Date: 9 Aug 1998

Title: A Study of Light and Dark

Author: Chad Tanaka

E-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: R (mature sexual themes, language, and some graphic violence)

Category: SRA

Spoilers: X-Files: Fight the Future, The End

Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance - Angst

Summary: A story taking place after the XF movie. Mulder and Scully come to
terms with their feelings for each other in the aftermath of the "Stung
Kissing" scene, but reevaluate their relationship after Mulder is shot.

Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Fox Mulder, Alvin Kurtzweil, Queequeg, the
restaurant Brothers K and the bartender at Casey's are the property of
Chris Carter, Twentieth Century Fox and Ten-Thirteen Productions. The
characters have been used without permission for purely non-profit
entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

"A Study of Light and Dark"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dana Scully's Apartment
Washington D.C.
June 29, 1998

Dana Scully tossed around on the bed once again. The faint rustle of satin
against her warm bedsheet sounded quite loud to her in the relative
stillness of the night.

<Night,> she mused. <More like early morning,> she admitted. She turned her
head towards the glowing display of her bedside alarm clock.

2:44am. <Great,> Scully berated herself. <Will you ever get any rest?> she
wondered. Luckily, Scully wasn't expected to show up for work. Skinner had
given both Mulder and herself two weeks off after their last case - if you
could call their latest escapade a case.

Thankfully the outcome of all their recent troubles had been the reopening
of the X-Files. Now Scully would have some time to recuperate from the
mental and physical stress of the past week before starting work again. Or
so she thought. After several insomnia and nightmare-haunted nights, Scully
feared she would never recover.

Scully blew a frustrated breath out and shut her eyes tightly in a feeble
attempt to will herself into some semblance of rest.

The time off wasn't completely out of the goodness of Skinner's heart. The
Bureau was still trying to decide where they were going to stick the both
of them since their office had been destroyed in a fire, Scully reminded
herself. She wondered briefly, as she tossed restlessly in the bed, whether
there really was an X-Files division anymore since all their records had
been burned in the fire.

But as long as she and Mulder still drew breath, she knew that they would
push forward. The Truth, ever elusive, was still lurking out there,
awaiting their discovery.

If anything, Scully figured, the time off would give her a chance to think
about her other remaining problem...or happy development, depending how one
looked at it.

In any case, this...situation helped to push her into the sleepless
predicament she was in now. Scully knew she desperately needed rest, both
to heal the injuries she sustained while being abducted (again), and to
give her mind some time to sort out the confusion and apprehension she was
experiencing over...him - Special Agent Fox Mulder.

Mulder - her partner and best friend.

And somehow, Scully realized, he was becoming something more to her. But
what? What was Mulder becoming to her? A lover? No, she decided - well, not
yet, anyway. And if that did happen, she wondered, what would that lead to?
Marriage? A nice two-story, two-and-a-half bath with a white picket fence
in a quiet suburb somewhere? Would Mulder give her the serene, contented
domestic life she secretly wished for sometimes in the dark hours of night
- like now?

The thought of Mulder taking out the trash or drying dishes made Scully
roll her eyes. <No,> she concluded. <Mulder isn't the settling down type,>
she told herself.

Dana Scully snorted derisively at her childish musings, although the
offhand manner in which she tossed aside the idea of a relationship with
Mulder shocked her slightly. But she understood it was just a part of a
defense mechanism for her. To treat it lightly and as unthreateningly as
possible, Scully knew she was just attempting to shield herself from the
frightening prospect of intimacy with the one person she was closest to in
the world.

<I didn't think you could be even more pathetic than you are now, Dana
Scully,> she told herself. <But I was wrong.>

<I love him.> Yes, she was head-over-heels in love with "Spooky" Mulder.
But she wasn't going to do anything about it. She couldn't. Scully feared
losing him too much. She feared losing everything about him as he was now.
In a relationship, she rationalized, things change.

Burying her cleanly-scrubbed, lightly freckled face into her pillow, Scully
let out a depressed sigh. Sleep was definitely going to be hard to come by
tonight...today...whatever, she thought mirthlessly.

She thought back - back to the night she ripped Mulder's heart out of his
chest by telling him she was quitting the FBI. It had seemed so hopeless at
the time, with the X-Files gone and with the rift that had grown between
them in recent months, Scully just wanted to drop everything and hide
herself under a rock somewhere.

<That was real mature and strong of you, Dana,> she chided herself.

But, perhaps her mistake wasn't all for naught. Scully also remembered the
truly panic-stricken face she saw barreling around her partner's apartment
doorway. She remembered the look on Mulder's face turn from desperate
pleading to one of tenderness, and then finally, to one of...love? Scully
fervently hoped so.

Mulder's words to her that night were further evidence of his deeply-buried
feelings for Scully. He told her, "I don't know if I want to do this
alone...I don't even know if I can." The memory of his declaration brought
a smile to Scully's lips.

<When a someone tells you that you make him "a whole man," you know he's
serious about something,> she half-jokingly told herself.

Then, she allowed herself to remember what happened thereafter, both in her
mind...and body, just as she had numerous times after returning from
Antarctica.

