” In one quick stride I am across the room and flipping open my cellular with only minimally controlled hostility. “BBBBBRrrrrrrriiiiiiinggggggg!!” This had better be very fucking good. If half the globe hasn’t been wiped out by an asteroid or something equally catastrophic, then I am most definitely going to kill whoever it is on this phone that had the nerve to interrupt us. My finger bitterly jabs at the “talk” button. “Mulder!” I snap into the tiny cell, probably more harshly than I should have, and the voice on the other end is small, frightened. It speaks with agonizing slowness and I listen carefully, my face whitening with each word as I realize that something very wrong is going on… X X X X X X You know if I didn’t know better, I’d probably say that Mulder and I are cursed. Doomed… Considering all things, it certainly wouldn’t surprise me any… My gaze falls wearily upon Mulder. He looks pissed and I don’t blame him. If I find out who’s calling him at this hour , I am most certainly going to kill them. Dammit! This was MY moment! MINE! I mean, don’t I ever get one?? Just ONE?! I run nervous fingers through my hair and close my eyes to try and control my anger. It’s ok Dana, I tell myself. Once he gets off you can go back to… Back to what? What was it that we were trying to do anyhow?? Ruin our friendship?? Our career?? Our precariously unstable relationship?? Are we insane?!?! Simple answer: yes. Oh god Mulder, hurry up and get off the phone…. I open my eyes to look up and I am met by the terse expression on Mulder’s features. My silent tirade abruptly stops. Shit. Something is VERY wrong. “I don’t understand…Who is this?? How did you know…why did you…hello? HELLO??” His face is white. He looks as if he’s seen a ghost. “Mulder?” My voice is high and concerned and I stare at him in confusion. He swallows loudly and glances back at me as he hangs up with whomever it was that interrupted us. He looks horrified. Terrifed. All at once I’m terrified for him. Oh god, something’s VERY wrong… XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Yup folks, that was the end of the “transition chapter.” It was short, I know, but it’s going to represent the beginning of a new direction for this story. It’s still going to be a VERY “MSR” oriented story, but now there’s going to be a bit of an X File thrown into the mix. I thought that perhaps it would be better that way, and I could draw out the story more. (After all, what’s Mulder and Scully without an X File right?) I also wanted to take it in a new direction. So drop me a line and tell me what you think. Should I go with it, or pretend that it was Mulder’s dentist on the phone telling him he’s going to need a root canal… Title: A Simple Kiss: Somewhere Under The Stars Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Rated: Pg-13 for brief use of language. Spoilers: Just an eensy weensy one for the movie. Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Category: S, R, A, some H too. (and a little X) Disclaimer: If you think I own em, you're crazier than I... Summary: Mulder and Scully were about to break the line of friendship... But what if there's something else going on that could either destroy of help them both? *Authors Note: Yeah guys, this is the beginning of the X File I promised. Still lots of MSR (Well, it IS an MSR story after all) and I promise to try not to take away from that. I just felt that it would be OUT of char acter for them NOT to be interrupted by some sort of X File. I mean hey, this IS Mulder and Scully here. It can't be ALL lovey dovey stuff. (But it comes close shippers don't worry.) And the X File is really shippy a nyhow. So please read and send me feedback. Feedback gets you more. :) Ok, well if you haven't read parts 1-4 I suggest you do so now, lest yo u will be confused. Ok, on with the show... A Simple Kiss: Somewhere Under the Stars XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Mulder hung up his cell phone horrified, his face completely white and de void of any desire he may have felt only moments ago, his eyes wide in fe ar. His cell phone dropped silently through his fingers and Scully watch ed it fall to the floor in confusion. she decided. Mulder took in a deep, cleansing breath and shivered as he felt a bolt o f unexplained fear shoot through him. Common sense and rational thinking told him that there was just no way he could have just heard what he tho ught he just had, but then again, he also knew that he could come up with no other reasonable explanation for it. There was just no mistaking the frightened voice on the other end of the phone; the fear in her words, t he urgency... he thought confused, and raised his eyes to meet his partner's concerned gaze. "Mulder?" she asked, sliding herself closer to him, and he backed away apprehensively. His brain began to fog, and for a moment, the room seemed to have a stran ge tilt to it, forcing Scully to come in and out of focus as he tried to make sen se of it all. Mulder thought with a fearful clarity, Only a few days earlier, Mulder had woken from a sound sleep drenched in sweat, dumb with confusion, recalling every detail of a dream that had ma de no sense to him at all. He had spent hours that night, and then the ne xt, trying to make sense of the disjointed images, the odd sounding names with familiar faces, until finally he was unable to think about it anymo re; to come up with a rational reason for an irrational dream. By the fou rth night of it, although he had given up, deciding that it was only a dr eam, that after all, everyone had strange dreams, he still found it distu rbing and rather distracting. For a brief moment he had even pondered te lling Scully, but he knew she had been irritated enough already. She was definitely NOT in the mood for for his eccentricities. And so for that reason, he had not relayed what he had dreamt to Scully after that first night in the hotel...or the second...or the third and fourth... Besides, that first night of it had not been unpleasant. Strange perhaps, but not particularly unpleasant, and so he had kept it to himself. Ther e was, after all, simply no reason to worry Scully over something so triv ial, something that was really nothing at all, so he decided not to tell her. She'd only think he was nuts anyhow. But then it began to get stranger and stranger and the dreams persisted, like a story playing itself out during the course of his unconscious mind , and he started to worry a bit. By the time the fourth dream had come t o him, it had turned into an all out nightmare, the events of it unfoldin g in a such a way that he was powerless to stop it. He could even remember waking up with the feeling that Scully had somehow burned to death, the smell of smoke still strong in his nostrils. He wa s almost positive that if he hadn't heard her normal morning ministration s coming from next door, he would have surely barged into her room to che ck and see that she was still breathing. It just was downright terrifyin g... not to mention way beyond the point of just plain disturbing. So when Scully suggested that they do case write ups in her room so that they could leave earlier the next day, Mulder decided that it would probably b e for the best if he stayed. He knew that he needed to clear his head, t hat he just needed to stop thinking about it, and so figured that spendin g time with his beautiful co-worker would probably be sufficient distract ion. And of course, just as predicted, it had done just that. As a matt er of fact, by the beginning of their evening together, so far were the e vents of the dream from his mind, he had almost forgotten about them comp letely until that strange phone call. Mulder thought as he stood, watch ing the room sway back and forth like a really sick joke, while desperate ly trying to homn in on his partner's voice. A part of his brain warned and the room swayed even more. His mind rehashed a disjointed piece of his subconscious as if in slow mo tion. <"I don't know what you're talking about, but my name's not Scully..."> He shook his head to try and relieve the pressure on his brain but was un successful. <"Not Scully... Do you remember? My name is..."> Mulder's knees began to buckle and his legs gave out as he crumpled to th e floor in shock. "Mulder! Jesus!" Scully was next to him within a heartbeat, supporting his weight and help ing him to the bed terrified. She could feel him weakly struggling, feeb ly trying to get her off of him, but at this point, she became the strong er of the two. "Mulder, it's ok...It's ME Mulder, just...calm down..." Her arm hanging loosely about his shoulder, Scully gently led him to sit down as she pressed her palm to his forehead gingerly, running her finger s across the smooth skin that her lips had touched only moments ago. Her eyes ran over the lines of his face worriedly. she thought sullenly. Not letting go, Scully tightened her grip around the back of Mulder's sho ulder blades, afraid that if she got up, he would fall from her grip like a wilted flower. His breathing deepened, labored to an extent, and she made soft cooing no ises to try and calm him down, the reasons behind this sudden unexplainab le act still lost on her. Mulder blinked a few times and felt his vision beginning to return, his s tomach beginning to settle again. A few deep breaths later and he regist ered that someone's arms were around him. Soft gentle arms that he knew very well. "Scully?" "I'm here," came the simple response. Mulder closed his eyes and took in the sound of her voice, the soft melod ic quality, the enrapturing musicality of it. <"help me,oh god, help me please! Burning...I'm burning, help...please. 2E."> Mulder eyes snapped open and he jumped from the bed abruptly, sending wav es of pain coursing through his head. "Mulder?" Scully asked alarmed, and he did not respond. <"Mulder, help me please...Mulder..."> The voice on the phone had been unmistakable...It was Scully's voice. He would know it anywhere. It had been her voice on the phone and yet how in the world could that be? The person he was looking at was Dana Scully a nd yet so was that haunting voice. It was impossible. Co mpletely ridiculous. "Mulder, talk to me," he heard from in front of him, and flashed back aga in. The voice that had been Scully's and yet was not Scully's rang in his hea d over and over like a mantra. he thought confused, an d stared at his red-headed partner in earnest. She nodded slightly, as i f saying "It's ok, I'm here Mulder, please explain this to me," and Mulde r sat down onto the plush carpeting with a sigh. He watched Scully stari ng at him intently, perhaps making sure that he wouldn't faint dead away, and then she slowly mirrored his actions. Her body came to rest just sho rt of his, resting gently upon her knees. Her eyes seemed to convey more than any words ever could, and Mulder suddenly felt like a total cretin. Scully touched his arm gently and ran her fingers along the smooth surfac e of his skin. She stopped at his bicep and worked her way down again sl owly, reassuringly, and touched her fingertips to his, squeezing gently. "Something's wrong," she declared softly, and he looked down as if ashame d. "it's something you're afraid to tell me." His saddened gaze wandered into her eyes, still afraid of actual words, a nd so he let her find them for him. "It's something you should have told me but didn't. " He nodded slightly. "Something that concerns me?" He nodded again. "Mulder..." She squeezed his hand again. "Mulder, I need for you to tell me, ok? Someone has obviously done something to upset you, and I need t o know who it was...or what... Was it that person on the phone? Somethin g else? What triggered this Mulder? What's bothering you?" He shook his head and pulled his fingers from hers, choosing to avoid her gaze, while instead locking his eyes upon the fiery tresses that fell in to her vision. He used a gentle sweeping motion to lightly brush one awa y. "Scully---" "No," she interrupted in a fierce whisper. "Don't you tell me that what just happened here was nothing Mulder, because I know that game all too well." He sighed. "Tell me what just happened on that phone." His eyes wandered into hers and he touched his fingers to her cheeks soft ly, trying to memorize every plane and line with his fingertips. Scully reached up with a hand of her own and clamped it around his, her hand loc king over Mulder's like a vice. "Tell me," she whispered. Mulder gulped. "I've been having ... these dreams, Scully," he started, and she leaned h er forehead in to touch his. The softness of skin against skin, of his D ana Scully being so close to him, of her wanting to be so close to him, gave him the strength to continue with his story. "What kind of dreams?" she whispered, and boldly kissed the tip of his no se. her brain echoed again. Mulder sucked in a breath and their cheeks brushed gently, their breathin g hot and labored as they fought to make sense of so many things, and yet hold onto their self-control at the same time. Scully's lips ran softly along the course of his flushed skin, and Mulder found himself losing it again. "Scully," he whispered breathily. "If you don't ahh...stop that, I'm not going to umm...be able to..." Scully blushed and pulled away slightly, staring into his eyes for a mome nt, her skin slightly glazed over with the desire of wanting him again. "Sorry," she whispered, somewhat disappointed, and then pulled away slowl y, using her arms as leverage to pull herself onto the bed. Mulder gave her hand a quick last squeeze and leaned up before he stood, interlacing his fingers behind his back, beginning a forward motion that would propel him to pac e the room. "It was...weird at first but not...not a bad weird Scully, it was like... " His brow furrowed as he fought to find the right words but none were fort hcoming. "Mulder? What? What was it like?" He pursed his lips at Scully's gentle prodding and continued slowly, tryi ng to convey to her exactly what he meant. "It was like I was me, but I wasn't me, and then you were you...but you w eren't." Scully stared at him in confusion, not quite catching the whole picture, and Mulder sighed resignedly, pulling himself down to kneel in front of h er. "I saw you, Dana. I held you, I kissed you but..." He paused, searching her eyes to try and make her understand what it was that even he could n ot. "It was as if I was living through someone else, seeing their experi ences, looking at you as if you were not you." Scully's expression was serious now, trying desperately to understand wha t this had to do with Mulder's phone conversation, and what it had to do with her. "When?" she asked softly, and Mulder pressed his lips into a thin line. "Ever since we got here," he admitted distractedly. "But I didn't even gi ve it much thought until the other night, the last part----last night, bu t even then I didn't think..." Scully pressed on. "What happened Mulder?" Mulder frowned as if he wished she hadn't asked. "Fire," he whispered, as if regressing back into his dream, and Scully bi t her lip. She knew that fire was the one thing that terrified Mulder t he most, besides the thought of losing her. "Mulder, it was just a dream---" she started but he interrupted as if hyp notized. "I was...we were... I was going to tell you I loved you... I loved you Ka therine, but then the fire... I don't know what happened, I tried to stop 2E..to save you...you called me..." Scully's eyes widened in fear as she watched the change in Mulder's expre ssion, the glassiness of his gaze, the way he looked past her into the wa ll somewhere. She had seen that look in his eyes more than once tonight, and now she was beginning to realize why. she thought, seeking desperately for a rational explanation to cling to. She simply refused to believe th at Mulder was being haunted by some benign ghost. She decided. "Mulder," she whispered and touched his arm. "Mulder, where are you? I need for you to come back to me..." Blinking, Mulder tried to refocus his gaze on Scully, and rested his hand upon her knee. "Fire," he repeated. "It was everywhere and I tried to save you Scully. You called to me but I couldn't save you." His eyes looked full of anguish and pain and she pulled him close, wrappi ng her tiny arms around him to press him into a tight embrace; to let him know that she wasn't going anywhere. She felt his fingers caress her ne ck through her hair as he held her, leaving only briefly to run a course up and down her back as if to assure himself of her presence. She grabbe d one hand possessively and held it over her heart, knowing full well what he needed to hear. "See Mulder? Beating strong as ever. I'm not going anywhere yet, I prom ise you." He gulped and nodded, pressing lips to her cheek gently, feeling the silk of her skin underneath his mouth. He sought her touch as if it were a g uiding light, and in so many ways, for him it was. "I'm sorry...so sorry..." She stared at him strangely and felt chilled. "For what? Mulder...What brought this on? These dreams? And why..." s he sighed and wondered for the briefest of moments if she should even bro ach the subject, seeing as how he never even realized what he said. "Why did you call me Katherine?" She watched as his eyes darkened slightly and he pulled away, much to her disappointment. "I never said that," he declared confused, and looked back into her expre ssion. "Yes, you did," she argued gently, "And I think I need to know why, if we 're ever going to get to the bottom of this." "But I never said it Scully, I never..." his voice trailed off. "What? Mulder, what is it?" "I'm remembering..." "what?" "shhh!" Scully thudded her hands against the bed in frustration as she gritted he r teeth. This whole night had been one giant frustration after another, and now she had Mulder's "guilt" dreams to contend with. she wondered. she stopped herself in mid thoug ht and grimaced. "White nightgown," he said suddenly, blurting the words out as if trying to recover all the information before it slipped from him again. "White with...a trim of some kind...pastel flowers maybe? Spaghetti straps...low back, u mm..." Mulder fell back into his memories again, and this time it was Scully who paled. she thought. Suddenly, she felt Mulder's gaze heavily pinning her again, and she looke d back at him, unnerved. "What? Scully, what's wrong?" Silently, Scully moved from the bed to where her suitcase lay, propping i tself lazily up against the night table. "I forgot to pack enough,um night clothes and..." she reached around and snatched the suitcase from the side of the bed, pulling it up and over th e edge. Mulder circled the edge and came up just short of her, leaning h is hands down beside her arms, feebly trying to figure out where she was going with this. "It was um, early when you called so I just grabbed some things out of my dresser and when I got here," she paused and took a breath. "When I got here, I realized that I was one pair short. That I pulled out the wrong thing..." Mulder watched as Scully dug around until her fingers finally found what they were looking for, and she pulled it up through the contents of her s uitcase. He sucked in a breath. It was the self same nightgown from his dream. "I never wear this," she explained hurriedly, as if she felt that the act of wearing a nightgown could make her seem any less "Scully." "It was...Well, Melissa gave it to me a long time ago and I kind of grabb ed it when I was rushing around, and..." Her voice trailed off. "How...how did you know I owned it?" Mulder ran a weary hand through his hair and let out a breath he wasn't e ven aware he had been holding. "I DIDN'T Scully," he tried to assure her but she was not convinced. "No, Mulder, I can't believe... I mean, you must have seen it somewhere.. 