Disclaimer: NONE, I repeat, NONE of the characters in this story are
mine. In fact, the dialogue in the first part of it isn't even mine. It
ALL belongs to 20th Century Fox, 1013 Productions, and Chris Carter.
With this piece I am simply fixing a mistake that was made by Chris
Carter while writing the script for The X-Files Movie. (That last
statement is PURELY my opinion.)
Tired
by conspiracy
Rating: PG
Classification: MSR
Spoilers: Fight the Future
Summary: What WOULD have happened if not for the $#@%*^ bee. ;)
The apartment building is cold, and a chill runs down my spine as
the elevator doors open and I step into the empty hallway. Ohmygod, how
am I going to do this? How do I tell him? How do I face him when all I
have to say to him is my admission of defeat? How do I look into those
piercing hazel eyes and say good-bye? I am at his door, and to my
surprise, I find it slightly open. I peer through the crack and see him,
sitting at his desk, looking through what appears to be an old family
album of some sort. Panic and doubt surge through me one last time
before I make up my mind.
I nearly fling the door open in my hurry to make myself known
before I change my mind. The words fly out of my mouth for no other
reason than my need to say something before I am faced with his eyes.
His passionate eyes that I fear I cannot turn away from if I dare to
pause and look into them for even a second. "Salt Lake City, Utah,
transfer effective immediately." He shakes his head, as if the motion
itself could make my words disappear. I continue, rebelling against his
denial. "I already gave Skinner my letter of resignation."
Still, he won't face me. Perhaps he is afraid as well. Though how
his facing me could threaten *him*, I don't know. "You can't quit,
Scully." It is more of a statement than a plea.
"I can, Mulder. I debated whether or not to even tell you in person
because I knew-" Because I knew that even *one* of your pleading looks
could do more damage than a thousand of my nights awake debating with
myself.
He shakes his head again, still looking down at the album. "We are
close to something here." His voice rises in desperation. "We're on the
verge-"
"*You're* on the verge, Mulder." Finally, he faces me. He looks
almost puzzled at my response, but how can he be? I'm nothing but a
weight tying him down. He must realize that. But I have done what I
swore I wouldn't let myself do. I have glanced at his eyes, and now it
is impossible not to continue, to just leave without having convinced
him- and perhaps more importantly, myself. Why does this have to be so
hard? "Please- Please don't do this to me." He stares at me as if lost,
not knowing how to deal with this new development, not knowing what to
say to make me stay.
He stands and takes a step toward me, motioning to photographs and
files that litter the small apartment. "After what you saw last night-
after all you've seen, Scully- you can't just walk away."
"I have. I did. It's done." I know this argument has no real
significance- I'm sure that Skinner will wait a few days before filing
my resignation- but I need him to know that my mind is made up. Or maybe
I'm the one who needs to be sure.
"Just like that?" It's all I can do to keep my composure. If I lose
that than I have nothing. Just the facts, Scully, I tell myself. That's
the only way you're going to get through this. Funny that I have now
taken to calling myself Scully in times like this, something that Mulder
started.
"I'm contacting the state board on Monday to file my medical
reinstatement papers-"
"I *need* you on this, Scully!" His voice is urgent. Again I wonder
if he really means that, or if he is just saying it so that I won't
leave.
I feel a tinge of anger. I don't know exactly where it comes from,
but I am thankful for the surge of adrenaline it gives me. "You don't,
Mulder. You've never needed me. I've only held you back." I force myself
to look away from him as the anger quickly recedes and I try to fight
back tears. I can't let him see me cry. Not now. "I've got to go." I
turn and walk out the door, frantically trying to escape before he can
object any further.
"You're wrong," he calls after me, following into the hallway.
The anger once again surfaces. Why won't he just let me go?! "Why
was I assigned to you?" I ask fiercely. "To debunk your work. To reign
you in. To shut you down." His voice now takes on the same argumentative
tone as mine, almost as if we were debating opposing views on a case.