She felt Mulder's hands gently caressing her face. She remembered the
tender kiss she placed on his forehead. She caught a trace of his scent
then - a mixture of anxious fear co-mingled with the faint, spicy tang of
his cologne. Scully felt a flash of arousal at that point, and it was all
she could do not to throw herself at Mulder. Instead, she willed herself to
calm down - but then she looked up and saw the regret-filled sadness in his
eyes. It nearly broke her heart - until she saw...*it*. Scully saw
something else hovering behind the sorrow, and she felt her pulse quicken
at the very thought of what it could mean.

At first Scully dismissed it. She denied the possibility. She stared at him
for several moments before she realized that it was true - there *was*
something else. She recognized it as a feeling that she saw in herself, but
never dared express to him. <Could it really be?> she wondered at the time.

The moment Mulder inched closer to her, she knew that she was right. A
nearly uncontrollable joy swept over her, totally inappropriate for the
dire circumstances surrounding them. But as Mulder brought his face to
hers, the only thing Scully was able to focus on was his beautiful
glittering hazel eyes and his soft, full lips.

Lying in her bed, Scully gave in completely to the flashback. She fought
the urge to run her hands over her body, fought the incredible desire to
touch herself in places that she wished he would touch. She remembered
Mulder's face coming nearer and nearer, toward the inevitable. Dana Scully
had waited nearly five years for this moment, never once thinking it was
ever possible in the real world they both existed in.

<Yes, Mulder,> she recalled saying in her mind, just as she was
breathlessly uttering the words now, in the darkness of night - smooth
satin brushing quietly against soft linen.

And just as the memory of the momentous event was about to come to
fruition...

Scully heard a loud knocking at her front door.

"Well, it beats a mutant bee sting," she muttered resignedly.

Coming quickly to her senses and sitting upright, she stole a glance at the
clock. 2:56am. <Nearly the same time as the last,> she thought with an
ironic smile.

Mulder was nothing if not predictable <well, usually anyway,> she amended.
Scully considered throwing on a robe, but it being a particularly muggy
D.C. night, and knowing that it was probably Mulder, she decided against
it. She got up from the bed and headed for the door.

Thump-Thump-Thump! The irritating pounding beckoned to her. She refrained
from answering, instead she tiptoed up to the peephole to confirm her
suspicions.

A severely distorted, stubble-covered, bleary-eyed face stared back at her.
She let out a tiny laugh. Mulder's ample nose always appeared
larger-than-life when magnified in her peephole.

"Scully! Come on, let me in...its me," Mulder said behind the door.

<Of course it is, dummy,> she thought. Who else would be pounding on her
door at three in the morning? She reached for the deadbolt and chain and
deftly released them.

With a flourish and a practiced look of exasperation on her face, Scully
swung the door open for her partner.

"Come on in Mulder, before the neighbors call the police," she said to him
quietly.

With a slur, he replied "But I am the police." Mulder tried to accompany
the comeback with a smirk of his own, but instead opted to teeter
precariously in Scully's doorway.

She grabbed his arm before his swaying could intensify. "Well Mulder, Looks
like you've been hitting your favorite pub again, haven't you?" she teased
him. She got an acknowledging grunt in response.

She steered him to her living room, where her black leather and denim-clad
partner unceremoniously plopped himself onto her sofa and assumed a
semi-sitting position - which was more like a sprawl, Scully thought with a
grin. Mulder stared off into space as he listed to the left, like a slowly
sinking ship.

He gingerly turned his throbbing head toward Scully, who was standing over
him with that slightly exasperated look she was so good at. His glazed eyes
took in the tiny satin-garbed, irresistibly alluring woman in front of him,
and he smiled goofily for her.

"Hiya, pardner," he mumbled.

"Hi, yourself," she responded sternly. "Just what the hell do you think
you're doing Mulder?" she added. She resisted the urge to place her hands
on her hips, as her mother had done so many times before when Scully was a
youngster. She remembered herself as a fiery, headstrong child who always
seemed to be in need of a good lecture.

<Just as my childlike partner is desperately in need of one right now,> she
mused.

In response to her query, Mulder tilted his head like a confused puppy and
uttered a decidedly thick "huh?"

"The last time you came here, Mulder, you were drinking too. The last thing
I need right now is an alcoholic partner," she scolded him. "Do you
understand what I'm saying to you, Mulder?" she asked.

Visibly taken aback by the unexpected reprimand, Mulder straightened up
quickly and began to stammer.

"I, I...I'm sorry, Scully." He looked down at himself, finally realizing
how he must have appeared to the clean and fresh-smelling beauty standing
over him.

<I really must look the part of the Beast right now,> he said to himself.

Rubbing his hand across his stubbled face, he rose to leave. "God, I'm
really sorry Scully. I shouldn't have come," he apologized. He moved past
her and headed unsteadily for the door.

He was stopped by a hand on his arm. "Not so fast," she said tenderly as
she turned Mulder to face her.

<Hard as steel, yet soft as silk.>

His description of Scully flashed through Mulder's brain and penetrated his
alcohol-induced haze. He attempted to sober himself up as he looked into
Scully's cobalt-blue eyes. He focused on the glint reflecting off of those
deep, oceanlike pools.

"Why did you come here, Mulder?" she asked softly. She pleaded with him
silently <I hope you've come to finish what you've started.> Scully felt
the heat rising in her cheeks, and was instantly embarrassed over her
obvious weakness when it came to Mulder.