2EWere you... Were you in my suitcase Mulder??" Her voice was almost accusing, as if she thought he'd do something so cal lous as to invade her privacy, and he was taken aback. "What? Scully, no! Of course not! Why would I...Jesus Scully! What do you think I am? Some kind of---" She waved a surrendering hand in his direction and let out a deep sigh. "No, I know you're not Mulder, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." She frowned a nd plopped back down onto the bed. "I just don't see how you would...wel l at any rate, it must be an odd coincidence. Either that or you just saw it somewhere else..." Mulder shook his head faintly. "No," he breathed, settling next to her on the bed, "No, I don't think so 2E" "Then what DO you think Mulder? What is this all about?" She watched as his index finger moved to trace the small patterns of the nightgown's bodice. "Were you planning on wearing that tonight?" he querried, and she blushed 2E "Well, I..." She looked down. "I didn't want to wwear what I did yesterda y andconsidering this was all I had---" He blew air threw thinned lips annoyed, and Scully paused in mid-sentence 2E "Scully... is that a yes or a no?" Her eyes moved to meet his at the irritated tone of his voice, and she re plied icily. "Yes, Ok? that's a yes." He looked down again and removed his fingers from the silk. "I was afraid of that," he said, and Scully cocked her head to one side. "Why?" she asked confused, and Mulder felt as if the walls were going to close in, as if his life were just one giant X File, and as if he would never have any answers for the woman he loved more than life itself. "I don't know..." he breathed and closed his eyes. "I just have this fee ling..." He trailed off and the room was bathed in silence for a pregnant moment. "Mulder, you still haven't explained this to me." He didn't answer, and Scully moved to put the nightgown away annoyed, sud denly feeling the urge to kick him out of her room rising up within her a gain. Goosebumps rose upon her arm, and she felt him touch it gently. "No," he whispered. "No, please don't. You always looked so beautiful i n that color." Her brow furrowed and she felt as if she were talking to someone else ent irely. A cold chill swept through her, and she felt as if Mulder wasn't even Mulder anymore. her brain spoke out. "Mulder, I'm going to take you to your room now," she told him softly, bu t he tightened his grip on her arm. "Don't leave me this time Katherine," he whispered fiercely, and Scully f ought to find her voice again. He wasn't hurting her but even so, this w as slowly turning into a very dangerous delusion. "Mulder," she said firmly, "Mulder, it's me, Scully." She stared into his eyes and pressed further. "DANA Scully." "We were going to kiss," he whispered sullenly, distantly and she nodded. "Yes we were," she answered firmly, "But it was me, Dana Scully, you were going to kiss. It was me Mulder, NOT Katherine. Can you tell the diffe rence? Mulder? Mulder who is Katherine?" "Scully," he whispered, and she touched his arm relieved. He was coming back to her. A flare of something shot through her, and she fought for breath as the r oom began to spin. "uhhh...Mulder?" Her voice was shaky, queasy, and she felt him grab her shoulders in conce rn. Flashes of light played and danced behind her eyes, and she began to see visions of something pushing its way into her brain. <"Scully, I love you...I love you..."> "Scully?" Mulder's voice punctured through her visions and she clamped onto his arm s tightly, searching frantically for the eyes she knew so well, the face she sought comfort in, the hands that could protect her even if she didn't want them to. "Scully?" Her eyes focused on the bedside clock. 4:21 am. A shiver erupted through her. What was so signifigant about that? she told herself quickly, though her brain was s tarting to doubt her common sense. The queasiness slowly ebbing and subsiding, Scully finally managed to fin d his eyes, nodding briefly that she could hear him, that she wasn't goin g to faint and fall off the bed, and Mulder touched a trembling hand to h er cheek. "What---" "Fire," she whispered horrified. "Fire, everywhere...god, it was..." "Scully---" Without warning, fear suddenly overtook her and she felt the urge to get this over with and get to sleep, so that they could get the hell out of t his town as quickly as possible. "The phone, Mulder...Who was on the phone?" Their eyes met and stared into each other as Scully continued to take in large gulps of air, still reeling from the intensity of what she could on ly call a fairly strong hallucination. "You saw it Scully," he whispered back. "You saw what I saw...the fire.. 2E" "Damn it Mulder, nevermind that! Who was on the phone!" Mulder gulped and bit his lip nervously "They're real somehow...aren't they? The dreams I'm having? Something's going on here that's affecting our judgement and enhancing the way we re act to each other. The way we feel and---" "They're DREAMS Mulder, that's all! Not EVERYTHING in this life is a god damn X File! If you' re going to use them as a way to explain away what we almost---" "No Scully, God, that's not what I-----" "Then TELL ME!!" Scully practically exploded, shoving Mulder away roughly with the palm of her right hand. "Tell me what the hell is going on her e!!" "I don't know," he muttered back, apparently lost in thought, but Scully was not finished yet. She yanked him violently back into reality by the collar of his shirt. "Tell me who was on that phone Fox Mulder! Tell me what brought all of th is on or so help me god, I will deck you right here!" "You know Scully!" he retorted angrily, "Somehow you know! You saw it, a nd I think you know who it was!" "No I don---" "Yes you DO!" The frustrated partners stared hard at each other, both fighting for cont rol and neither finding any, gasping to retain breath from yelling. "It was you, ok?! It was you on the phone! You called to me for help and begged me not to let you die! You told me to save "her". Now, who "her " really is I have no idea, and I don't know how or where or why, and I d on't understand it, but as sure as I am that you are here with me now, I know that it was also you on that phone." Scully's mouth dropped open. "But Mulder," she sighed, "That's---" "Impossible? Really? No shit, Scully." Scully closed her aqua eyes to try and make sense of everything. A ratio nal answer was just not forthcoming. Her temples began to throb. She hated things that she couldn't explain. So why was it then, that she spent most of her life chasing after such occurances? she decided. When she spoke again, she sounded tired, patronizing, and Mulder picked u p on it right away. "You couldn't have heard me Mulder, it was probably just some---" "No! don't you even say it! I am NOT delusional Scully, so don't even say it. It was you. I know it was you, and it scared the hell out of me!" "Mulder, I wasn't going to say that you were---" "Crazy? Maybe not, but I know you were alluding to it." Eyes narrowing, Scully smacked the mattress again with her hand, pulling swiftly away from him, and then glared back in anger. "Jesus Christ Mulder!" She roared in frustration, pushing a stubborn cop per lock out of her eyes. "Can't you just drop that 'everyone thinks I'm nuts' act for just one fucking minute to realize that I'm your partner a nd I'm NOT against you?! I have NEVER, not once during that explanation o f yours, said that I thought you were crazy, but here you are, once again, making the assumption----" "Once again?! Excuse me? Oh no, Scully. Don't you even start with that! You always---" "*I* Always?!" "YES! You ALWAYS! You always look at me as if I need to be locked up, yo u talk down to me as if I-" "As if I what?? When, Mulder?! When?!" "WHEN?! What do you mean, WHEN, Scully?! All the time!" She scoffed at him. "Oh please." "You want fucking Instances Scully?!" "Yes I want fucking instances Mulder!" "Fine!" "Fine!" For a moment, the two agents stared each other down, facing off and clenc hing their fists, gritting their teeth as the argument grew larger and mo re heated. In the back of Scully's mind, a part of her subconscious registered that she and Mulder NEVER fought like this...never, and she could almost feel the air crackli ng around her. she wondered, and a wave of dizziness overtook h er again. she registered intensely. Mulder's presence was begging to ebb and shatter around her, as if he wer e no longer there, and fear welled itself up inside of her until it burst out and she began to claw for help. Her hands shook and swung to the ri ght, to the left, back again, and she gasped in fear. "Scully! Come back to me! Scully----" She couldn't hear him. A blanket of stars engulfed her, swallowing her, and she felt numb, frozen and yet hot all over, confused and terrified. "Oh god, Scully I'm sorry. Scully? Talk to me please. I didn't mean...pl ease..." When she finally found her voice it was far away, confused and helpless, hypnotized as if it were no longer her own, and she had to fight to contr ol it. "You promised me someday..." she whispered, and Mulder felt her forehead confused. She was delirious and burning up. "You're not making sense, Scully. Help me here. Tell me what's going on. " "Somewhere under the stars..." "I don't understand you, oh god pleaase...come back to me...come back to me..." His brain briefly passed over to another time that she'd lain helpless be neath him, suffering from a terrible virus that had nearly killed her, st ripping her from his life. he thought. "Promise me," she continued softly, as if addressing someone he couldn't see. "Someday, you and I... Somewhere under the stars..." "Dana, it's me! Mulder! Please..." He wrapped his arms tightly around her back and pressed her down to the s heets carefully. Her skin was pale and flushed, glazed over and sweaty, and she looked as if she were thousands of miles away. Her copper hair f ell dark and placidly onto the pillow as he tried to brush it away, clenc hing his hand over hers as if it were a lifeline, and he spoke softly, desperately shoving b ack his fear. "Dana, I need for you to come back now" he told her with forced calmness, "Dana...can you hear me?" Her breathing became more shallow and erratic, as if she were having a st roke or worse, and Mulder paled. "oh god, Scully please...I don't know what to do..." "Under the stars..." she thought horrified. Her eyes closed. Mulder's heart nearly stopped. "oh god, Scully!! Wake up!! Scully answer me!!" His eyes searched the room frantically for his cellular. "Scully I'm calling an ambulance, hang on..." XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX OH NO! not ANOTHER "to be continued"! Well, yeah I know. Another "almost ending". So is it interesting enough for ya? Slightly confusing? Well, don't worry...everything will be explained in time....if you want it to, that is...give me your feedback if you want to see it continue cuz, well 2E.. to be honest, I'm actually running short on time because if school now. (In other words, unless I get a HUGE amount of email for this, I do n't think I will be able to continue because I've got loads of homework. Yes---that hateful, HATEFUL stuff. And although I love you guys...well it's just hard to find the ammunition to keep going, you know? School and work's burned me out, so to speak.) So if you like it, tell me where you'd like to see it go. And if you do n't...well, tell me anyway just so I know and don't kill the story. Ok, that's all. :) Title: A Simple Kiss: Searching for Absolutions Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Rated: PG Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Category: S, R, A, (some H here and there) Disclaimer: See? There you go AGAIN, thinking I own em'. Well, I don't, so end of story. (Well, no not end of story, just end of disclaimer actually.) Summary: Mulder and Scully search for the answers surrounding their strange intensified behavior, while also still fighting their feelings. ? Authors note- If you have yet to read parts 1-5 then please do so at this time, yada yada, yada... And for those who have been following the story from the beginning, I hope that this part starts to clear up the confusion surrounding the strange goings on in part 5. Just keep on reading and all will be explained. :o) A Simple Kiss: Searching For Absolutions XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX The light was gone. Dizziness and fatigue rose up in Scully like waves of delirium crashing over a crowded beach, and she sprung bolt upright in bed. Her chest groaned and heaved with the effort as slowly the alarm clock came into focus, and she gulped in nervousness. Her fingers gripped the comforter. Sweat poured from her shoulders and neck as it bathed the ends of her hair. she thought erratically. Her eyes moved to focus upon the bedside clock. '4:35' the tiny red digits blinked ominously. Scully shook her head and tried to wear off the confusion. It was then that she realized something was different...but what was it? Her fingers traced the lines of her bare neck and upper chest. Her brain instinctively realized that her clothes had changed. Gone was the rumpled but sensible business suit. Gone were her black trouser socks. Slowly, Scully reached back up to her chest and shoulders, frantically searching to make sure she was wearing any clothing at all. The thought of herself nude, slightly afraid, and most likely alone, made her very uneasy. When her fingertips grazed the edge of a satin nightgown, causing the limp straps to fall sideways, she furrowed her brow in confusion. she thought. "Mulder?" her voice called, slitting through the silence like a dagger, but there was no answer. "Mulder??" she called again, this time more anxiously, and again, only the silence greeted her. Taking a moment to grip the sheets in panic, Scully desperately tried to quell the rising fear she felt taking place. she told herself silently. Scully shivered and moved to turn on the bedside lamp when she heard a key turning in the lock. Her hands falling away from the switch, she desperately fingered through the dark for her gun, knocking over various papers and materials until her hand closed over the holster. She swallowed and yanked the gun from its case, sending the plastic and faux leather object sailing across the room. Within seconds she had the safety undone and pointed her weapon towards the door. she thought. Moments later the door creaked, the hinges long in need of oil, and a tall figure appeared in the shadow of the door -frame. It was too dark to even try to figure out who it was, and Scully reacted immediately, opting for the more "paranoid" approach, as she sometimes called it. "FBI! Don't move! I have a gun!" she yelled in her best "take no prisoners" voice, and then heard a thud, as if something had smacked against the wall. Her arm straightened itself in defiance against the sound, and she kept her gun trained on the door. Immediately after, there was a smaller sound, perhaps glass breaking and shattering all over, and she took comfort in the idea that she had deftly surprised the intruder. "Christ! Shit! God damn it Scully!" At the sound of the familiar voice, Scully dropped her weapon to the bed in disgust, flipping on the bedside lamp. Her eyes protested mildly, adjusting slowly to the light, and she glared at Mulder as he bent to gather something broken on the floor. "Where the hell were you?" she demanded angrily. "And why the hell didn't you just KNOCK?!" Mulder shot her a withering look. "Was it really necessary to attempt to blow my head off?" he retorted, and Scully folded her arms. "You want a list in alphabetical order?" He rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that," she spat at him, and moved her gun back to the bedside table, shoving the off the covers in the process. "I want to know where it is you went after I fell asleep Mulder. Why you felt it necessary to just barge in unnanounced." Pulling herself slowly out of bed, she cautiously crept over to where Mulder knelt on the floor, carefully gathering shards of broken glass. A lock of copper crept over her ear and she shoved it away. Mulder pulled himself up abruptly. "Scully, what do you think you're doing?" he demanded forcefully, and she stopped in her tracks. "Well, I thought I'd help you get all that glass up off the floor before one of us gets injured," she replied dryly. Mulder let out a sigh and dropped his head in irritation. "Look Dana, I don't think you should be out of bed just yet," he offered, and she took a moment to regard him as if surely he must be kidding. They glanced at each other for a moment, silent, while Scully tried to figure out what the hell Mulder thought he was insinuating. Mulder, meanwhile, found himself unable to stop staring and gawking at his good looking partner in a very sexy nightgown. he cursed himself, and forced his gaze away from her, casting his attention back to the shards of glass littering the carpet. A heavy blush ran up Scully's cheeks and she realized that he was staring at her, moving his eyes up and down the course of her tiny frame, and she self consciously wrapped her arms about her chest. A part of her raced with excitement at the idea that he found her that attractive, while another part of her was still caught up in his words. Why wouldn't he want her out of bed? "Mulder," she sighed, her cheeks reddened and her ears pink, "What are you talking about?" Still, he refused to meet her gaze, afraid of what thoughts might take over his brain