"No, you've saved me, Scully. As difficult and as frustrating as
it's been sometimes, your goddamn strict rationalism and science have
saved me a hundred times over. You've kept me honest. You've made me a
whole person." I stare at him in astonishment as he continues, dropping
his voice to just above a whisper, tender, almost apologetic. "I owe you
so much... Scully, and you owe me nothing."
I no longer feel threatened by his gaze, but am instead welcomed
and relieved by it. His eyes reveal the honesty of his words.
"I don't know if I want to do this alone. I don't even know if I
can. And if I quit now, they win." I let myself stare into his eyes,
pools of hazel, sincere. He steps closer and pulls me into a tight
embrace as I allow a single tear to slide down my cheek, and I know that
I can't leave him. I can't do that to him- or me. I step away from him
momentarily and he stays completely still as I stand on tip-toe to
tenderly kiss his brow. I then pull him down to my level and rest my
forehead against his, gently rubbing the back of his neck with my right
hand. I want to say something, want to somehow voice my gratitude to
him, not only for finally saying the the words that I have needed to
hear for so long, but also for believing them. For needing me. For
appreciating me. Not able to find words capable of matching my feelings,
I step away from him once more, leaving my hand to rest on the back of
his neck, and gaze into his eyes again, hoping that my message might be
conveyed through my own.
His hands come up to softly cup my face, and I see in his eyes
sadness and longing- and something else. I have waited and wanted for so
long for Mulder to look at me like this, and yet I'm not completely sure
that I'm ready for what will no doubt follow. I want this. But can I
deal with it right now? What happens afterward? I don't know, I don't
know! Ohmygod! All thought escapes me as he leans in to close the gap
between us. For the first time in what must be a lifetime I am
experiencing rather than analyzing. All I can feel are his hands on my
back and neck and his lips on mine, his tongue passionately exploring
the inside of my mouth. For a few endless moments, I can feel, smell,
and taste only him. And then reality once again sets in. The
implications and consequences of this one, simple act hit me like a
physical blow, and I abruptly pull away. Mulder stares at me,
questioning and obviously hurt by my sudden halt. I want so badly to
erase the pain I see in his eyes with another kiss, but I know that I
would only be getting myself deeper into something that I'm not sure I'm
ready for.
He starts to speak. "I'm sorry..." I cut him off with a shake of my
head as I once again move into his arms for one last hug. He wraps his
arms around me, successfully enveloping me in his embrace. After a few
moments, he steps away from me, motioning towards his still open
apartment door. "You wanna come in, talk for a while?" He can't possibly
know how good that sounds, but everything is suddenly moving too fast. I
need some time alone to collect myself, to sort out my feelings before I
can discuss them.
"I don't think that's such a good idea." His expression quickly
changes to a mix between embarrassment and irritation, and it's hard to
tell which feeling he is acting upon.
"Okay, then." As he speaks, he is already backing up towards his
doorway. "Fine. Will I see you tomorrow? No, you know what, I'll call
you." He looks over me one last time before stepping across the
threshold into his apartment. "So I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow."
With that he closes the door. I flinch as I hear the dead bolt click
into place and I stand completely silent, not an inch from the spot
where we just kissed.
Fighting back the tears that are beginning to swell in my eyes, I
turn and begin to walk back towards the elevator. Approaching it, I
raise my hand to push the "down" button, but it won't obey. Something
tells me that if I don't act now, I may lose my last chance. But my last
chance at what? A relationship with Mulder? God knows I've thought about
it countless times, but is that what I really want? Do I want to
jeopardise our friendship even further than we probably just did? Am I
prepared to lose the closest friend I've ever had for something that I
can't be sure will last?
I don't know the answer to any of these questions. I don't know
what I want. I am more confused now than I have been in all my life.
I've always known what I wanted. Always known what I felt to be right.
Even when I had doubts after joining the FBI against my parents' will, I
still knew deep down that I had made the right choice. And now I am
faced with something that I am completely unprepared for. Feelings that
I shouldn't be having, that I have no idea how to deal with. I stand in
the hallway, staring at the elevator doors for what seems like hours,
though is probably only minutes. Then I come to a decision. Whatever my
feelings may be or however I may chose to deal with them, I cannot let
Mulder think that he did anything wrong. It can't hurt to talk.