She hated showing weakness - to anyone. And she hated showing her
weaknesses and vulnerabilities to Mulder most of all. She wanted to be
strong in front of him. She wanted to live up to his standards - both as a
partner...and as a woman. And she couldn't do that if she acted like some
goofball lovestruck puppy in his presence, she knew.

Scully cursed herself under her breath and looked away from her rumpled,
yet still endearingly gorgeous partner, not wanting him to sense her
awkwardness.

Mulder sensed Scully's discomfort and felt a crushing guilt. The last thing
he wanted by coming to see her was to make her uneasy. He intended quite
the opposite in fact...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Casey's Bar
June 28, 1998
10:13pm

Earlier in the night, Mulder was again at Casey's Bar, his usual hangout
when he wanted to get sloshed. Sitting there, contemplating the happenings
of the past few days, he realized he had reason to both celebrate and drown
his troubles in booze.

The X-Files were open again. That in itself was cause for merriment of the
highest order. He could continue the search for the truth he so desperately
sought. Now, it was for more than just uncovering the reasons for
Samantha's abduction. It was a quest to save the entire human race.

<Oh boy,> he thought. <The safety of the world depends on a porno-obsessed
FBI agent who drinks himself into a stupor every time he has to face
reality.> He downed another finger of Jack Daniels and grimaced at the
irony of the situation.

<Well, take comfort, Mulder,> he assured himself. <Thankfully, the world's
safety also depends on Scully.>

Scully. His gorgeous, sexy, strong, intelligent and endearing (in her own
obstinate way) partner.

He wouldn't have to leave her now - now that the X-Files were reality
again. That was another cause for celebration, he told himself.

Mulder drained half of his next shot of J.D. He smacked his lips loudly and
winked at the bartender. She was the same one who tossed him out that
fateful night - the night it all began - starting with a visit by a
mysterious man named Kurtzweil.

He looked down at the clear golden liquid swirling in the glass he held. He
was mesmerized. In his hypnotized state, Mulder's thoughts drifted back to
his partner.

<What am I going to do about Scully?> he wondered. He had virtually
declared his love for her in his apartment hallway the night she told him
she was quitting the FBI. Mulder knew he was going to lose the love of his
life...unless he let Scully know how he really felt about her.

Mulder was never certain about the depth of Scully's feelings toward him,
but he'd be damned if he'd let her go without telling her what she meant to
him.

He was telling her the truth when he said he wasn't sure he could go on
without her. Mulder realized that after five years of working closely with
Scully, he had essentially become one with her. She completed him. She was
his validation to the entire world that he was a human being, and not just
some UFO nut with a gun. If an intelligent and attractive woman like Dana
Scully could care for him, then he couldn't be a totally lost cause.

She did indeed make him "a whole man."

And now, she would still be there for him. She refused Mulder's
self-sacrificing plea for her to get out of the X-Files while she still
could. To Mulder, her safety was more important than having her with him.
But, in the end, she was as determined as he was not to let them win.

And so, they were still a team. But at what cost to her?

Mulder felt the knife-twist of guilt in his gut whenever he thought about
how many times Scully had suffered because of him. Why did they always take
her? She said that they abducted her and gave her cancer to "make him
believe." He had already believed. He believed after the night he saw his
sister floating out of their living room window, all those years ago. Why
did they have to make her suffer for his actions?

Someday, they would go too far. Mulder hoped that day would never come.

But as for her last ordeal, once again, some kind of divine intervention
had seen to it that Scully was returned relatively safe and whole. Although
Mulder
was not a religious man, he refused to believe that he was was solely
responsible for her safety. He dared not think that. For if he was, there
would be a time in the future when he would fail her, as he failed everyone
else he had ever loved.

Mulder feared the day would come when he'd be too late to save her.

Shaking his head to clear the roiling thoughts in his head, Mulder tried to
concentrate on his drink. Mulder tried to tell himself that things were
falling into place, that life was returning to normal.

But were they? Mulder remembered the hallway embrace once again.

<Oh, Scully,> he despaired in his alcohol-hazed mind. <What happens now?>
Mulder asked himself.

He knocked back the last of his drink. Now was the time for the flip side
of celebration. Mulder wanted nothing more than to drown away the
uncertainty and apprehension. His indecision towards pursuing Scully was
threatening to paralyze him mentally. Mulder didn't want to think anymore.

He realized, with that last shot - as his field of vision began to blur and
swim nauseatingly - he might have succeeded.

Rising unsteadily from his seat, Mulder pulled out some crumpled money from
his billfold and pushed it slowly to the bartender.

"So," she commented. "Finally had enough again." She picked up the money
and counted it. Looking up, she noticed Mulder staring glassy-eyed at the
door.

She leaned over and said, "Hey, Spooky. You gonna be okay? Want some help
with a cab?"

Mulder turned towards her and flashed her his trademark smirk, causing the
bartender's heart to skip a beat and bring a flush to her cheeks.

"Nah," he said. His voice was as thick and slow as molasses. "I'm just
trying to decide what to do. I just want to do the right thing, you know?"