if he looked again, and replied as if talking to the floor. "You know," he told her dully, and Scully's eyebrow rose a notch. "No, I don't Mulder, and I'd like to be enlightened if you don't mind." Reflexively he looked up and regarded her, confused. "You don't remember." It was a statement, not a question, and Scully answered him with an annoyed air. "No." "Well, what's the last thing you remember?" Mulder questioned, trying to jog her memory, and Scully thought back. "Um, well let's see..." That "don't fuck with me" look was plastered to her face, that one that always meant trouble, and Mulder grimaced slightly. "You got a phone call then nearly fainted, we argued, you came up with yet another innane theory, and then I guess I fell asleep." Silence. "Very descriptive, thank you," Mulder replied dryly, and Scully shrugged. "So when did you leave?" she asked. Mulder's eyes widened. "You really don't remember the episode then?" Scully sighed wearily. "What 'episode' Mulder?" "After we argued. You kinda freaked out on me." Scully's eyebrow rose again, nearly reaching her hairline. Mulder thought, cringing. "* I * freaked out??" she replied witheringly. "ME?? Mulder, I seem to recall you nearly taking a nose dive into the Carpet. If anyone should be concerned here its not----" "Scully, you nearly had me calling 911 and administering CPR," he interrupted softly and she stopped in mid-sentence. He was deadly serious. "Mulder, what are you talking about," she demanded, running her hands up and down her arms as if she were cold. She sounded defensive and she knew it. "What happened before," he said lowly, softly. "I don't get why you don't remember it but... Well, you got dizzy and hot all of a sudden, and then your breathing was erratic. You started rambling about the stars and promises and then you closed your eyes." His gaze met up with hers. She swallowed as she regarded the full pain and fear behind his eyes. "I thought...I thought something had happened and then you... You just came back." Scully's features scrunched in concentration, trying to recall what he was relaying to her, but ended up unsuccessful. The last thing she could remember clearly was arguing with Mulder... and then waking up to darkness close to 15 minutes later. "What do you mean I just came back?" she asked confused, and knelt with him to gather the glass on the floor. "Came back from where?" He frowned. "I um, I dunno...It was...Well, you just...all of a sudden I heard you call my name and when I turned around, you were ok again. Your breathing, your fever, they were all normal again. One minute you were having this...episode and then the next..." he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I suggested you close your eyes for a bit so I could go get something." She pursed her lips and nodded, but still felt as if something was missing. And in essence, something was. Time had escaped her, eluded her once again. And Even though it was only 10 minutes this time, and not three months like before, the disturbing idea still registered that time had just disappeared. Gone in the blink of an eyelash. Vaguely, she let her mind drift back to a time when she had told Mulder that time didn't just disappear, that it was a universal invariant, but now she was starting to distrust that belief. She was starting to distrust herself as well. The idea scared her almost as much as the missing 10 minutes. "Um, Mulder?" she began apprehensively, "Where did you go while I was----" "When did you put that on Scully?" Scully stared at her partner confused. "What?" "Your nightgown. I didn't put that on you. Did you do it after I left?" She opened her mouth to answer, and then realized that she had none to give him. Her head tilted to the side in self -doubt and confusion. "I uh, I don't remember um...maybe..." her voice trailed off as Mulder reached a trembling index finger to her cheek. She sucked in a breath and closed her eyes as he traced the line of her jaw tenderly. "It's ok," he whispered gently. "Don't beat yourself up over it Scully. I think I may have figured out what's been going on here. Maybe it'll jog your memory." "You know why I can't remember?" she asked hopefully, and Mulder trailed his fingers backwards to the edge of her hairline. "Well, no, not exactly," he ammended, "but I do think I may have something that could shed some light on all this." His fingers reluctantly lifted from her porcelain fair skin and Scully opened her eyes. "What do you mean?" she quieried lightly. He bit his lip. "Mulder, where were you while I was asleep?" His eyes stayed with her for a moment before falling to the broken object on the floor. Scully bit her lip and followed the path of his gaze, tracing it to the carpet. The object Mulder had brought with him was a newspaper article encased in a delicate glass frame. The glass had apparently been broken when Scully had scared her partner, upon his unannounced entry to her room, and shards of glass littered the area around the black backboard. The yellowed, worn edges of the paper suggested that perhaps it was quite old. A glance at the date at the top confirmed her suspicions. 'August 9, 1978' it read. An even closer look to spy the headline caused her breath to lurch into her throat. "Mulder, what is this? Where did you get it?" she breathed. He shrugged half heartedly. "Me and my photographic memory," he half-joked, but Scully didn't crack a smile. His half grin faded. "Well, I remembered seeing some article about the FBI and a fire by the front desk when we first checked in. I just never really looked at it at the time. Our shared hallucinations of fire gave me the idea that I should go back and check it out." "Mulder? Do you realize that this headline---" "Yeah. I know." Her face contorted in disbelief as she re-read the headline, and then re-read it again. "Mulder," she breathed horrified, "This says that...but how can it---" "Easy Scully," Mulder half joked, and then became serious once again. "Read the rest of it." Scully glanced up at him briefly and nodded, sucking in a breath, and gently began lifting the clipping from its frame. Clearing her throat, she bent to read the article out loud. "A local motel was destroyed last night, in what Guinisville townspeople are calling the most horrific fire to date. The fire, which completely leveled the long standing family owned motel, "The Purple Moon Motor Court", is now being labeled as "deliberate" by police, and "cleverly done" by the fire dept. Roger Carson, owner and desk manager, claims that he can think of no one with any reason to set a fire, and is reported devastated by a blaze that began around 5:30 am; when he first believes to have smelled smoke." Scully paused for a moment. "Mulder I don't see why this----" "Just keep going," he insisted, and Scully took a deep breath, trying to collect the shards of her sanity. "Right," she muttered, and continued. "I got nervous when I started smelling smoke," said Carson. " At first I thought Edina had burned something in the kitchen again, but when I walked outside, I saw the very right side of the building---down by the far end, up in the most heated looking fire I ever saw." Scully shot a withering look at Mulder. "Trust me," he insisted. She sighed. "Other witnesses passing by the scene earlier claim that a man, fitting the description of visiting FBI investigator William Harrison, was seen fleeing from the motel around 4:20 am, approximately 1 hour before fire engulfed it." Scully paused again to look at Mulder. Where was he going with this? A slight nod of his head told her he was waiting for her to continue, and that when she was done, he would tell her, and so she wearily decided to read to the end. Keeping her eyes upon him for another few seconds, she slowly ripped her gaze away to read the rest. "Carson admitted to having witnessed the agent a few times that evening, first disappearing and then re-appearing at the motel, before being questioned by local police. 'I saw him leave his lady partner's room and drive off like the dickens, so fast and angry as hell,' Carson told investigators. 'But then he came back again just as I came outside. I thought he would pass out from fright, but he dang gone charged into the building and came out with that lady partner of his.' " Scully realized. "The desk clerk's wife, Edina Carson, who had been preparing breakfast at the time of the arson, claims to have run out when she smelt smoke and heard her husbands cries for help. She recalled hearing the FBI agent yelling for help as well, and then called the police immediately, exiting the building and seeking a safe distance." Mulder began to twiddle his fingers nervously and Scully made note of it. "The female agent, Katherine Simmons, was rescued from the blaze by her then hysterical partner, but unfortunately was pronounced dead at Guinisville hospital at 6:30 this morning. Cause of death was declared as severe third degree buns and oxygen loss due to smoke inhalation. Her partner, agent Harrison, has been the only suspect thus far. Taken into questioning not long after his partner was pronounced dead, he was also found dead an hour later, of an apparent self afflicted gun-shot wound to the head." "Police have labeled the situation "unsolved", and the federal bureau of investigation plans to take official control of the situation shortly . The Carson family, meanwhile, is devastated, although they plan to re-build their lost motel." Scully dropped the article to the floor then, feeling cold shivers racing along her spine, and she began to rise, nearly tripping over her own feet. Her head began to throb dizzily and she felt sick. If she wasn't the more rational of the two, she knew she'd have to admit that there was the possibility of a correlation between what had happened then and what was going on now, but the practical part of her refused to believe it. she told herself unconvincingly. Her legs wobbled and she felt hot. "Easy," Mulder gasped out, and he rose quickly to catch Scully by her right bicep; to prevent her from falling into the broken glass. He helped her to the bed and sat her down gently, watching her breathe deeply to regain her equilibrium. "Ok, Scully, now I know this may seem nuts but---" "You think we've somehow become inexplicably linked in tangent with those two dead agents" she finished for him dully, and he pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I know it sounds impossible but---" "It IS impossible Mulder." "Alright, well then how do you explain tonight?" Her head fell to the side in an almost irritated fashion, and she started to speak. "What do you mean, 'how do I explain tonight'?" She sounded irritated and not in the mood, but he still needed to make her see the whole picture. "I just... Scully, I have a feeling that we're being manipulated here." She regarded him critically and began to fidget with her fingers, twisting and turning them around a patch of silk nightgown. "I don't understand Mulder, what exactly are you suggesting?" He sighed. He knew there was little chance that she would see this his way but he also knew that he had to try. "I think that everything that's happened tonight, the intensity of our arguments, your use of...well, rather colorful language that I've never heard you use before, my zoning out, our hallucinations and also our increased...well, affectionate feelings towards each other have somehow been heightened and intensified." Scully raised an eyebrow. "Intensified..." He nodded. Her heart sank. "By whom?" she questioned. "Actually, I think the operative phrase should be, 'by what'," he answered, and Scully backed away from him slowly. "No," she moaned irritated. "Oh no you don't Mulder. You are NOT going to blame the events of tonight on A... A..." "A Ghost, Scully?" She narrowed her eyes. "There are NO such things as ghosts Mulder." He advanced closer and turned on his best "spooky voice." The one he'd used on her all those years ago, when he had first asked if she believed in the existence if extra terrestrials. "So you don't believe in ghosts then," he drawled. "No," she replied hotly "I don't." He smiled. "Oh really now?" "Yes, really Mulder." He scoffed. "So what about what happened to you before?" he demanded. "Or did I only imagine that you almost zonked out on me completely." "I don't know" she shot back annoyed, "I can't remember any of it so how can I come to any sort of rational conclusion?" He moved even closer then, and Scully found her adrenaline surging as she crept further away, her body being slowly backed up against the headboard. He was trapping her, and she didn't know what to make of it. "Fine then," he muttered, his body creeping closer still, "Explain to me why you can't remember." She narrowed her eyes and dug her fingers into the mattress. "Lack of sleep, heightened emotions, perhaps illness. I'll see a doctor when I get home, ok?" He raised a speculative eyebrow in her direction. She didn't sound so sure of herself anymore. "And my what about my dreams Scully ? My hallucinations about fire? Yours? Explain THAT." His knees were touching hers and her pulse began to pound. "You could have seen the article in the lobby and applied it to yourself subconsciously. Transference of events from one person of another to form a heightened psychosis." She was rambling now. "Almost like an offhand form of Folie A Deux. It does happen Mulder. I will admit that there are a few similarities between ourselves and those two agents but..." Mulder let his head drop to the sheets near Scully's knees defeatedly. How was it that Scully managed to shoot down every theory he had and twist it to suit her purposes. He lifted his face and looked into his partner's eyes. There was definite fear there and he knew it. "You don't really believe that," he told her softly and she shook her head. "I have to," she whispered back, and he reached a hand to touch the back of her neck gently. He curled and toyed with the tiny hairs there and he drew her forehead close to touch his. "Why Dana?" he asked and she sighed. Her hand came to rest upon his shoulder. "Because I think you're just looking for excuses," she replied, and he pulled away just slightly enough for their eyes to connect. "For what?" he asked. "The way you feel. The way I feel. The dying lines of communication between us." He threaded a finger around a gentle lock of warm auburn and let his eyes wander to hers. "You think I'm somehow creating a hallucination, a diversion for myself because I want a scapegoat for the things we said and did tonight?" She frowned. "I don't know Mulder," she admitted, and he looked hurt. "You think I would do that to you?" he gasped, sadness creeping into his voice, and Scully bit her lip. "Maybe not consciously," she offered, as if to try and mend his feelings, but Mulder looked away sadly, continuing the slow motion of his fingers at the nape of her neck. he thought desperately. Oh how he wanted to say it so badly... But those were not the words that escaped his mouth. "But you saw it too Scully. I know you did. I saw you. It wasn't just me." He pierced her gaze with his own. You know there's something going on here. Something not right..." Unable to continue their shared gaze, her eyes looked away and her head averted itself so she wouldn't have to make eye contact. His fingers continued to tickle the tiny hairs at the base of her neck and her breath shuddered in her throat. "Look Scully," he whispered, using an index finger to gently raise her chin. "I would never use the X files as a scapegoat. This isn't a diversion to get out of needing you." He felt her gently trying to pull away, probably trying to find a way to close off from him, but stubbornly, he refused to let her go. "Mulder---"she started gently, but he interrupted. "No, please... Please listen to me Scully." His fingers crept lightly up to her cheeks, brushing over the liquid smoothness of her skin, and she closed her eyes against the thudding race of her heart. She wanted more of him, more of his touch, but then at the same time, she knew that it would probably just be detrimental to both of them if he continued. Inside, her brain screamed. Because need and love were two very different things, and they often went hand in hand. And although she knew that here was nothing she could do to stop loving him, maybe she should just try to stop needing him. her brain registered. His voice punctured through her thoughts and she took a deep breath. "I need to get to the bottom of this for the both of us," he explained softly. "I need to Scully, if only for the fact that it ruined something that shouldn't ever have been influenced or interfered with the way that it was." She shook her head in sadness, but Mulder was not phased by it. He moved in closer and their foreheads touched together again like a mending of souls. "Mulder---" "Scully, something ruined a moment that should have special and caring. Instead it was tense and angry, so much so that you almost felt the need to punch me in the head, so much so that I said some hateful things, and I can't stand that we were manipulated like that... And I DO believe we were manipulated. How or why I don't know, but something took our moment Scully. Something stole that from us, and I want to find out what it was." He paused to touch his nose to hers, so like the Eskimo kisses he used to give girls in grade school, and felt her breath passing over his lips. His pulse surged and his breathing caught. The heat between them seemed to grow more and more intense with each passing second, and for the second time tonight, he heard Scully whimper. "I want that moment back," his voice whispered feveredly into her lips, and she nodded slightly against the soft cushion of his forehead against hers. "I don't want to be left wondering what would have been, Dana. I wouldn't want to be thinking that our minds were being toyed with during a moment when I'd rather be focused on you." Scully swallowed heavily. "You think we're just being toyed with then," she breathed disappointed, and Mulder's fingers familiarly fell back into her strawberry colored locks. "To an extent," he replied gently, "But I don't understand the exact nature of it. The specifics. I don't we'll think really know for sure until 5:30, when the original fire..." Scully moved to pull away with a sigh, and Mulder's hand around the back of her neck tightened nervously. "Hey," he chided softly, "What's wrong? What is it?" Her eyes averted. "You think we're being haunted," she said deflated and he looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well I can't be positive Scully, but yeah. I guess I do." "That's crazy," she whispered