Slowly, I turn around and walk back towards his door. Approaching
it, I pause only momentarily before lightly knocking. A few seconds go
by before he opens the door hesitantly. He no longer looks irritated,
but ashamed. It kills me to think that he feels guilty about wanting to
kiss me.
He begins to speak as he opens the door, revealing a dark room,
illuminated only by the street lights that shine through the window.
"Look, Scully, I'm really sorry about what happened back there.
I-uh, I don't know what happened, I just thought..."
"It's okay, Mulder." I go sit down on his couch as he closes the
door and joins me. "I'm sorry for not coming in when you asked me. I
just needed some time to sort things out. Everything was just moving so
fast."
"I know." He is looking down at the floor, unable to look me in the
eye.
"Mulder?"
He looks up. "Yeah?"
"Nothing." I don't know what I was going to say. I don't know how
to convey my feelings to him. There are so many times when Mulder and I
can communicate without words, but this situation is completely foreign
to both of us, and neither words nor body language seem to be working.
"I just want you to know that you shouldn't feel guilty for what
happened in the hallway. I mean..." I try to search for better words,
words that don't make it sound so much like a bad thing. "It wasn't...
What I'm trying to say is that *you* didn't kiss *me*, *we* kissed. I...
I got scared. I didn't mean to pull away so abruptly, I just got
scared." We sit in silence for several minutes as he continues to stare
down at his hands, weighing what I have said.
"You... You don't regret it?" I am silent. I don't know how to
answer.
"I... Mulder..." He looks up at me, a horribly sad look on his face
that breaks my heart. "No. I don't regret it." Again, silence.
He looks me square in the eye, searching, though I don't know what
for. "What would you say if I said that I don't regret it either?" He
keeps his eyes on mine, and I stare into them, astounded at what I'm
hearing.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... I don't know what I mean, Scully. I'm just tired. I'm
tired of going to bed at night thinking of you, but not being able to do
anything about it. I'm tired of using any little excuse I can to be near
you, to touch you. I... I'm tired of pretending that I don't feel
anything more for you than friendship when I can't stop thinking that
maybe it could be something more." He stares at me, waiting for a
response, but I can't give it to him. All I can do is sit there, staring
back at him, searching his eyes for some clue as to what he expects me
to say, but none are present.
Not receiving a response from me, he lets out a sigh and takes a
deep breath. His voice is weary from exhaustion. "Listen, Scully, I
don't need any response from you right now. If you don't feel the same
way, that's fine. I just... I just thought we should get everything out
in the open." On an impulse I reach over and take his hand in mine, and
squeeze it softly.
"Mulder, I... I do feel the same way. I just... I don't know if I'm
ready to..." I let my voice trail off. The look he gives me resembles
the one I saw in the hallway, and I am suddenly anticipating another
kiss. I want this. He leans in slowly, but before he reaches me, I lean
towards him and our lips brush against each other. His kiss is so soft,
not as desperate as the one in the hallway. I want this to last forever.
I don't want to face anything other than this moment. He slowly pulls
away and stares at me, looking to make sure that I'm not upset this
time.
"Maybe you'd better go," he says finally.
"Wha-"
"Just trust me, we can pick up where we left off some other time,
but right now I think I need some time to cool down." He smiles
awkwardly. He cuts me off as I attempt to protest. "Scully, if you don't
leave right now, I think I'm gonna have trouble keepin' it at kissing,
and I think that'd just be taking it a little to fast."
I let out a shy smile and stand up, heading for the door.
"Good-bye, Mulder."
"Good-bye, Dana." I almost burst out laughing at his use of my
first name, but restrain myself quickly. Funny how my first name has
somehow become more formal than my last. I close the door behind me and
let a humongous, goofy smile that spread across my face as I head toward
the elevator. I don't know where Mulder and I will go from here. I don't
know where I want us to go. But for tonight at least, for the first time
in years, I am truly happy.
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