She grinned at Mulder. He didn't seem as paranoid and delusional as the
first time she served him. She briefly considered asking him to come home
with her, but she vowed never to pick up anyone at work - especially
someone who drank as much as this guy.

He had some problems, that much she was sure of.

"I never know what goes through the minds of the patrons here," she told
him finally. "But it would probably be a good idea for you to go home and
get some sleep. Big, life-changing decisions are always better made when
sober, don't you think, Spooky?"

This elicited a short laugh from Mulder. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But
I've never been one for behaving conventionally." With a glimmer in his
eyes, he said to her "You know, I really should get your name - now that
you know me so well."

The bartender's cheeks turned a brighter shade of red. She desperately
hoped that "Spooky" was too drunk to notice.

"Glenda," she said softly. "Glenda Hadley." She thrust her hand out for
Mulder to shake. He took it with the grin still plastered to his face and
shook it gently.

"Call me Mulder," he replied.

"You got a first name, Mulder?" she asked. "Aside from 'Spooky,' of
course."

"Yeah, but I like it better when you call me Spooky."

Glenda giggled slightly at that. <Oh, boy. What a little schoolgirl you're
turning into,> she berated herself.

He released her hand and turned toward the doorway. "Okay, Glenda. I've
gotta get going," he said to her. "I think I know what I have to do now."

She stared at him for a few seconds and then replied with another heartfelt
smile, "Go get her, Spooky." She sympathetically tipped her head towards
the front door.

"What?" said Mulder, with a shocked look on his face. He wondered if he had
let something slip during his drinking spree.

"When people come in here to drink themselves into a stupor, it's usually
one of three things: Work, money or love," she told him. "You haven't
mentioned any government conspiracies tonight, so I'm assuming it's not
about work. You don't really strike me as the type to have money problems,"
- she flashed the bills that he had just handed her. "And I'm being
presumptuous in thinking this isn't about a man, so that leaves a woman,"
she finished.

"And, mister," she added. "You *do* look the type who could have girl
trouble."

He surprised her with a deep, mirthful laugh. He tilted his head back as
the laughter subsided. "You have no idea, Glenda," he said to the ceiling.

Looking back at her, Mulder said "If you ever get tired of this place, you
ought to try out for the FBI. You'd make a hell of an investigator."

"Ha!" was her quick response. "And work with the likes of you? That'll be
the day!"

"Goodnight, Glenda," Mulder said with a grin as he headed for the exit.

"See you around, Spooky," she answered softly. Glenda began to put Mulder's
shot glasses away and then looked at the doorway the Special Agent had just
passed through. She smiled again and shook her head in amusement.

<I don't know whether to envy the lucky girl, or feel sorry for the poor
thing,> she concluded.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mulder raised his arm to flag down a cab. He had an eerie feeling of Deja
Vu. Just days ago he stood on the same sidewalk, attempting to ignore the
ramblings of the eccentric Dr. Alvin Kurtzweil. Mulder shuddered at the
memory of what had come after. If only he hadn't dragged Scully into the
whole ordeal, perhaps she wouldn't have been abducted again. Or maybe she
would. She wouldn't be safe until Mulder gave up searching. But now, she
wouldn't give up searching either.

This was exactly why Mulder tried to drink himself silly. He didn't want to
think about it anymore.

<Well jeez,> thought Mulder. <That didn't work out too well, did it?>

Finally, a cab pulled up to him and Mulder got in.

"Where to, pal?" said the burly driver. The heavily bearded man was chewing
impatiently on an unlit cigar and glanced at Mulder in his rearview mirror.

Without hesitation, Mulder answered.

"Take me to Georgetown."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

END - "A Study of Light and Dark" 1/5
--
Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net

Subject: NEW- "A Study of Light and Dark" 2/5 - SRA
Date: 9 Aug 1998 05:58:49 GMT
From: "Chad K. Tanaka" <chadt@aloha.net>
Organization: Hawaii OnLine - Honolulu, HI
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 2/5

Author: Chad Tanaka

e-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: R (mature sexual themes)

See part one for complete information.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dana Scully's Apartment
3:10am

And now, here he was, drunk and uncertain of exactly why he had shown up at
her door again. His diminutive partner was standing just inches away from
him, trying her best to maintain her composure.

All Mulder wanted to do was take Scully into his arms and kiss her. He
wanted to profess his undying love for her. He wanted to make love to her.
He wanted so many things.

But like so many times over the past five years, fear held him back. He
worried that once they crossed the threshold into an intimate relationship,
there would be no going back. If things didn't work out (and with both
their track records in the romance department, that was a distinct
possibility), would their strong bond of friendship and trust survive?

The fear that he would lose his best friend at the same time he gained a
lover kept him rooted in place, staring helplessly at an equally frustrated
Scully.

They both spoke simultaneously.

"Scully..."

"Mulder..."

They smiled awkwardly at the uncomfortable faux pas. Then Mulder gestured
that Scully should go first.

"Mulder, we really need to talk," she said. "You can't keep drinking so
heavily and show up at my doorstep at ungodly hours of the night. It's not
healthy for you." She reached up tentatively with her slender fingers to
push a lock of hair away from his forehead.

She smiled for him slightly. It was that sweet, indulgent motherly look
that Mulder loved so much. It made him feel safe and incredibly cared for.
It was the look that convinced him that things could be right in the world.
It was a look that sometimes made him forget the pain.