and he nodded with a tiny smile. "I know," he replied half-grinning, and tried to lighten the mood. "Who would've thought that us sharing an intimate moment would end up being an X File?" Scully blushed and reached a hand out to his, closing it firmly over the fingers that had been playing at the hair on the back of her head. Trying to memorize the sensation, she closed her eyes briefly. "I should've known better," she sighed, and Mulder frowned. "What are you talking about?" She gave him a tight smile and pulled his hand from around her neck, placing it gently in his lap. Mulder tilted his head and stared down at her hand, confused. "I should've known that if this ever happened, that somehow it would never be real. That you didn't really----" "Didn't really what?" She sighed almost inaudibly then, and Mulder nearly gaped when he spied the crystaline tear that made its way down her cheek. "Didn't really want this," she finished, and then brushed away the tear as if she was angry at herself for showing such a self-hated emotion. She bit her lip in frustration and Mulder interlaced his fingers through hers. "Scully, you know that's not----" "God," she hiccuped angrily, interrupting him. "I never act like this. I never get this emotional. I never..." Her voice trailed off slowly and her eyes connected with his. Understanding seemed to flow from him into her, and suddenly Scully started to second guess her own beliefs. she thought insanely, and almost laughed at herself for allowing the idea to take root. A deep breath and another hiccup later, Scully inexplicably found herself slowly laying her head to rest against Mulder's chest exhaustively. She knew the way it would affect her but she didn't care. Not anymore. His arms came up protectively to wrap around her, one caressing her back, the other buried somewhere in her hair, and she closed her eyes feeling suddenly helpless. It was a feeling she loathed. "So then what can we do?" she asked tiredly. "Wait," he replied, firmly but still sounding unsure of himself. "Wait until 5:30 I guess. When all of this ended with the fire...Maybe it'll give us some answers...I'm hoping..." Silence cut into them and he felt Scully nod against his chest. He in turn ran his hands along the smooth silk of the nightgown she couldn't remember putting on. It felt cool and soft above the ivory skin beneath it. "Did you mean what you said Mulder?" Her voice emanated from beneath his embrace. "Mean what?" he asked confused, and felt slender arms begin to wrap apprehensively around him. Scully was nervous. That idea alone made Mulder uneasy. Dana Scully NEVER got nervous. At least, not unless it was a dire emergency. "When you said you wanted the moment back." Mulder continued to run his fingers up and down the expanse of her back, one hand lingering in the smoothness of her hair, and out of habit, he began to breathe in her shampoo again. "You think I lied about that?" he questioned, and she broke from his fingers to look up at him. "Mulder, I never said----" "I know you didn't Scully... But were you thinking it?" She frowned. "I..." Her voice trailed off. "I'd like to think you weren't,"she finished. "You'd LIKE to think I wasn't?" His voice came out hurt and defensive. "Well," she began, "What am I supposed to think when you tell me that everything that happened tonight may or may not have been a giant lie?" "I never said that Scully." "I know, but did you think it?" She was faintly surprised when his answer was immediate. "No Scully. I don't think it was all a lie." "Well what then?" she asked exasperated. Mulder groaned in defeat and exhaustion. "I don't know, ok?" he replied, and slowly moved his hands to cup her shoulderblades. His fingers spread slowly apart, and he ran them up and down the expanse of her arms until he could feel the goosebumps underneath his palms. It was more out of nervousness than anything else. "I don't have all the answers and I just don't know Scully." "Then how do I know that any of what you tell me is real?" she demanded and he sighed irritated. "I don't KNOW!" he nearly shouted, and she looked into his eyes, clearly hurt and taken aback. He hadn't meant to yell at her like that, but now he felt the urge to continue. "I don't know anymore Scully. I don't know anything anymore ok?" His eyes focused on the shape of her arms, and desperately he searched for the words. "It's...it's as if... just when I think something is concrete, just when I think I've got it, it always slips through my fingers. Everything does. Everything Scully. Life just keeps slipping through my fingers. YOU just keep slipping through my fingers..." The words were out before he could stop them, and her lips parted slightly in surprise as he finished. She stared at him as if she were discovering something she couldn't quite put her finger on. "I haven't slipped through your fingers," she whispered in a tiny voice, and as if to solidify the idea, touched a warm palm to his cheek. He closed his eyes against the sensation and moved his head in a single slighted motion; not enough to look away, but just enough to touch his lips to the inside crease of her palm. "Can you feel that?" she breathed softly, the blood thundering in her ears, and he smiled, though his eyes remained closed. "Yes..." She moved the hand to slowly caress his cheek, his jaw, and then ran it back through his hair tenderly. "And that?" "Yes..." She smiled faintly. "I'm here Mulder," she assured gently. "And I'm not going anywhere." Comfortable silence ensued, and Scully quietly took the time to catalog the tender moment in the back of her brain. "But would you?" she heard him ask softly, and watched his eyes flutter open to gauge her response. "No," she replied. "Even if I did something crazy?" She smiled at the question. He was playing with her now. "You're always doing something crazy," she joked softly, and she let her hand fall gently to rest at the base of his neck. "Even if I said something crazy?" he prodded, and she let out a breathy chuckle. "Been there done that---" "Bought the t-shirt," he finished for her, and she let out another laugh before nodding. "Yeah, something like that," she agreed jokingly. "But what if it was crazier than anything I'd ever said before Scully? What if it made you uncomfortable?" She frowned at his question, unsure of what he was trying to get at, and bit the inside of her cheek in nervousness. His tone had suddenly become serious again and she didn't know what to make of it. "What are you getting at Mulder?" Her tone was nervous, almost afraid, and then she heard him sigh as if unsure of how to word his statement. "If I said something Scully...Something uh..." "Mulder?" He touched fingerstips gently to her hairline again, watching her, touching her skin, as if he were studying her in an attempt to find the right words. "Something that wasn't... expected or..." Scully closed her eyes defeatedly. For some reason, it always seemed as if sometimes Mulder spoke in a separate language all his own. As if she had to convert "Mulder-speak" to English. "Mulder I don't understand," she sighed exhausted. "What are you trying to tell me? Just say it." "What if I told you..." He paused then, and she leaned her head back into his chest tiredly, allowing her arm to remain lax around his neck. Her eyes kept themselves closed out of sheer exhaustion. "hmmm?" she uttered half heartedly. She was too tired to play this game. Too confused. Now was just not the time. he wondered, and knew there was no answer. Their lives were slowly turning into one giant X file and there was nothing he could do about it. Come to think of it, there was nothing she could do either. His heart began to beat louder as he felt Scully settling more comfortably into his chest. How ironic was it that he had ghosts and smoking men, aliens and the government, and god only knew what else chasing after him, and yet here he was, more afraid of this moment with Scully than any other kind of danger or supernatural phantasm. he thought, and then brushed the idea away. He was going to be taking a huge risk, setting himself up for the ultimate fall, but he couldn't help himself. It needed to be said and he needed to say it. "What if I told you I loved you Scully?" he blurted out suddenly, knowing full well the implications it held. He almost jumped as Scully snapped her head up abruptly, almost painfully, and her eyes fluttered open as she gazed wide -eyed at her partner. He looked incredibly nervous and almost downright afraid. The arm she'd been using as leverage against his stomach flew to his shoulder to help right herself. "Wha....What did you say?" she breathed in disbelief and his voice came soft, tiny and nervous. "If I said I loved you," he repeated questioningly. "Would you leave? Would you walk away?" Scully's mouth dropped open, her breathing now quickened, and her arms began to tremble. Her lips felt dry and strange, her stomach beginning to do sommersaults and flips, and slowly her eyes connected with her partners. The arm she had wrapped around his neck tightened protectively, and soon the hand resting on his well-muscled shoulder rose up to join its twin. His head tilted, gently and slowly, as if moving to angle in closer, and Scully was sure that her heart had almost stopped. That her brain had just fizzled out. That Her life had just changed. Because ghost or no ghost. Haunting or not. Something had just very definetly happened between them. And thus, their proverbial line was shattered... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Yeah I know, I'm still getting there. You're just going to have to wait. :o) Oh, and when I said I had school---I meant college. Not high school or middle school or anything like that, just so that you know. (There was some confusion) But right now there's a break in the action, so to speak, so I might be able to get the next parts out faster. Hopefully you're all still reading and enjoying and keep telling me what you think. I know some of you found pt 5 confusing, and I'll try to clear up the confusion in the next few parts. K? thanx! Title: A Simple Kiss: Fears of Endearment Author: Jaime Lyn Email: Leiaj@bellsouth.net Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Categories: S, R, A, H and some X thrown in Rated: Well, this one's rated "R" for bad language Disclaimer: Yep, I'm up to my old tricks, playing around with Mulder and Scully again. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on whether or not you liked the story) Mulder and Scully Don't belong to me. They belong to Chris Carter, FOX, 1013, Gillian Anderson, David Duchovny, and all those people. Don't sue. I have nothing to give. Summary: Mulder finally says "I love you", but unfortunately, the situation is not simple, and the response he gets is unexpected. ~x~ Author's Note: Well, this chapter returns us to "Scully first person" again, and I thought I should do it that way because ultimately, this chapter is about Scully's reaction to Mulder's "I love you" in chapter 6. Also, this particular one uses a little more foul language than the others, and also is more angsty. Basically, I had just read too many way off-kilter, fluffy "I Love you -hop-into-my-arms" type stories, and I felt that they were out of character. I didn't feel that they accurately described (not that I'm putting any of these stories down because they are be fun, and I DO read them) the way Mulder or Scully would react if they discovered the true nature of the other's feelings. This is just one way I think Scully might react. The events of it also lead directly into part 8, so it IS relevent to the story as a whole. Well ok, enough rambling. If you haven't read parts 1-6, please do it now. (You may be confused if you don't) ~x~ For Jen (My best friend and favorite Phile) and for everyone who's emailed me their feedback. I can't say thank you enough. A Simple Kiss: Fears of Endearment By Jaime Lyn XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX You know, Sometimes I think I'm going crazy. Losing my mind. Falling sideways off my rocker. I mean, God knows I've experienced enough oddities and lived through enough harrowing situations to drive a sane person to the nut house. So why is it I'm not there yet? Am I still in the process of going nuts? Is there some sort of hierarchy involved? Is there some sort of degree a person has to reach before they're locked up for good? I'm thinking there must be. Because even though I may not have been issued a straight jacket yet, I'm thinking that I probably will be soon. They give those things to crazy ladies who start hearing voices, don't they? Well at any rate, if they do, then I certainly qualify for it. After all, sane people just don't hear their partners say "I love you", when they know that there's absolutely NO possible way that their partners would ever say such things. Ever. See? I'm nuts, I'm telling you. And you know what else? Just the simple notion of it; the smallest inkling that I could be seriously losing my mind is like a warning bell. A symbol that I might end up as nuts as... Well, as nuts as Mulder... Well no, that's not really what I meant. He's not all THAT nuts per-say... It's just that... Well... I just don't want this to be the first step. I don't want this to be the beginning of my descent into the voids of non-reality. I don't feel like looking for explanations of why I'm going crazy in the sky. I don't want to spend the rest of my life staring up at the stars and believing in UFOs and anything else that can't be explained, just because I can't explain myself. Oh my. Is that really the way I see him? Do I really think of him that way? Is that really how low my opinion of him is? The wheels of my brain begin to turn. No. I don't even know why I'd think such an awful thing. So alright. I take that back. He's not nuts, he's just different. Very different. And it's not him who's hallucinating here anyhow. I'm the nut job. I'm the one who's hearing things. Hmmm... I wonder, has Mulder ever heard things? And if he has, would this insanity be a learned behavior? Something I've picked up from him; like a bad habit? Or maybe Mulder IS the bad habit. Damn it, there I go again, blaming Mulder. Stop it Dana. This is MY delusion, and mine alone. Because I know Mulder. I know him, I do, and he would never say "I love you." He wouldn't...would he? Does he? Oh god... Maybe I should try something different. Maybe it would help if I could try to step back from myself and pretend that I don't hear him. That this isn't happening and I'm not really here. If I could just chant it, over and over, like a silent mantra... I am not really Dana Scully. My partner is not really Fox Mulder. I do not really work on the X Files. Mulder did not just say that he loves me. My life is perfectly normal. It's not working. I think I was right the first time. I AM crazy... "Wha...What did you say?" I'm thinking that maybe if I repeat a nonsensical response several times, then perhaps he'll ultimately forget what the question was. Of course, when have I ever been that lucky? "If I said I loved you," he repeats nervously, biting his lower lip. "Would you leave? Would you walk away?" God, what a question. How the hell am I supposed to answer? I mean, I've already told him that I would never leave him. I've already made a solemn oath to never go anywhere, to never walk away from our partnership, and that was even after Mulder had just told me that he thought our room was being haunted by a couple of dead FBI agents. He knew I wouldn't believe him, or at least that I wouldn't want to, but he told me anyway. He always tells me anyway. Because he trusts me, right? Not because he... loves me, or anything... He just... he can't possibly love me... Oh my god, he loves me?? Did this just come out of thin air or am I losing it completely? "Mulder..." I stop at his name and find that I don't know what to say after that. I mean, what the hell does he expect me to say? 'Oh Mulder, oh my hero! Please just take me, right here, right now!' and then as I declare my undying devotion to him, leap doe-eyed into his arms? "Um, Scully?" Not going to happen. "Come here Scully..." He inches slowly towards me and I am utterly motionless. Stunned, to say the least... The VERY least. God, what does he think? That he can just say something like that, and then all the past will be erased? That I'll just forget about all the selfish, inconsiderate things he's said and done for seven years? That I'll just succumb to him and let it all go, all of my anger and irritation at him, all because of a few little endearing words? Does he really think he can solve it all that way? Or does he just think that I'll go along with this newest little theory of his about ghosts and weird behavior, if he can just make me moan with pleasure first? Well, goddamn him. Goddamn him for saying that to me. Goddamn him for putting me in this position. For using the word 'love' to play with my emotions. For taking such a powerful feeling and dangling it right in front of me, above and out of reach, for saying it clear out of the blue, so suddenly, after years of his acting indifferently towards me as not only a woman, but also a person. And sometimes, ignoring me as his partner too. Years of ditching, years of acting like I'm nothing more than an unwanted appendage, one that is only useful occasionally, for paperwork and undesirable scientific jumble, and now all of a sudden he LOVES me? All of a sudden he loves me?? What the hell?? And you know, the most frustrating part about it is that even though I want to shake the life out of him... To kill him... I know I can't help loving him back. Because I just... I love him. Completely. More deeply than anything I have ever felt in my life. I always have. I just don't know why. But right now it is not 'love' that I'm feeling for him. As a matter of fact, I am irritated and angry at him for having started this. For having said ANYHTING to me in the first place. For insisting on staying in my room. Or actually, even more-so, for him having me dragged to this motel in the first place. For him having come across this stupid case. For him pressing issues and not backing down when I had asked. And especially, for him throwing off my goddamned neat and orderly balance of things. That's all he ever does. Throw off my balance, making me tired... And right now I'm VERY tired. I need to sleep. I need to close my eyes. But I can't. He's here and he won't let me. I DON'T need him telling me that he loves me at 4:45 in the morning. I DO need a sledgehammer. A big one. His hands are at the back of my neck, his lips easing towards mine, and it's apparent that his brain has obviously taken in my silence as the go ahead; My inability to pull away as quiet consent. And as much as I want to feel that sensation, to have his mouth on mine, to have him wrap me inside of him and keep me safe, what I NEED to know, is why the hell he all of a sudden decided to bare his soul to me. I want to know where the fuck the epiphany that he loves me came from. Was it his intent to wait until now, when all my defenses were down, and then spring this on me? Did he think I would be more likely to get into bed with him then? Did he think that it would make it any easier for him to "slide into home plate?" Well, I need to know. I need to know NOW, and I need stop him. "Mulder, stop," I murmur into him mouth, and to my surprise, he does exactly as I say. Batter up... "We can't do this," I try to impart to him softly. "We can't just... kiss and make it all better." He looks at me petulantly. "Why not?" I sigh. "Mulder---" Unfortunately, I'm finding it hard to think straight with his face so close to mine, that I can't tell whether I'm still breathing, or whether he's doing it for me. The windup and the pitch... "But I WANT to kiss and make it all better Scully..." Mulder has literally stopped his forward motion an aching millimeter from my face. "Please let me..." Base hit... His fingers trace a slow line from my jaw to my neck. It's insanely arousing and not helping my case at all. Ground rule double... I suck in a breath, determined to stand my ground, but his nose is grazing mine; our lips are still a fingers-width apart. It's melting my reserve. This is serious. He wants me... "Please Scully..." He's rounding the bases... "No, we...can't...Mulder...ahh..." God, his hands. They're like lethal weapons capable of rendering me stupid. Intimacy with Mulder is literally making me stupid. It's yet another reason why we shouldn't be doing this. If his touch can do this to me, than what would... Oh christ, I don't even want to consider it... Mulder smiles. "Maybe I should have worded that differently," he whispers sensuously, and I am ashamed to find myself completely paralyzed. "What if I said Mother May I?" he jokes, and my teeth clench. My fists tighten. He thinks this is all a game. He thinks he can play with me like this... No. "Um, Simon says?" Oh that's IT. Base runner shot down. Game over. "You think this is a game?!" I suddenly blurt out angrily, and he moves backwards, clearly flustered. "What?! I---No! Of course not! I was just trying to----" "Trying to what?! WHAT?!" I don't even know why I'm angry anymore, I just am, and I want to yell at him... for a very long, extended period of time. His mouth drops open in protest. "I just asked you...I thought maybe...I shouldn't have...oh damn it!" My eyes begin to narrow and I don't know why I'm so angry with him anymore. I don't know why a simple phrase is pushing me over the edge like this. One would think that after all these years, after all the time I'd agonized over wanting him so badly, that I'd be HAPPY to hear him say what he did. But I'm not. I'm not relieved at all. I'm not happy, or even a little ecstatic. I'm angry. And a little afraid. What if he's just using this situation because he wants a female, needs companionship, and I'm the only one available? Settling for Scully because there's no cute, volumptuous, wonderful non 'Scully', non partner-like woman anywhere in sight, and that just leaves me? Because I'm the left over. I'm here for the taking. What if he only said he loves me as a line? Well I can't let him hurt me like that. I can't. My feelings run too deeply for him to allow for that. Even though I know he probably wouldn't... I know he'd never use me... I can't help but think... that the possibility of it is still there... And so the 'Scully' defenses go up. My mouth opens and I begin to blurt out words that I know will hurt him. I don't know why I'm saying them but I am. "You selfish, SELF CENTERED..." Words are failing me and so I decide to further illustrate my point by shoving him backwards off the bed. He falls with a loud, ungraceful THUD. "Ow!! God damn it Scully, that hurt! Why did you-" "BASTARD!!" I suddenly finish, interrupting him in mid-complaint. He starts to open his mouth to defend himself, but I'm way too ahead of him now, careening way too far down my angry, frustrated roller-coaster to let him speak yet. "You think you can just manipulate me by turning this into an issue of trust?! An issue of 'will she or won't she?' How can you just stand there and all of a sudden say 'I love you', like it's this sudden revelation, and then tell me that my loyalty to you all depends on the way I answer?! What do you think Mulder?! That I'll just sweep you into my arms, after years of your blatant indifference to me not only as a person, but also as a woman, and then beg for you to take me? Do you honestly think that I'll just be so honored that you've now decided to conveniently want me, that I'll just take you into my arms and fuck you like there's no tomorrow?!" The shock and utter surprise at my outburst is written all over Mulder's face. He is staring at me as if he doesn't even recognize me. As if I'm not really 'Scully', but instead some horror that has taken her shape. But then again, knowing Mulder, he's probably already decided that I'm possessed... or maybe worse. I don't know. I can't tell. All I know is that the look on his features tells me that he thinks I've finally gone off the deep end. Lost it. Who knows? Maybe I really have this time. I stare back at him, panting in anger. See, I told you, I'm not sane anymore. I'm just not. "What the HELL are you talking about Scully?!" he demands, and I inch over to the side of the bed so that he can see just exactly how angry I am. I need to make him see. To make him realize that it's just NOT that easy. That I'M not that easy. We're back to square one all over again. "I'm talking about years of my following you Mulder. Years of...of chasing after you and... and going along with you after every goddamn wild goose chase, and then afterwards, not even getting so much as a thank you, or a 'Hey, I really care about you Scully, let me show you how much you mean to me.' I'm talking about the fact that after all these years, after years of absolutely nothing, years of taking me for granted, that you can just sit here and out of nowhere just tell me that you..." I pause for a moment. No. I won't say it. I won't repeat what he said. I won't. "That you 'care' so deeply about me, that you want me so badly, and then expect me to just take that at face value. To accept it so all of a sudden, so out of the blue----" "Scully, that's not---" "Yes it IS!!!" Oh god. It's happening again. Why is it happening again? We're arguing. For what has to be the 50th time tonight, we're yelling at each other, and I don't think we've argued this much in years. Of course, I'm the one doing most of the screaming, but Mulder IS contributing somewhat. Kind of. Well, actually he sounds a bit afraid of me. Good. He should. "I can't believe you think that what we've shared is nothing Scully," he sighs. "I can't believe that you don't trust me enough to know..." Oh christ!! Not THAT again! He knows how much I value our partnership, our trust. Damn it! How many fucking times do I have to tell him... "You KNOW that's not what I meant! You know! Don't even try to make it seem like I'm doing this because I don't trust you---or our partnership." God, he can be so THICK sometimes. "This has nothing to do with 7 years of our trust, or 7 years of friendship and caring Mulder. This is about you using that trust against me. And using it to do what? Cop a feel?" He looks mortified, as if I've just dealt out the final blow, and I think I'm going too far. Deep down, I know he wasn't trying to use me, I know that he cares, but now there is this rush of anger, this unfounded need to hurt him running through me and I don't know how to stop it. God, just Shut up already Dana! I can't. My mouth is running rampant now. Oh jesus, what's wrong with me?! "What did you plan to do the morning after Mulder?" I question accusingly. "Reassure me that it was really a ghost who made you say all these things and not you? That yeah, the sex was great, but 'please Scully, can we just forget it ever happened?'" His fingers start to grip the comforter looking for control. "Jesus Scully, how can you believe----" "Oh come on now Mulder," I chide sarcastically, bitterly, and I can feel the anger like bile, rising up in my throat. "Just name your scapegoat. Give me another excuse why I should fuck you. It'll be fun." Uh oh. Apparently, that was the last straw. I don't think I've ever seen Mulder's face so angry and hostile. Roughly, he reaches a well toned arm to yank my bare one off the bed, pulling my body down with it. I gasp in shock and protest, but my limbs refuse to help me as I tumble off the bed into a heap at his knees. I think Mulder's just lost it. His legs swing around to straighten my twisted body, straddle it, and he then sits atop my abdomen carefully, so as not to crush me, but instead, pin me to the floor. "Get the FUCK off of me Mulder!" I yell horrified, trying to bring up my elbow into his face defensively, but he is quicker. He growls in response and deflects my fists, grabbing them and pinning them onto the floor over my head. I'd nearly forgotten just how strong Mulder was. It's starting to piss me off. And I want him off of me. NOW! "God DAMN IT MULDER! What do you think you're DOING?!" His breathing is short and erratic and comes in tiny puffs onto my cheeks. Something like a lost memory flashes through my brain. <<< "Don't LIE to me Kathy!" "I'm not, God damn it, LEAVE ME ALONE! Get OFF!!" "NO!">>> But it is gone as soon as it came. The idea that it was even there is disturbing enough. Oh god, what if Mulder was right? What if by some incredible breach of physics, something is happening here that's out of our control? No, there can't be. There just can't be... My heart is pounding out my fear. "Look Scully, I may not know exactly what the HELL is going on here, or why you're acting this way, but I do know that I meant every word of what I just said. I meant every single goddamned iota of it, and you wanna know something??!! If you don't want to 'fuck' me, as you so eloquently put it, well then that's fine with me! Because personally, I don't give a shit if you do or if you don't. I don't want to 'fuck' you Scully. I never did and I never will." My eyes widen in confusion, anger and embarrassment. Excuse Me?! WHAT did he just say?? Just a minute ago he was trying to lock lips with me and now... Well, sometimes you think you know EXACTLY what a person is going to say and then when they go and say something so totally different from that expectation... I don't think I've ever been so mortified in my entire life. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Keep going, part 7 isn't over yet... A Simple Kiss: Fears of Endearment Part 2... By Jaime Lyn XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX SCREW YOU MULDER! My teeth begin to grind and I can't remember the last time I wanted to be as far away from Mulder as I do right now. I can't remember the last time I was so appalled. My heart is racing and my adrenaline is forcing quick bursts of air to spring from my mouth. "Fine," I growl back contemptively, "Fine. But let me just tell you something, you sanctimonious son of a----" "Oh for god sakes, just SHUT UP SCULLY!" My eyes flutter in shock and I realize that that's the second time tonight Mulder's told me to shut up. The second time in seven years, as a matter of fact. His body is shaking with anger and it's starting to make me incredibly nervous. I've never seen him like this before. "Just shut up!" he repeats. "Shut up before I shut you up!" That last part is menacing, low, in a voice I've never heard him use before, and it frightens me to no end. If there is one thing I've always known, one true belief I've held, it's that Mulder would cut off his own arm before ever laying a hand on me. Something's just not right here. I open my mouth. "You would never---" "Just try me Scully." Sufficiently quieted and now afraid, I decide not to continue. He, however, does. "Maybe I'm just old fashioned Dana, but for some reason, I refuse to simply 'fuck' a woman who means more to me than my own life." His words are roughly sarcastic at first, but then as he finishes his statement, I can hear his honesty gently poking through. His look of anger is replaced by one of hideous sadness, and I suddenly realize that I've probably just broached his trust. I've just accused him of doing something that, in my right mind, I know he would NEVER do, and I think it hurt him more than any ghost or any conspiracy ever could. His eyes are boring into me, pinning me like his arms are, and I'm beginning to feel like a complete piece of dirt. Christ, he has every right to want to shut me up. I should have shut up. Roughly, he shoves my arms away from him, throwing them to the side, and then begins pulling himself to his feet. "I may not be any ideal man Scully, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I do care about you." My heart is beginning to slow and tremble with every breath. My world is starting to crumble. This is our fragile relationship scattering at my feet, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's no one's fault but my own this time. "I thought you knew that," he breathes softly. I rub my hands at the wrists and pull myself slowly to my knees, facing him as if facing an executioner. I deserve to be executed. I've just hurt him far beyond anything he's ever done to me. Far beyond any ditch or any wild goose chase. I've just accused him of using me like a hooker, of discarding me as if what he and I shared was nothing, and I realize that I might as well have shot him and had the same shattering effect. Actually, I think a bullet would've hurt him less. Damn it, why did it take me so long to realize that all of these years together have been building to this day? Why did it take my hurting him in the worst way possible, to figure out that this was not a sudden epiphany, but rather, a culmination of years of pent up emotions? That everything would somehow come to an abrupt head at this moment. That it had always been inevitable that he would fall in love me; that I would fall in love him. It's just the intricate way our lives have been weaved together; our connection making us whole and keeping us in place all these years, like a quilt. We are interlaced, he and I. But oh god... What if I've just severed that thread? Mulder no... I'm so sorry... "Mulder---" "I'm not perfect Scully, and I'm far from what I know you deserve, believe me-" Oh please don't do this Mulder, please. Don't do this. This is my fault. Mine. "No. Mulder, I didn't think that. I didn't mean... I mean... I honestly don't know what I mean---" He takes a deep breath and regards me for a moment. "But you know, just because I'm far from perfect doesn't mean that I don't love you... or that I'm just using those words to try and get you... Jesus, I would never use you Scully, never. " He finally finishes, and I feel like I just want to cry. For a very long time... And I never, EVER cry. I hate crying. I bite my lip and begin to rise to my feet, however unsteadily. I need to say something to him. I need to fix this; to heal him. Say anything. "I'm sorry," I whisper, moving towards him. "Oh god Mulder, I'm sorry. I know you---" "No!" he suddenly yells. "No, you obviously DON'T know!" Reaching out a hand to him, I gently try to fuse this broken link between us. To try and fix what I may have ruined forever with words said out of anger. Words I never really meant to say. None of this was ever supposed to happen. It isn't supposed to happen like this... Taking deep breaths, I offer my hand to him and feel his fingers recoil at my touch. His reaction to me turns my blood to ice. "You obviously have NO IDEA SCULLY!! NONE!" he yells, and backs towards the door. Don't go, Mulder. Please. Please let me apologize. Let me explain. I'm sorry... "Mulder no---" My feet edge closer to him, a silent plea for his understanding, for his forgiveness, but he backs away from me as if I'm some sort of hideous thing he won't touch. My breathing has become short again, and I am trying to choke back the well recognized lump of misery from reaching my eyes and cascading down my cheeks. I. Will. NOT. Cry. "You honestly think I would use you?" He sounds as if he's on the verge of tears and it's my fault. My fault. All my fault. I think I've just contracted Mulder's contagious little guilt demon. "No," I whisper brokenly, trying to regain what little is left of the trust we once had. "No. Oh god no Mulder. Please don't think that. I don't think that." "Then why did you say it Dana?" He said Dana again. He never says Dana... Not unless... "I-" I take a deep breath. "I don't know Mulder. I don't know. I honestly don't. I guess it... it confused me and I was... I was..." I was scared Mulder. God, I was so scared. I'm still scared. I'm just too scared and too stubborn to admit it. He shakes his head forlornly. "Just forget it Scully. Forget I said anything at all. There's no way to make you understand----" "But what if I want to understand?" I need to. "You won't." "Please don't say that Mulder. How can you say that? After 7 years of my trying to understand, how can you say that?" I'm not being completely honest. I know why he said it, and I think he knows that I know. "Dana, what you just said tells me you could never understand. Everything you just accused me of---" "Oh fuck what I just accused you of Mulder." Calm down Dana... He takes in a breath and I try to soothe over my words. "Look, I didn't mean what I said and I think you know that. I think you know how I really feel here, and what I said before... Well, it wasn't what I meant to say---what I WANTED to say and I'm sorry." He cocks his head to the side as if confused and takes in another breath. "Then why DID you say it Scully?" "I don't know." I sigh and feel like screaming. I'm sure he must feel the same way too. I can't remember the last time I said "I don't know" so many consecutive times. "I don't know what's wrong with me Mulder and it..." I take in a long deep breath, closing my eyes, and for the first time tonight I decide that I need to tell him what I'm really feeling. "It...it scares me ok? It scares the hell out of me." He nods and I continue, hoping that I can bridge this gap between us. "But I want you to tell me Mulder," I whisper, hoping that he will take it as a peace offering, "I want to understand..." His