And if he tried hard, Mulder could convince himself that her look revealed
just how much Scully really loved him.

But he never let himself indulge in that belief. It hurt too much to think
about what it would mean if it were really true.

"You're beat. Why don't you grab a shower. We can talk for awhile, and
after that, you can stay with me and get some sleep," she told him calmly.

"Oooh, Scully," he teased. "What would your mother say if she knew you were
offering to share your bed with a strange man?"

"On the sofa, Mulder," she intoned with mock-seriousness. "And my mother
knows you. You would never take advantage of an innocent and unassuming
woman."

"Oh, but it will be such a decadent pleasure to corrupt that innocent and
unassuming woman - as long as we're talking about you, Scully," Mulder
quipped.

Scully rolled her eyes at Mulder and walked over to her hallway closet to
fetch a bath towel for her incorrigible partner.

She couldn't help but smile as she opened the closet door and reached for a
towel. This verbal dance they were performing had been played out numerous
times before during their relatively short partnership. She realized that
it was an oblique way of expressing their interest in one another without
coming right out and saying it. Mulder was a bit more overt in his
dialogue, but Scully admitted she too enjoyed the teasing innuendoes and
playing hard-to-get as much as he did.

But after what happened in Mulder's hallway, Scully wondered, how much
further could the playful banter go before they had to, as they say, "put
up or shut up?" Scully's smile transformed into a slight frown - a look she
had adopted more and more often over the past few months.

<Stop it, Dana,> she admonished herself. <Just enjoy Mulder's company for
what it is for once.> Scully rubbed at her forehead and consciously
smoothed out her furrowed brow. Her feeling of vulnerability - enhanced by
the trauma of her recent abduction - was intense and uncomfortable. But by
the time she rounded the corner, her grin had returned - even if it was
slightly forced.

"Here," she said as she handed Mulder the fluffy white towel.

Mulder immediately saw the change in Scully's eyes. They seemed duller
somehow. The joyful gleam of just a few minutes ago had disappeared. Her
smile was still there, but Mulder guessed that it was only there for his
benefit.

He grasped her wrist lightly before she could lower it. "Scully, what's
wrong?" he asked as gently as he could.

Embarrassed at being so transparent, Scully turned her head away from him
and looked down at the floor. "It's nothing, Mulder," she lied. "I'm sorry,
I'm fine." Still, her eyes were riveted to the floor. She didn't want him
to see her face. She realized that her expressive eyes gave her away every
time.

This wasn't what Mulder wanted. He could feel the tension radiating from
her. He wondered if this was a portent of things to come. If Scully
couldn't relax around him - couldn't be completely open - what would become
of their friendship, and in turn, their partnership?

He had to do something. He had to make it right somehow.

He reached out and cupped her flawless, angular chin. He raised her face to
his until she was forced to look into his eyes. Mulder saw the fear there
that was a reflection of his own. But at the same time, he detected a faint
spark of...what? Desire? Love? Hope? He wasn't sure. There was an urgent
pleading in her gaze. It was as if she desperately wanted Mulder to make
the next move.

Should he? Mulder tried to think it through, but only received a dull throb
pounding in his head for all his troubles. <Better make the most of it,
Mulder,> he thought to himself. <Because you're gonna have one hell of a
hangover tomorrow.>

So, Mulder screwed up his courage and spoke.

"I meant everything I said, Scully," he said to her, referring to the night
in the hallway. "And although it may be hard for the both of us, I
hope...no, I'm very certain that we can work it all out." Mulder finished
with a shuddering sigh. He never thought he could feel so frightened and
excited in his entire life. It was just as bad as the hallway, although he
wasn't as confused or as panicked as he was then. Despite this, the hand
that held Scully's face began to tremble and so Mulder quickly dropped it
to his side to cover his nervousness.

"I love you, Scully."

<Whoa. Did I just say that?> Mulder heard the words, but didn't remember
making the conscious effort to speak. He felt himself begin to sway again.
He was very close to passing out. He was sure of it.

Scully was flabbergasted. After hearing Mulder's declaration, she was
unable to articulate a coherent response. She loved him as well, of that
she was as sure of as she was certain that the earth revolved around the
sun. But she was surprised that Mulder had said anything so soon after that
night. She had been worried that he was going to deny it ever happened. She
considered doing that herself. But that wouldn't be fair - to either of
them.

<Wait,> a thought invaded her mind. <Mulder's drunk. Does he really mean
it, or is that just the booze talking?> she asked silently. She had to be
sure.

Gently sliding her hands along his collarbones to rest upon his shoulders,
she questioned him in a soothing voice, "Mulder, you've been drinking. Are
you willing to take responsibility for what you say while under the
influence?" her electric blue eyes bored into Mulder, compelling him to
answer.

Mulder realized that Scully had given him an opportunity to back out, to
blame his snap decision on inebriation. <Either she really cares for me,>
decided Mulder, <Or she doesn't really want me.>

Well, Mulder figured, who could blame her, really?

<Damn her stubborn analytical streak,> thought Mulder with a wince. <No,>
he reprimanded himself. <She's perfectly within her rights to ask me that.>
Letting out a frustrated breath (he hoped didn't stink of J.D. too much),
Mulder tried to put his lovely partner at ease.

"I can handle the liquor, Scully," he answered clearly. "If anything, it's
given me the courage to say what I've been feeling for a long time."

Curious, Scully asked "How long?"

Looking up from her and feigning deep thought, he said finally, "Actually,
the first time you walked into our office."

<The whole time we've known each other,> Scully thought. She had also
recognized the electricity between them on that fateful day. She still
remembered their first handshake. It was like touching a live wire. Scully
had to stop herself from reacting to the sensation, lest Mulder think she
was insane. She remembered thinking he was gorgeous, and though she would
never admit it to anyone, she had entertained thoughts of seducing him
right there on his desk. Wearing the pair of glasses he seemed to have
abandoned as of late, Mulder was practically irresistible. That he
immediately adopted an adolescent arrogance in talking to her only served
to intensify her arousal and interest in Fox Mulder.

As her cheeks reddened with the flashback, a slow grin began to spread
across Scully's features. She was incredibly flattered that the attraction
between the two of them was mutual, even then.

"Well, to be completely honest," he continued, "I was sure of my feelings
for you right after you dropped your robe for me in that Bellefleur hotel
room."

"Mulder!" Scully shrieked. Her eyes were wide, but the glint of amusement
there was unmistakable to Mulder. Encouraged by her acceptance of his
admission, he decided to elaborate. "You didn't know it at the time,
Scully, but it took all my self-control not to turn you around, kiss you
right on the lips and take you to bed." Mulder took a deep breath. He felt
like he just had the wind knocked out of himself.

Scully stood staring at Mulder, mouth gaping. It opened and shut silently,
as if she were a fish out of water. Mulder guessed he had taken the words
out of her mouth, so to speak. It was very endearing to him.

In her shocked state, Mulder took the initiative and wrapped his long arms
around her shoulders and drew Scully into a tender embrace. Scully slid her
arms beneath his jacket and grasped his torso tightly.

<He always smells so good,> Scully mused.

<She always smells wonderful,> Mulder thought to himself.

Finally, Scully found the words. "I...I wish you *had* done something that
night, Mulder," she said. "I was scared at first because of the mosquito
bites, but later - as I was listening to you talk in your room - I
sometimes wish that you *would* have climbed into that bed with me." She
looked up into his eyes, searching for his reaction. She saw his face, saw
the dawning realization of what they had both missed - an opportunity that
the two of them, in their cool professionalism, had let pass and left them
regretting it for the past five years.

<But now...> she thought, <Here is another chance.>

And then she smiled for him. It was a true heartfelt smile that came from
within. And she blinded Mulder with that thousand-watt grin. It was a sight
that Scully had never graced Mulder with before.

He thought it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his entire
life. Mulder never imagined that Dana Scully could look even more gorgeous
and desirable than she was before. Her beaming face proved him wrong.

Taking the smile as a sign, Mulder decided to make good on his original
intentions with Scully. He slowly raised his palms to lightly cup her face
as he had done before. And then he said to her, "I love you, Scully. I
always have. And if you'll have me, I'd like to show you how much I love
you for the rest of your life." He looked into her eyes to see her
reaction.

As before, the tears began to well up in Scully's eyes. This time, there
was no uncertainty on her part. There was no embarrassment or anger at her
being vulnerable in front of him. Mulder could see the truth and beauty of
his love for her mirrored in her expressive doe-eyes.

With great difficulty, Scully could only utter the words "Oh, Mulder" in a
tiny, girlish voice. The power of Mulder's declaration overwhelmed her,
making it incredibly difficult for her to think or speak. Luckily, what
happened next required little thinking on Dana Scully's part.

She leaned forward and raised herself on the tips of her toes. She wanted
to show Mulder that the attraction between the two of them was not
one-sided. But Mulder met her halfway - a compromise that embodied their
symbiotic working relationship.

And after five years of frustration and unrequited desires, Mulder and
Scully's lips met (romantically, anyway) for the first time.

At first, it was a tender, almost chaste kiss. They explored each other
tentatively. They each noticed the soft, tender lips of the other. The
sensation was new, yet oddly familiar - almost natural in a way.

Then, as they drew closer together, the kisses deepened and changed
somehow. Scully's analytical mind kicked in once again and noted that deep
repressed sexual tension was rising to the surface. The passion in their
kiss foretold of new and exciting experiences.

Scully was incredibly aroused. She thrust her tongue into Mulder's mouth,
raking it across his front incisors. With a low moan, Mulder responded in
kind, wrapping his tongue around her own.

Mulder ran his hands across Scully's back. The pajama top she wore was cool
to his touch. His hands stopped at a point just above the erotic swell of
her upper hips. He drew her even tighter to him, crushing his straining
erection against her abdomen.

Scully gasped and broke the kiss. She stared at him with a strange look. He
feared he had overstepped some kind of boundary and offended her.

"Scully...I'm sor-"

"Shut up, Mulder," she said throatily. "I want you."

And as he looked closer into her eyes, he realized that she did.

"Take me to bed," she said with finality. To punctuate her statement, she
coiled her hands behind Mulder until she grasped his buttocks and gave them
a quick squeeze, pleasantly surprising him. Scully moved her hands up and
pulled the bottom of Mulder's T-shirt out of his pants.