expression only hardens again. My heart sinks. "Tell you what?" he asks dully. "Tell you about the old beat up picture of you that I keep under my badge? Is that what you want to know about? Or maybe you really want to know about how hurt I feel every time I see you upset? Like how this is killing me right now. Or maybe what you really want to know is that sometimes I sleep with that Georgetown shirt you left at my apartment, just to feel like you're near me. Or how I get this ridiculous rush of adrenaline whenever you say my name, or when you smile at one of my jokes. Do you want to know how I've memorized exactly what you look like when you laugh? Is that what you wanted to hear?" Oh my god. Why didn't I realize? Why didn't I... You did Dana. You've always realized. You're just afraid of it. Now I know I won't be able to stand my calm and precarious ground. I know I won't be able to keep myself from breaking. Jesus, I think that that has to be the most beautiful, the most honest thing he's ever said to me... ever... So why can't I stop this insecure feeling... "All I want is the truth," I answer honestly. "Is that what you really feel, or is that what you think I want to hear?" My reply is frail and unsure, and I watch him shake his head morosely, as if realizing his fate and being suddenly resigned to it. Wrong answer, I realize. That was the wrong answer. "If you don't know how I really feel Scully----" "Mulder, I----" "If you can't see that what I said to you wasn't just some hormone driven revelation, or just some line----" He pauses and reaches for the door handle. "Then you won't ever believe me when I say 'I love you', and it won't matter how many times I try to say it." The thin strap of my nightgown falls to one side and I shove it upwards miserably, angered by my own inability to voice the emotions I'd always tried so hard to hide. I know I need to tell him. I need to let him know. I need to say "Mulder, I love you too," and I need to say it NOW. Damn it, why aren't I saying it?? Swiftly, I move my hand to wipe away salty moisture from my cheeks. Oh god, I'm crying. When did I start crying? I stare at the sparkling reflection of the watery beads covering my hand in disbelief, and then I look to Mulder, as if looking for the answer to a prayer. In a way, that IS what I am looking for. But I think I finally realize that the answer lies in me, and not Mulder. I need to be able to find the strength to let him say things like that to me. To let him love me. Maybe that's why he waited so long to tell me. Because he knew I wouldn't want to believe him. Or that he knew I would, but that I just wouldn't be able to accept it as truth. But what if I can't ever accept it? What if I really am that closed off? What if I really have erected so many walls that I can't even scale them myself? Am I really that afraid? Oh him? Of us? I look at him and I think I finally see. Forcing back a dibilitating sob, I manage to choke out words I'd heard Mulder speak a million times. "Mulder... I want to believe." Mulder opens the door and looks back at me from the darkened sidewalk. "I know you do," he sighs. "Maybe one of these days you will believe. Maybe one of these days I won't be so afraid of letting you." I sigh. "You're leaving." It's more of a statement than a question. "I probably should have left hours ago actually." He forces a smile. "You know we all have our demons Scully. You have yours and I have mine. It's just something neither one of us can prevent or hide from anymore. Maybe that's why this wouldn't work--- why it couldn't tonight. Or why it never would. Maybe I was wrong about what I said before---my earlier theory. Maybe it has nothing to do with any ghosts or spirits. Maybe it's just us... Maybe it's just impossible for us to find each other when we can't find ourselves." The sad thing is, that I think he's right. "Mulder, you don't have to go..." "Yes I do. This time I really do." Say something damn it! Stop him. "But what if I want you to stay?" He smiles at me sadly. "Goodnight Dana." The door shuts behind him with the silent click that, to me, symbolizes the destruction of everything we are to each other. My own stupid words, my own stupid fears solidified it. Now he is gone and I am... Lonely. Utterly and completely... Lonely. I'd never used that word before because, to me, it articulated nothing but helplessness and hopelessness--- two things that I had never thought myself to be; two things that I had never wanted myself to be. I always thought that lonely meant pathetic apathy, and that I was stronger than it, better that it, because 'lonely' was nothing but a complicated term to describe simple, hollow people. Now I know that I was wrong. Sometimes a cake is just a cake, and sometimes lonely is just that. Lonely. And right now I am very lonely. Miserably lonely. Mindlessly, I wander back to the bed and collapse onto it, crawling into a tiny shaking ball in the center of the mattress. Beads of salty tears begin to flow down my cheeks freely, as if a faucet were turned on, and I can feel them saturate the pillow. My breaths come in loud shuddered sobs, painful with each gulp and hiccup, and I don't think I've ever been so confused. I feel ridiculous that I should cry over a fight between myself and Mulder, but I just can't help it. Not this time. I need to cry. For once in my life, I realize that I need to cry. I pound my frustrated fist into the mattress mercilessly, and futily, I try to come up with a way I'll be able to face him tomorrow. To go back to the way things were. But I can't think of anything. I can't think of a way. Damn it!! This wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not tonight. I hate feeling like this. I hate him for leaving. Feeling weak and foolish, I pound the mattress again and sink onto the pillow. Tears give way to wretched slumber, and I desperately try to find a place where I can cause no more pain. To him or to myself. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mulder opted to run. To run from her and run from his room. To run from the motel. It had always helped him in the past, wearing his mind and body out until he could think no more, and so he decided to do it tonight. To numb his pain. To numb the feeling of hollowed out sorrow he felt gnawing at the corners of his soul. 10 minutes after he had left her room, alone, afraid, and ultimately miserable, he had already run far enough away to make it to the local convenience store. In fact, so far away and distracted was he, that when the first signs of smoke rose up into the night air, he never even realized it. And neither did Dana Scully. Alone and passed out from sobbing, she lay curled in the center of her bed, while silently, just two rooms down, a fire had been started... <<< "Just go Will. Just go and leave. You always leave." "Kath---please. I don't know what to say to make this better. Please tell me-" "There's nothing to say." "Katherine, god---there's everything to say." "Not anymore..." "Kath---" "Damn it, just GO!">>>>>>>> Dana Scully tossed fitfully in her bed. "Just go away," she mumbled in her sleep. Smoke rose. Flames grew. History was about to repeat itself... XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Yeah, We're getting to the climax here---the part where we find out what the hell is going on... Exciting isn't it? Well, I'll try not to make you wait too long for the next part... and I thank you for sticking with the story for so long. See Sheila? I told you I'd continue writing it. I hope that this helps---at least for a little while... and then you can email me again. LOL. I'll be waiting for it---lol. :o) And to all the other "simple kiss regulars" who send feedback (Kim, Jackie, Jamie, Taryn, Karyn, and Cindy, just to name a few, THANX!!! Your comments keep me going!!) Disclaimer, summary, and all that stuff listed in parts 1-7. (Yes, I was in a hurry and didn’t have time to fiddle with all that stuff…) How am I supposed to live without you, Now that I’ve been loving you so long? How am I supposed to live without you? How am I supposed to carry on? When all that I’ve been living for, is gone… ---------- Michael Bolton A Simple Kiss: Chapter 8: The Lost and Lonely Souls By Jaime Lyn ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Close to 5 am D&G’s General Store XXXX I hate what I’ve been and I hate what I’ve become. See, I used to never give a shit about the opinions of others, nor did I want to have any of them hang around. Maybe it was just that being lonely was like a trademark of mine. I needed nothing and no one and I LIKED it that way. I WANTED it that way… But now… Now it would seem as if all that has changed. For better, for worse, I guess I can’t and won’t ever be sure, but changed for good and gone forever—-as it would appear, in contrast to the person I was. But in light, actually, I sometimes wonder how it is that I could change so quickly----from independent loner to… to what I am now. Dependent. One half of a greater whole. Because if I look at it that way, dissecting that change, I honestly can’t swallow the idea of a simple trust between two people causing such a radical difference in me. So, no, I know it wasn’t that. It wasn’t just trust, and it wasn’t just the need for another. It was the missing part of me that changed my attitude----the person who, as I’ve come to believe, was born as the other half of my soul--- just as I was born for her. And even though I’d always thought fate to be one of those hokey religious ideas that I could do very well without, when it comes to Scully… Well, in all honesty, let me just say that my entire existence seems to have boiled down to the opinion of one woman who has, in all actuality, become the center of my entire universe. Ironic, just a little? Or maybe just pathetic, you think? Well, I think. I was pathetic then---a loner with a chip on his shoulder, and I’m pathetic now---an ex-loner with a chip on his shoulder. Same package—-just different wrapping, know what I mean? Jesus. I need to stop caring so much about what SHE does and what SHE thinks and… Wow. There’s an absolutely FASCINATING, lonely bottle of whiskey, collecting dust and generally minding its own business, on the shelf of tiny “D & G’s General Store,” and I think it has my name on it… Ah, kinship contained within a bottle… I ran here, you know, dodging rocks and trees and kicking up dirt into my face, but I didn’t care. No. It didn’t matter----not at the time, anyways. It still doesn’t. Not now. Not anymore. I look down. Scully would NOT be pleased… My once clean gray sweat pants are all caked up from flying clouds of dust--- casualties of dirt that I had left in my wake, running on empty. My shirt is stained with sweat and soil, my hands not exactly the cleanest they’ve ever been, and I can feel the slight wad of bills tucked into the cotton pocket of my sweats. They’re wet too---covered in sweat from the rest of me. But the run has yet to dissipate my anger. My heart is still pounding like a jackhammer deep within my chest—-my pulse still racing with the word “hurt” on my tongue. Yes, I’m still angry. No—-I’m more than angry. I feel like I want to scream and holler---and then shake her… Shake Scully… Just shake her…really hard. Sit her down and just… just… God, I dunno. I guess I just want to look at her and yell, “Damn it, Scully! What IS it that you’re afraid of?? TELL ME!!” Is that so wrong? Ok, ok, so I’m not an idiot. I’m quite aware of the fact that I started much of what went on tonight. Most of it was MY fault, yes, MY fault, and I DO know that. I was also aware, going into the conversation that snowballed into what is now my silent rampage, that what I had to say might not please her. I knew, I KNEW, but I decided not to dwell on it, thinking that “NOW” would be the “right” time. I thought, “now or never, now or never…” Stupid me, huh? I just… I needed to tell her that I was in love with her. I did. I just… Did. If not for my own personal relief, then because I had an intensely strong feeling that she felt the same way. If only because when I looked in her eyes, I saw that self-same longing reflected there. And I knew she wasn’t going to jump into my arms. I knew she wasn’t going to want me to make love to her but... I didn’t care. That… all of that was inconsequential to me. I just wanted to be able to look at her and know that she knew. ----That I wasn’t crazy, and that she didn’t think I was crazy. And maybe, just maybe, I had wanted to hear it back. Maybe, just maybe, because I have a feeling that she had wanted to say it. ---That she needed to say it. But she didn’t. She basically, in no small way, told me to blow it out my ass. And as unexpected and EXTREMELY Un-Scully like as it was, I guess it didn’t surprise me. It didn’t, I suppose, because for her to admit to loving me back, she’d have to give up some of her precious control. She’d have to let her guard down---to let me in. And Scully, well, as I readily know, my Scully just can’t have THAT, now can she?… God, I’m getting angry all over again… She never, EVER lets me in. It’s like there’s a wall she’s erected, it’s purpose solely to keep ME out. To keep her feelings tightly bottled up like that lonely whiskey on the shelf… Jesus, I REALLY want that whiskey. I REALLY want to get drunk… Alone. Of course. How pathetic is that? I wonder… is Scully that lonely? Does she ever ache to just… Say “to hell with it?” To let it all go? Is she afraid? I know that I am… But she never tells me… Of course though, that anger of her’s—-that wall, that’s partially MY doing---- my fault. All my fault for making her that way. For ignoring her. For acting like I don’t need her, when nothing could be further from the truth. It makes me believe that maybe it wasn’t her after all. Maybe I was the one who built the wall, who put it together---brick by brick. Maybe I lay the cement. I push her away, don’t I? God, I’m so angry at her. SO ANGRY… even though, right now, I know I’m probably being unfair about all this. After all, she was right---in her own little, annoying “Scully” way. I rarely listen. I make excuses. I’d rather make jokes or change the subject than admit to my feelings… And besides, what good is it after I’ve ditched her, ignored her, time and again, all these years? What good is it for me to say “I love you Scully,” when, I guess, to her, it probably sounded contrived or false. “There goes Mulder,” she probably thought. “He’s looking to get something out of me again. Now he’s just using a different trump card...” <’What did you expect? For me to leap doe-eyed into your arms?’> I can still hear her voice in my head, screaming at me. I flinch. And then there was my idiot theory that the whole night was an X File… Just because she starts acting strange and I get a weird phone call… No wonder she thought I was making excuses. Oh God, I really am a fucking moron. It’s just like typical, pathetic me to go making up false reasons for why I would want to kiss her. Just like me to go looking for scapegoats, making sure there’s a way out of any real commitment---a way out of wanting her, after telling her that I love her---that I want to kiss her. “It wasn’t me Scully. It was the ghost, really.” No wonder she bit my head off. No wonder she didn’t believe me. “I wasn’t acting like myself Scully. It was a ghost. It was an alien. It was a flukeworm…” Jesus, I really need to get my head out of the sand! And I still REALLY want that goddamned drink!! Someone from behind me clears their throat, and a strange, older-sounding voice interrupts my silent musings. “Ah, excuse me, sir? Agent… Mulder, is it?” I turn to see a man about my height, good build—with dark, close-cropped hair--- most of it graying now, a half-smile alighting his older, wrinkled face. Glasses are perched atop his nose, an apron about his waist, and there’s something about him----just one of those “things” that makes me suspect he’s seen a lot go down in his many years. I furrow my brows. “Yeah?” He smiles again. “You don’t want to do that,” he says softly. My head turns left and right, my eyes darting, first to one side, and then to the other, checking to make sure that he’s really talking to me. “I don’t want to do what?” I ask, somewhat suspicious. He ignores the inquiry. “Your lady-partner, this wouldn’t have anything to do with her, would it?” He drops a bluish-purple rag onto the counter, and starts to swipe. Long strokes, back and forth, side to side. I fixate my eyes upon the tiny dishtowel, then blink several times. What is this now? What about Scully? My brain slowly registers that I’ve never met this strange old man. I’ve never seen him before in my life, never even passed him on the street, and he not only knows who I am, but he also knows that I have a partner. And on that note, where the hell does he get off reffering to Scully in THAT sort of manner anyhow? My “lady” partner?? “Lady partner?” I manage, and I realize that my tone is somewhat defensive. Angry or not, I still get edgy when people refer to Scully in that kind of condescending way. She is not a “lady agent” or a “lady doctor.” No. I’m sorry. She is a federal agent, fully qualified and highly capable. The clerk puts his hands up in a surrendering type of gesture. “Sorry fella,” he apologizes. “Shouldn’t have said that. I figured you’d react that way.” I fold my arms across my soiled shirt, feeling sweat stains leak through to my skin. “What I meant to say… that is… your partner---Scully, is it? She’s not here with you, so I just thought----I mean---there you are, staring at my last whiskey…” My eyes begin to narrow, suspiciously. No, I don’t like this. Not ONE bit. And not only that---but I’m also REALLY not in the mood for it either. Oh yeah, this is JUST what I need. Love advice from some old general store clerk whom, just like half of everyone ELSE I’ve ever met in the seven years we’ve been partnered, has mistaken Scully and I for a couple. God. How many times a week does this happen? A billion? Either she and I must give off “romantic-love- vibes” to everyone we meet, or else I really have this “jilted lover” thing down pat. No—-stop that. Not lovers----we’re NOT lovers… I sigh. “Look pal, I don’t know what you’re looking to insinuate here, but my partner and I aren’t---“ “Your agent Scully… she’s a pretty young woman,” he remarks, and reaches up an old, pale, freckled hand to wipe his brow. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? That’s why you’re here… Isn’t it?” Alright, that’s it. I’ve had it up to HERE! I mean, just who in the hell does this guy think he is? Sigmund Freud? Thank you, but no. I don’t have the urge to be psycho-analyzed today, nor do I have the patience to stand for it. Some very colorful words about where he can stick his analytical romantic advice suddenly pop into my head. But then, the rational part of me, the part that Scully helped instill, tells me to remember the case---the corpses with no discernable cause of death. The go- nowhere witnesses and inconclusive findings. You haven’t spoken to this guy yet, I tell myself. And you never know what he might tell you. Remember why you need to keep your cool… I decide on a different course of action. “So what about Scully?” I inquire, and he shrugs. “Oh, I think you know,” he answers cryptically, much to my chagrin… __________________________________ Back at the motel Close to 5 am… XXXXX Breathing raggedly, Scully yanked herself awake, the last shards of sleep dissipating and evaporating into the air around her. Terror like that of a foreign, horribly unnatural nature ripped through her head, and sweat dripped from Scully’s shoulders like nitroglycerin; nightgown clinging, hair stuck to her forehead. “Ok, it’s ok,” she whispered to no one in particular. Her eyes darted back and forth to observe her surroundings; same room as before but brighter now---as if someone had turned all the lights on. Her eyes opened and closed again, her pupils adjusting and protesting against the brighter atmosphere’s harsh intrusion. The TV was still blaring, quieter now, but the hum from the late, late show still clung to her ears---thank god for a familiar sound. Though, why she should be so afraid, she had no clue. Scully sighed. <Room.> she realized. <I’m in my motel room. Ok… I’m ok…> Her breathing slowly started returning to normal, and she brushed an errant lock of damp hair from her still focusing line of vision. <Time,> she thought. <What time is it?> Blindly, she turned to the bedside clock and stared at the glowing digits; faded now in the light of the room. With an air of disgust, she fell back down onto the bedspread, banging angry fists onto the mattress. “DAMN IT!” Scully cursed into the pillow. <Mulder’s fault> she thought to herself. Yes. Somehow it was all Mulder’s fault. She just knew it. <5 am. Oh for the love of God!> _______________________________ Oh for the love of god!! This is pointless. Ridiculous. Here I could be going back to my room, about to have a wonderful pity party, just me and some Jack Daniels, and yet, I am STILL standing here. STILL!! And he’s probably just a yokel. A nut. A local gossip-monger, and that’s all. So why am I standing here? WHY?! Why, when all I want to do is go to my room and knock myself into a goddamn drunken coma?! For some reason, I must be a glutton for punishment. “What do I know?” I decide to ask, folding my arms about my chest. His gaze lowers for a moment and he sighs, picking up his rag and setting it down someplace behind the counter. I can see that his glasses are a tad too big for his face, and they droop slightly, threatening to commit suicide off the edge of his nose. Indifferently, he shoves them back with a single swipe of his index finger and thumb. He tightens his apron, shifts an errant stack of chewing gum, And straightens a chap-stick display. He’s stalling. He has not answered me, damn it. “Know… WHAT?” I repeat, this time with more force. What can I say? I am NOT known for displays of patience. Finally, he turns and points to something behind him----an article framed and preserved within a glass case---much like the one I had broken at the motel. This one is better kept though---dust free and newer looking, as if it were placed in the case on the day the headline appeared. I squint and look harder, recognizing the words, having committed them to memory. The look on Scully’s face when she read them out loud has forever been burned upon my brain. No, I think. No---I was wrong. Nevermind that. Scully was right. I was grasping at straws, looking for excuses, searching for a reason as to why she and I… No. No, I don’t want to go down THAT road again… I avert my eyes and turn slightly, managing to catch something else nearest the far right corner of the frame. I frown. Jesus, what is this? A conspiracy? Next to the article, and inside the case---like it’s an artifact in need of preservation, is something newer---a color photograph that I know was taken only a few days ago. What the hell is THAT doing here?? Wasn’t that the one hanging in the town square?? I could’ve sworn… My god, this town must develop pictures and then deliver them---massively distributing a single roll to everyone like junk mail. Christ, A few FBI agents come waltzing through, and suddenly, we’re on everyone’s bulletin board??!! What is this? The Twilight zone?? Considering what’s happened since we’ve been here, it wouldn’t surprise me any. But actually, on a brighter note, thinking back, I can remember well the day that picture was taken. Some guy had yelled “hey you! FBI people!” and Scully and I had turned around. The local guy then waved, his intentions clear, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Scully though… Scully just turned to me with one of those “I’ll get you for this Mulder” looks, and I can distinctly remember telling her to say “conspiracy” right before the flash went off, and an elbow landed in my gut. Now that I look closely at the picture, I notice it’s not half bad. No---not at all. In fact, it’s a pretty good representation of us…Or, at least, I think so… I’m grinning, smirking actually, the way I usually do when I feel like being a ‘smart-ass’, and my hands are stuffed into navy trouser pockets. My eyes are cast down----sparkling, it would seem, at my beautiful, much-shorter partner, who, in turn, is looking at me the way she always does---one eyebrow raised, suspended as if she magically wills it there. Sometimes I think that she DOES will it there. Of course, the photo also goes a long way to explain just how this yokel knew who I was. “The same, yet so different,” he sighs. “Like looking back through time…” I raise an eyebrow that Scully’d be proud of. Like I said before, I really don’t need this right now. I just don’t. This is getting cheesy already. “Alright, look,” I groan. “I’m tired and not in an incredibly perky mood. All I want from you is that bottle of whiskey. So if you could do me a favor, and just ring me up without speaking to me in haikus, I’d really---“ “Anyone ever tell you the REAL story of what happened to those two, son?” I hear the clerk ask. His question takes me by surprise… ______________________________ <Something’s not right here…> Scully frowned and stared around her room, slowly, taking everything in, and at the same time, wondering why in the hell she would think something ridiculous like that. It was irrational, unreasonable, unfounded, and… <Mulder would be proud…> She sighed. <I should be asleep right now… If not for Mulder…> Her teeth gritted. The next time she saw him, she was going to kill him. <Or apologize,> came a voice in her head. <Remember, Dana?…> Reluctantly, Scully thought back, her fingers absently tracing small patterns on the comforter. She remembered the fight---Mulder’s confession, their duel, their disagreement, his wacko theory… But most vividly, she remembered the kiss. That half aborted, ill-fated, somehow incredible, mind bending press of lips on lips. The feel of his fingertips on her skin. His arms around her… The way she had kissed his forehead… The way she’d wrapped herself around him… the way she’d cried, knowing she’d hurt him with words she never meant to say… <Pathetic,> she thought. <Pathetic Dana. What are you, pathetic, or just stupid?> Lifting a hand to wipe her brow, Scully sighed, and tried to block out memories of the past few hours. The fact was, she didn’t want to think about it---not now at least. She couldn’t handle it now, now at 5 am… Her fingers traced around the contours and lines of her skin, her lips, her eyes, her mouth. Mulder’s fingers had been there… His lips... <No!> “Sleep,” she said out loud. “I just need some---“ The sound of feet on carpet and wood stopped Scully cold, silencing her midway through her sentence. Her body went rigid in defense, her spine straightening. Someone’s here, she thought, instinct guiding her as to what the sound could have been, or where it could have come from. Immediately, her eyes darted over to the bedside table for her gun---that familiar plastic and metal that had the power to keep her relatively safe. But it wasn’t there. <Ok, deep breath Dana,> she thought. <Find your gun. Don’t let your guard down… And breathe damn it, breathe…> Rationally, she knew she’d been in much more dangerous situations before. Knives had been pointed at her, guns, hot pokers, razors, homicidal maniacs wielding god only knew what… It was all part of her job---part of her unusual lifestyle. So why in the hell was she so nervous? Resigned, Scully closed her eyes and took a final deep breath. While she slept, someone could have stole in. They could be hiding under the bed, in the closet… Anywhere… “Hello?” she called, trying to sound firm. “Is anyone… in here?” Scully was running out of options, she realized, especially considering that she couldn’t find her gun. And, to make matters worse, she felt as if she were losing her sanity as well. <Nobody’s here… Nobody… I’m just being stupid…> “I’m ah, I’m a federal agent and I’m warning you…” Her body turned and she took another deep breath before again calling, “Hello?” She wasn’t, of course, expecting to get an answer. So when the words, “Hello, agent Dana Scully” came from what sounded like a feminine voice, Scully nearly jumped out of her skin. Her head snapping wildly from right to left, Scully frantically searched for the source of the reply, all the while knowing she needed to figure out where the hell she’d misplaced her god damn gun. < oh god oh god…> “Who’s there?” she demanded, still fighting to keep the fear out of her voice. But her hands trembled violently, her heart beating out a tumultuous rhythm that betrayed her desperate desire to remain calm. Her breathing became ragged, and she fought to keep her brain from spinning wildly out of control. “I said Who’s—--“ Scully’s eyes met the mirror and her words caught in her throat. Her fingers gripped the bedsheets with blinding ferocity, and her back arched away from the object of her horror. It took her nearly 5 whole seconds, 5 seconds that elapsed like slow moving hours, but finally, Scully’s head whipped around to face what was, apparently, somehow, standing directly in back of her. And, upon seeing it, her mouth elicited a very Un-Scully like, very blood curdling scream. _______________________________ I begin to tap my foot impatiently. Real story?? Real story of who? Of what? Those two dead agents?? Certainly not of Scully and I… Realizing I’m only egging him on, I still can’t help but ask, “What are you talking about now?” He grins. “I was hoping to tell you a little more subtly than this,” he replies, his half smile disappearing. “I tried to drop hints—--to scare you a little so maybe you’d start to put two and two together…but you two---you’re a stubborn bunch—-a dense bunch too, if there ever was one…” I blink again. What the HELL is he talking about? I’m starting to think that I should’ve just grabbed the whiskey and have been done with it. He smiles again. “I take it that you’re the believer in the partnership?” What? A hundred different possible replies run through my head all at once. A hundred different questions and retorts, all ranging from “what are you, crazy?” to “yes I am, but what is it your fucking business,” all crawling to the tip of my tongue. However, for whatever ungodly reason, I find that I can say none of them. I know that I should say SOMETHING, try and regain SOME sort of control here, but I think I’m slowly losing it. No, I KNOW I’m slowly losing it… First, I had to go and have those crazy dreams, nightmares, really, then I had to go and try to (stupidly) seduce my partner. Then, of course, I had to go and read that stupid article, which only led to more of my stupidity, and THEN, not surprisingly enough, I ended up picking a fight with Scully… Sooo… I’m thinking I must’ve given myself brain damage sometime tonight. Yes, that must be it. Everything just fried my brain---that’s all. Today’s special---fried Mulder-brains with a side order of cole slaw---to go please. Somehow, I manage a slight, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about.” I watch the man’s slightly wrinkled face go grim. “Oh yeah?” he asks. “Well you had better---and fast too.” I don’t like this… I don’t like this… Chills that I can’t help, that I KNOW must be unwarranted, start to run up and down my spine, beckoning me to give in to the temptation to shiver. No, I think. This could be a trick---A farce. Must maintain control. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, my face seeming to exude no outward emotions---or at least, I hope. I need to be rational, calm. I need to think this through before I let him lead me to hasty conclusions. Damn it, Scully’s much better with all this shit. “Why?” I ask, and decide to keep my arms folded. Better that he knows I’m on the defensive. I pray that he doesn’t see the slight fear in my eyes, the apprehension. I’m not really sure what to believe in anymore, not at this point anyhow, but I don’t want him to see that what he’s telling me is starting to put me on edge. If he does, then he has the upper hand. Years of profiling and years with the bureau have taught me that, if nothing else. His smile is gone. “Why?” I repeat. He sighs, softly. “Because if you don’t, Agent Mulder, then your partner is going to be in serious danger.” ______________________________ It was actually almost comical, as the two petite red heads both screamed bloody murder at the same time. But Scully’s lungs gave out first, and she pushed herself back, over to the side of the mattress, and, unfortunately for her, too close to the edge. With a gasp, her arms flailed, her legs flew out from under her, and she fell ungracefully, backwards, off the edge of the bed, landing with a loud thud. “Oh god!” the second woman gasped, and leaned over the edge. “Oh god, Dana, are you alright?” Scully’s hands flew to her forehead automatically, confused, dazed, and she blinked in shock. One arm grabbed the other, gingerly, and she rubbed her left bicep, already anticipating the numerous bruises she would have in the morning. “Agent Scully?” That voice again… Scully’s head snapped up at the sound of her name, and fearfully, she suddenly realized the reason she was on the floor. And like a shot, she was up, recoiling in barely concealed fear. “How do you know who I am?” Scully demanded. The woman opened her mouth to speak. “I said, HOW DO YOU KNOW?!” Scully repeated, before the woman could reply. The woman opened her mouth again. “Nevermind! I don’t want to know. Just… Stay back!” Scully warned, realizing how un-professional she sounded, but not caring anymore, one way or the other. Her pulse was thudding in her ears. Her eyes ransacked the room for her gun. “I’m… I’m at my wits end, so just---“ “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” the woman intruder offered, interrupting. Scully’s eyes went wide. “Well, it’s a bit LATE FOR THAT!” she yelled, somewhat maniacal sounding, and backed away towards the nightstand. Her hands shook, her chin jutted out, and all the while, she tried desperately to pretend that the woman she was looking at didn’t have a bright blue aura all around her… <Oh god, this is what it feels like to lose your mind…> _____________________________ My heart nearly stops at the mention of the words “your partner” and “danger” in the same sentence. Scully. Oh god no, not Scully. He can’t be serious. This is a joke. It has to be. But what if it’s NOT… Adrenaline pounding my ears, I quickly reach behind me for my gun, yanking it out in one swift, fluid motion. I am not on a remotely rational plane anymore. I am not even in the neighborhood of rational. Too much weird shit has happened tonight, and I don’t care whether or not I’m within my rights here. For all I know, this guy is a murderer. He has someone with Scully right now… He… In seconds, my sig is pointed directly at the clerk’s head, waiting for my nimble fingers to put it to work with a slight squeeze. “Who are you?!” I demand, but he only stares at me. Louder, I yell, “Answer me, damn it!” He sighs again. Calm, keep calm. She’s fine… Scully’s fine. He’s bluffing… “I haven’t done anything with her, if that is what you’re thinking “ he says, and I will my hands to remain steady, calm. SCULLY… SCULLY… “Look,” he continues, his hands raising in supplication, “I haven’t done anything to Agent Scully, so you might as well listen to what I have to say. It’s not like shooting me is going to do you any good anyways---considering that you’ll never find out what you want to know if I’m dead.” He is silent for a moment, and I consider his words… Lower the gun, risk his running away… Keep the gun raised, demand answers… The entire pros and cons list is one giant catch 22. “I’m telling you,” he continues, anxiously, “if you don’t do what I say, then she’ll die.” __________________________________ “I’m only here to help you,” the woman sighed, reaching out a tentative hand, but Scully’s copper head only shook violently. ‘No’ it said, ----her body backing flat against up the wall. “No… I don’t believe in this,” Scully breathed, biting her lower lip. “I don’t believe in any of this… This… absurdity. This isn’t happening… You can’t be… You’re not---“ “A ghost?” the woman offered, and Scully’s eyes widened larger, her face contorting into a mask of self-doubt and confusion. “Yes, actually, I am. Special Agent Katherine Simmons, but I think you know that…” Scully’s mouth opened in shock. Fleetingly, her mind began to play horrific pictures of life inside a giant padded room, wearing a large white straight jacket… No… No, she wasn’t crazy. She just couldn’t be. There HAD to be SOME sort of reasonable explanation. “No,” Scully managed again, her voice wavering. “No. There has to be a rational explanation for this… A reasonable answer. I just know… It… I…” Scully paused, her brain searching for a solution. “A dream.” She finally reasoned, and slowly, she began to edge herself along the wall. Her arms and legs shook slightly as she spoke. “Yes,” she rationalized. “I must be dreaming. You’re… you’re just a manifestation of… of… my subconscious fears about Mulder’s article as it pertained to, to typical, psychologically logical fears about death… and … death and… immortality, and… and the ridiculous notion that some sort of apparition or… or entity could possibly inhabit this----“ “Agent Scully?” “---this immortal coil. You’re a fantastic, albeit strange metaphor for… for unconscious yearnings, and or desires that I don’t otherwise know how to express in any cognitive form. Maybe it’s---“ “Ah, Agent Scully?” “Agent Mulder’s influence that---“ Katherine, annoyed, reaching her breaking point, threw her hands up in the air. “GOOD GOD!” she cried. “Just SHUT UP! Are you ALWAYS like this?!” Scully’s mouth closed, her face registering shock, her back still up against the wall, now nearing the dresser. “What do you want?” Scully somehow managed. “That is, I mean, I’m assuming you’re not an invention of an overactive-----“ “I SAID, SHUT UP!” Katherine repeated, this time more loudly, and more forcefully. Scully complied, feeling irrationally terrified, taking deep breaths, trying to regain her equilibrium. <Dream> she thought. <All a dream…> “Now listen to me,” Katherine hissed, “And listen good. You are in danger, understand? I’ve been trying to… to take measures to avoid this all evening, but you and your partner are damned stubborn, thick headed, and… well, damn it, there’s no time, so nevermind that.” Scully was silent, still staring at Katherine’s eeriely familiar face, her red locks and ivory skin, still encased by a vibrant blue glow that seemed to radiate off of her form like sun beams bursting through rain clouds. ---And if the glow wasn’t disturbing enough, then the face certainly was. It was a face she knew very well… TOO well, as a matter of fact, and that disturbed her more than anything else. For Scully was staring into HER own eyes, HER own complexion, HER own hair… And yet… All of these things… they were not her own-----because there was something so distinctly different BEHIND those eyes, INSIDE of them, almost as if they were completely different from Scully’s own, yet not really. The expression was also somewhat different, more experienced it seemed, and her legs a bit longer, her hair a bit longer… But even so, Scully could not shake the fact that, for the most part, the eyes, the hair, the skin… they were all a mirror image. But how was that possible? How was ANY of it possible? Katherine continued to speak. “All you need to know right now, Agent Scully, is that you are, in fact, dreaming. HOWEVER,” Katherine waved an impatient, frantic hand in Scully’s direction. “That does NOT mean that none of what is happening is real. Like I said before—- you ARE in danger. You need to get out of here.” Kathy pointed towards the wooden door in the far corner. “To somehow get out that locked door. That’s the only way to get out of this DREAM, and you need to---fast.” Scully let out a short breath. “So I AM dreaming,” she queried, sounding half relieved to hear it. “Oh god, I’m not crazy then… not crazy…” She chanted it to herself a few times, breathing it, half whispering it, as if grateful, and she shook her head in rueful acceptance. “Damn it!” Katherine yelled, her temper flaring. “You’re not listening to me! I said you need to get out of here!” “Out of my own dream?!” “YES!” Kathy’s long nightgown, almost identical to Scully’s, swished about her legs as she traversed the short distance between them. Still slightly fearful, Scully shrunk back a bit. But, nonetheless, she returned the retort, as if somehow empowered by the small, fascinating idea of yelling at someone in what she now knew to be her own very frustrating dream. “Why?” Scully spat. “Just give me one good fucking reason why I can’t even have any goddamn, fucking peace and quiet while I’m trying to sleep. JESUS! Why can’t I even keep Mulder’s goddamned X Files out of my goddamned dreams?! If this is MY goddamn dream, then YOU get out!” Scully smiled to herself, recalling the few times in the past that she had actually ever cursed at ANYONE. “God, that felt good,” she sighed. Irritated beyond belief, Katherine seized Scully’s shoulders violently, and Scully’s hands shot up in defense. Arms flailed, nightgowns swished, silk slashed against silk, and both women fought for control. “Listen to me!” Katherine hissed, yanking hold of Scully’s biceps as she twisted in her arms, struggling to break free. “You’re in DANGER, ALRIGHT?! Just LISTEN TO ME!” “I Don’t believe you!” Scully grunted back, and her arm flew up harshly, knocking over several items on the dresser. Katherine yanked her own arm back violently, as if to strike. “You HAVE TO!” A vase smashed to the floor. “WHY?!” The remote flew off the armoire and hit the TV. “BECAUSE YOUR PARTNER’S LIFE IS AT STAKE!” Katherine shoved Scully away, angrily, and both women stared at each other, each shoving copper hair out of their eyes and trying to catch their breath. Scully’s face immediately went pale at the mention of her partner. When her voice finally came out, it was laced with feverent, barely controlled rage. “What have you done with Mulder?” She demanded. ____________________________ Oh god, Scully… My Scully. I can’t ever let anything happen to her… Something in the clerk’s voice strikes a chord, and violently, I flash back to my dreams. Fire. Screaming. Light behind my eyes and a burning. Smoke. Acrid and burning my nostrils. What the hell is all this?? What happened?? Where’s Scully—-my Scully? Where is she? Oh god, I can’t find her… can’t see her, cloud of smoke so thick… The vision is gone almost as soon as it came. I stare at the clerk, pained, paled. Oh god, it’s all too much… “Who are you?” I ask again, and he sighs, yet again. Upon him, I can see the burden of years, the heartache of someone who’s soul was lost long ago--- Once upon a time, in a place where the man I see before me didn’t exist at all. For a slight moment, I wonder what happened to him, What horrible circumstance left him looking so pale and alone… His eyes are vacant, I notice, grave, as if once there was something----perhaps a light behind them, but now it’s been extinguished. His shoulders are slumped, his posture evaportaing before me, and in its wake sits an old, lonely, broken man. A haunted man, shattered and put together again unsucessfully. An old nursery rhyme springs, unbidden, into my head. ‘All the kings horses and all the kings men…’ When our eyes finally meet again, I recognize something familiar in his---a lingering feeling I can’t shake. “The truth, Agent Mulder,” he says, “Is not what it would appear.” My arm, along with my gun lowers. It’s foolish, I know, but somehow, for whatever reason, I don’t think he’s going anywhere, nor do I believe that he’s a threat to Scully or myself. And all that matters now to me is Scully. Something is wrong, and I just know it. I mean, not that I think that Scully is in immediate danger… because, well, I just… I think I would know, I would FEEL if she was but… Call me insane (Scully would) but I believe this guy. “So what is the truth?” I ask, almost afraid of the answer. “To elaborate,” he sighs sadly, “I’ve been trying to do this myself. To gather the strength and willpower to stop the evil all these years----the one that’s been killing the townspeople----those deaths agent Mulder---the ones you were here to solve.” I nod for him to continue, not knowing what to believe. “I wanted to take my revenge, Agent Mulder. I needed to. I worked and studied all these years---to perfect and homn a gift I discovered I had. I just… I thought that I could beat evil at its own game. I thought it would be the only way to find…” his voice trails off for a moment. “Find the love of my life again.” He sighs. “I was afraid that if I resorted to murder, if I just killed… Well, then I’d never find her, never see her again, and I’ve spent all these years trying…all these…” He stops again, forcing back a choked sob, and again, I don’t have a clue as to what he’s talking about. Ok, so I’m starting to feel bad for this guy who sounds like he lost everything he loved but… Well, I’m also getting extremely impatient now, and my heart is starting to race against the horrible images forming in my head. Ghosts, fires, injury, death… Oh god. I need to find out how this applies to helping Scully. Damn it, he needs to get to the fucking point already!! “Find who?” I ask, not knowing why, but hoping it will lead me to the purpose of his ramblings. “She looked so much like your Dana Scully, you know,” he sighs, and presses his finger to the edge of the photo, tracing Scully’s coppery hair like a man in love. Ok, I don’t like the looks of THAT. But before I can speak, even to protest, he continues. “I felt your presence here, you know. When you arrived---Like a shift in a balance,” he begins. “And when I saw this picture… When I saw her face, I just… I knew.” Goddamn it, I want to scream. Stop talking in riddles already! And don’t talk that way about Scully, either. I don’t want you even TOUCHING that picture of her, let alone thinking about her! I don’t care what weird ass psychic- telekinetic, paranormal… astrological… expert or whatever, you think you are. I just… I just… if this applies to us, then GET TO THE POINT! Throwing my hands skyward, I open my eyes wide, cocking my head to the side as if to say “AND???” He looks directly at me. “I knew that she was the key---your Scully. She was going to be the key---the one that could lead me back to the woman I loved----if only someone else didn’t get to her first. But I had to plan—-I had to be careful, quiet, if I was going to do this right…” “Do WHAT right??!!” I am now, very slowly losing not only my patience, but my sanity as well. If I don’t get answers out of this guy, then I am just going to start shooting. “Agent Mulder,” he continues, “Your partner is in grave danger. The person who killed MY partner, and also my soul in the process, all those years ago, is trying to do it all again. See, this person, this… well, she’s evil, Agent Mulder. She is. She sees something she wants, like a mate, for example, and then she goes after it. But when she sees a potential threat… like… Well, let me just say that she’d like nothing more than to see your Scully dead, just for the sheer enjoyment of it. So I tried to help you along---to understand that--- that and so much more, but I couldn’t just come out and tell you, warn you, because then she would sense me near. And if she did---lord knows what she would have tried to pull. So I had to find another way to prevent you from leaving your parnter alone tonight. I enhanced what I saw was there already. I gave you hints and clues, I tried to help you solve the puzzle---to put the pieces together before you ended up… Well, dead, but I’m just not strong enough to connect on that level. I just wasn’t able to make you see the whole picture. All I could project were dream fragments and lost feelings.” Now my pulse is jackhammering in my throat. I can feel it thumping out a steady rhythm, and I desperately try to wrap my brain around all this. I think I’m getting it, but I’m still finding it hard to swallow. It just all sounds so… so… unbelievable… But then, shouldn’t I be used to that by now? “What do you mean, ‘project?’” I ask suspiciously. The clerk closes his eyes for a moment, before staring directly at me. His gaze is nothing, if not a bit freaky. “Agent Mulder, There’s an area of the brain called the ‘god-nodule’” he begins, looking thoughtful. “It’s something that’s present in everyone, but stronger in some than in others. Most often, it’s dormant. However, there are some cases, rare certain circumstances or certain personalities, whatever the case may be, that have the ability to, I don’t know, turn it on. Like a switch. But don’t ask me why or how, because I don’t know. But to sum up, my partner and I did not have knowledge of this when we came here. And we also didn’t know that the two of us were… ‘gifted’ with this… strange ability…” Oh god… In a heart stopping moment, I flash back to the Gibson Praise case. The Patrick Modell case. Horrifying images, so like a flip book, rush past my brain to leave their imprints inside well worn memories. Forcing will onto others. Reading minds. All were somehow a part of this… this… “god-nodule” or whatever, this obscure area of the brain, and yet… they were all very different types of abilities. Telekineses, telepathy… It all came from the same place… The same biological function. It was scientific proof of the X files, and it was all right here… Scully would be proud… What we’ve been searching for, all these years… “You’ve seen “Carrie,” correct?” Blinking, I manage to nod, dumbly. Carrie. Yeah, sure. I’ve seen it. Of course, he could’ve just asked me if I was Jimi Hendrix, and I think I would have responded the same. “Another form of this… this ability.” He clears his throat. “And there’s someone here who has that ability—-what’s it called? Telekinesis? At any rate, it’s dangerous, and she’s been trying to project hostility onto the two of you all night----to separate you two. Edina isn’t exactly a stable cookie, mind you, and your partner, she has a very strong empathic sense for you. A connection that goes beyond the psychic---if you wish to classify it that way. It’s very hindering for Edina. She’d like nothing more than to get your Scully out of the way, and keep you for herself----a guinea pig of sorts.” I know he’s waiting to see my reaction, pausing every once in awhile just to make sure that this is getting the desired effect. He’s waiting for me to either nod in agreement, and/or believe in what he’s saying. But truth be told, I’m terrified of doing either. I don’t even want to consider the consequences of what he’s saying, if it were true. But then again, if it IS, then that would mean that I would have proof---of everything Scully and I have worked on all these years… Scully. Oh god. It would also mean that Scully’s most likely in serious trouble. And all that really matters to me is her. But wait a second here… Edina?? Edina… I know that name… “Edina?” I question, and the older man nods, sadly. “Edina Carson,” he replies. “Innocent at first, but not what she seems. Believe me—-I learned the hard way.” But there’s something else here that isn’t making sense… “Guinea pig?” My inquiry wins me another tortured sigh. “You have this ability in you, Agent Mulder, as did I. Her husband, Mr. Carson, did not. In short, she wants a mate. She wants one enough to kill for it, but she failed with me and took my partner’s life in the process. Now, she wants to try and awaken in you what has been awakened in her. Unfortunately for her, your partner’s hold over you---her own abilities, are stronger than Edina’s. Even untrained, they’re stronger.” Oh god, I’m starting to get this----as crazy as it sounds. “So what you’re saying, is that she’ll kill Scully… To get to me?” This isn’t happening. Maybe if I just close my eyes and repeat that, over and over… “For the most part,” he answers sadly. “Yes.” The older man and I stare each other down for a moment, regarding, thinking. He still hasn’t told me how to save Scully, and, as much as I’m beginning to believe, I still force myself to think that, if something had happened, Scully would have called. Or, at the very least, I’d KNOW she was in danger. I would just… I’d just know… Scully’s ok, I try to convince myself. She’s alright, I’m sure of it. And if not, I can always go check… “Agent Scully is important, Agent Mulder. For years I’ve believed that My Kathy’s soul was trapped in that motel. That it was all my fault. All these years… Well, just… Agent Scully can’t die. She can’t! She’s the only way for me to get Kathy back. The power to do it is in your partner. It’s not harnessed like mine, or Edina’s, but it’s there. And if ever I am going to find my Kathy, to stop this evil, you must listen to me and save her.” ________________________ Something was beginning to smell very odd, Scully thought. Odd like… Burnt toast. Or… No… More like… Like… Scully’s eyes went wide in a different type of fear. God, she knew that smell. “Oh, god,” Scully gasped, her gaze flying over to the locked door. “The motel… It’s---“ “Your Mulder,” Katherine interrupted sadly, “is going to come bursting in through here like some great white knight, Agent Scully---Unless you stop him. He’s going to see the flames---the smoke from a distance, and then come looking for you, charging into your room, but he won’t find you. So please, You need to get out of here.” Scully’s horrified voice was barely above a whisper. “Why won’t he find me?” she dared to ask. “If I’m in my room—-if I’m only dreaming…” Her voice trailed off. Katherine’s eyes were sympathetic, sad, and her next words shocked Scully down to the very essence of her being. “Because you’re not in your room, Agent Scully,” she answered sadly. “You’re really in mine. Or, my OLD one, at least… See, your grief and lonliness, it made you susceptible to… to the power of suggestion, I guess you could say… Which is why I need to get you out of here. Agent Mulder won’t know where to look…” Katherine’s saddened blue gaze followed a trail of smoke as it billowed slowly in from under the door, gathering around their feet as the two women backed away. Scully’s eyes went wide, and she covered her mouth to keep from breathing in the dangerous, foggy, mass. “You sleep walked in here Dana,” she said softly. “I’m afraid it was you that started the fire.” ___________________________ Oh god, this isn’t happening… Scully’s fine, fine, fine, fine… I’d know if she wasn’t, really, I would… My gun drops to the floor with a clatter that I can barely hear. My ears are ringing now and my pulse is threatening to burst through my wrist and throat. This is like something out of a really bad romance novel...If what he’s saying is true, then that makes him… No, this is impossible. Somehow, through the midst of bubbling and colliding thoughts, my brain manages to find the capacity to speak. “I know… I know who you are…” I’m stammering like an idiot now… “Special Agent William Harrison,” the clerk sighs. “Or at least I was…” My eyes widen. My heart stops. My thoughts turn to Scully. Oh god, she’s in danger… XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX And thus ends part 8. <sigh> Well, needless to say, this took longer than I thought it would, and I apologize for the delay. Real life intrudes at THE worst times, doesn’t it? Oye. Anyhow, please PLEASE send feedback!! I’ve been a bit slow to responding this week due to the holidays and all but… Ok, I’ll say it. I am <stands up..> a self proclaimed feedback hog. <Ok, Now, this is when you all smile at me, gather in a circle and say, “hi Jaime!” like at AA meetings.> :o) Well, I shall try to get part 9 out quickly, but I won’t rush the story if nothing comes. (trust me—forced writing is NOT good writing…) So please be patient with me… Thank you all for reading…