"Oh, Agent Scully," Mulder murmured into her ear, as he suckled an earlobe.
"I never knew you could be so naughty."

"You haven't seen anything yet, Agent Mulder," was her breathy response.
And with that, she thrust her hands down the back of his jeans, slipping
them under his boxers and raking her short fingernails over his bare
buttocks.

Now it was Mulder's turn to gasp. He reached for her and kissed her deeply
again. With a short laugh he said to her, "You want to go to bed, my dear?"
When she nodded vigorously at him, he bent over and scooped her legs out
from under her. "Your wish is my command," he whispered to her.

Her special smile returned. Mulder's heart swelled when he realized that
look was meant to be seen by him and him alone.

Carrying her was the easiest thing in the world, he mused. She was so tiny
and light. Free to look upon her adoringly without the emotional barrier
that had grown between them over the past few months, Mulder gazed at the
copper-haired angel in his arms and thanked his lucky stars that he ever
found such a wonderful woman to love. He knew he didn't deserve her, but he
would spend the rest of his life making sure she didn't regret her choice.

With her slender arms wrapped around him, Scully turned her head and began
nuzzling Mulder's neck.

"Mmm," she murmured, voicing her appreciation of the smooth, fragrant skin
just behind his ear. She planted a wet kiss there, then she ran the tip of
her soft, warm tongue over the ridge of Mulder's earlobe.

The incredibly sensual gesture on her part rapidly elicited an intense
reaction in Mulder's lower regions. His member strained painfully against
his jeans. He hoped he would get some relief from this sweet agony in due
time.

Entering Scully's bedroom, Mulder stopped at the foot of her bed and looked
at the petite woman he cradled in his arms. He felt like her protector at
the moment - her "knight in shining armor," so to speak. In this position,
Mulder almost imagined that he could prevent any pain from ever hurting her
again.

He could shield her from everything...except himself. <No,> he decided.
<Never again.> He vowed not to ditch her anymore or say cold, hurtful
things to her ever again. He would probably fail at that - just as he
failed at everything else in his life. But, although he knew he would never
succeed in undoing the damages of the past, Mulder realized that Scully was
worth all his effort to try.

Thankfully, knowing Scully, being the generous, loving, and loyal person
that she was, she would never expect anything more from him then his best
effort. And Mulder was more than willing to give her only his best.

With great difficulty, as a lump formed in his throat and the hot, salty
tears began to well up in his eyes, Mulder spoke:

"Scully, I've always loved you - will always love you. I want you to be
with me forever." A single tear of release ran down Mulder's cheek and hung
heavily from the bottom of his sculpted chin.

Still in Mulder's arms, Scully opened her mouth slightly. He saw her lick
her lips and he shuddered involuntarily with desire. Scully's full,
sensuous lips glistened in the warm glow of her bedside reading lamp. Then,
surprisingly, she raised her head and slowly kissed Mulder's chin, running
her tongue across his raspy stubble and licking his tears away.

Leaning back, she gave Mulder a Cheshire cat grin. Her eyes seemed smoky,
darkened with love and desire for him. Scully always thought Mulder was an
attractive man - in a quirkily unique way. With his unruly mane of hair,
his hangdog eyes, prominent nose, slightly receded chin and a pouty lower
lip, Mulder was not the usual example of the ultimate in male beauty
(although his body was quite a different story), she thought to herself.

But being here tonight, practically floating in Mulder's loving arms, and
hearing his heartfelt admissions, Dana Scully was very sure that Fox Mulder
was the most beautiful and wonderful man she had ever had the good fortune
to lay her eyes on. The many trials and tribulations of their five years
together were but a distant memory for her at this moment, for the essence
of Mulder, his core was exposed to her now.

And it was this part of him that she embraced and loved. Everything else
was either a minor distraction...or pure gravy, she thought naughtily. Her
wicked grin grew even wider. This drew a raised eyebrow from Mulder.

She decided to speak first, lest he compel her to explain herself. "And I
love you...Fox. For years I tried to think of you as only a friend - my
best friend. But over time, I failed at that miserably. And I've cursed my
weakness ever since that I was too afraid to tell you that."

And now, she too felt the happy wetness upon her rosy cheeks. Mulder craned
his neck and planted tiny kisses around the newly moistened areas of her
face. Then he slowly, passionately moved closer and closer to her lips.
Scully met him halfway and crushed her mouth to his. He thrust his tongue
into her mouth. She sucked at the sensually textured flesh, hungrily biting
the tip with her teeth.

Breaking the kiss and breathing heavily, She asked him "Why don't you put
me down, Mulder. You must be uncomfortable."

He laughed throatily for her. "Scully, you're as light as a feather. I
could carry you all night." But he laid her gently laid her down on the
soft, downy comforter covering the bed anyway.

She giggled slightly. "I'm glad you noticed. I guess all that running and
watching what I eat finally worked," she said.

Mulder couldn't resist. "Actually, I like my women with a little meat on
their bones. I'm going to take perverse pleasure in fattening you up." His
hazel eyes glittered mischievously.

She laughed for him then, a full-throated heartfelt laugh of joy and
relief. What she had wished for desperately for so long had finally
happened - or nearly so, she corrected herself. There was only one thing
left before their new life could begin.

Was she ready? Was he? Scully asked the question, but got no answers.
<Well, there's only one way to really find out, isn't there?> she
concluded.

Quivering with anticipation, she cupped her hands around Mulder's face,
noting the interesting contrast between her smooth, pale porcelain skin and
Mulder's rougher tan features. She drew him down to her tenderly and
brought his lips to hers. She gave him a slow, probing kiss. She tasted a
hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier but ignored it. She concentrated on
the rasp of his darting tongue, the sexy smoothness of his front teeth, the
soft, supple flesh of his lower lip.

She felt his hands exploring areas she only imagined he would in the past.
His touch was exquisite, she thought. His fingers trailed a path of
tingling fire wherever it came into contact with her skin. He massaged her
breasts through the satin of her nightwear, her tiny nipples hardening in
reaction to his caresses. Mulder rubbed the tips of his fingers across her
firm points poking prominently through the thin material. She was wearing
nothing underneath the pajamas.

Scully sighed contentedly while Mulder buried his face into her neck and
growled in arousal.

<God, I want him so bad,> she heard a voice in her head say. She wondered
who was speaking. She mentally shrugged and guessed that it was her inner
self, the one who wasn't afraid of the truth or saying what she really
felt. <Yes, now,> it pleaded. She broke away from Mulder's embrace.

"Now, Mulder. Now. Please," she uttered out loud. There was no room for
denial anymore.

Mulder looked deeply into Scully's eyes once again. Her irises seemed to
sparkle in the dim light. He thought he could see golden flecks swimming
amongst the shards of ice-blue. She was the most gorgeous, amazing person
he had ever known. Scully was his friend, he noted, and now she would be
his lover.

And then the light on the nightstand went dark.

And the night was quiet once again.

Well...almost.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

END - "A Study of Light and Dark" 2/5
--
Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net

Subject: NEW- "A Study of Light and Dark" 3/5 - SRA
Date: 9 Aug 1998 06:00:02 GMT
From: "Chad K. Tanaka" <chadt@aloha.net>
Organization: Hawaii OnLine - Honolulu, HI
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 3/5

Author: Chad Tanaka

e-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: R (mature sexual themes)

See part one for complete information.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

June 29, 1998
7:25am

Darkness gave way to light. The bright shafts of the morning rays burned
through Dana Scully's bedroom window, creating warm pools of golden
sunshine upon her hardwood floors. The quiet of the night was replaced by
the calling of the birds on the cherry blossom tree just outside.

Scully hovered in the comfortable space just between the serenity of
slumber and the clarity of consciousness. In her mind's eye, she could see
Mulder. He was caressing her hair, holding her face in his hands, planting
soft kisses upon the pale alabaster skin of her eyelids, cheek, and neck.
As she surfaced from under the gauzy haze of sleep, Scully felt all the
lingering memories of the night before, as if each touch, each electric
sensation she experienced with Mulder was permanently etched upon her skin
and brain.

She kept her eyes shut, but she smiled sweetly with the knowledge that
something truly special had happened to her. Scully felt that she should
feel different somehow, but aside from feeling happier than she had ever
remembered being in her thirty-four years, she didn't think that things had
changed all that much. The world still seemed to revolve around the sun,
day still followed night, and they were both still Fox Mulder and Dana
Scully.

She dearly hoped things wouldn't change. But being the analytical and
practical person she was, Scully realized that would probably be too much
to wish for.

<Well being incredibly happy is already a big change, Dana,> she chided
herself.

With the contented grin still upon her face, she swept her hand across to
the other side of the bed, intending to reach for her newfound lover.
Instead, she was greeted with empty air and the cool fabric of a seemingly
unused pillow.

With a shock, Scully's eyes flew open. She raised her head up in alarm. For
one horrifying moment, she thought her romantic interlude with Mulder had
only been a dream, a wonderful subconscious reaction attributable to a
combination of wishful thinking and stress.

Scully began to tear up, lamenting the cruel fate that had relegated her to
pining hopelessly for her partner, never allowing her to make real what she
enjoyed freely in sleep. But then...

She saw it. Placed lovingly upon the top of the pillow next to her was a
single long-stemmed red rose. Scully's tears did streak down her cheeks
then - not due to distress but instead because of the intense upwelling of
emotion she felt in response to Mulder's thoughtful and loving gift.

She was touched beyond words. Scully hesitantly picked up the blood-red
flower, almost afraid that it would disintegrate into an ethereal wisp of
smoke.

"Oh, Mulder," she murmured between her happy and relieved sobs. Scully
couldn't contain herself. She was glad Mulder wasn't here to witness her
reaction.

<He'd probably laugh at me,> she thought, embarrassed at her temporary
weakness.

She wiped demurely at her eyes and sniffed quietly. When she had regained
her composure, she brought the rose up to her face and rubbed the soft,
tender petals gently across her lips. She smiled again, thinking of him.
She breathed in deeply (well, as much as a woman with a runny nose from
crying could), taking in the familiar fragrant essence of the flower
forever associated with love and romance.

<A rose by any other name...> The thought jumped into her mind, unbidden.
<Is that what he thinks of me?> she wondered. Scully herself didn't think
there was all that much to love about herself. She admitted she was
intelligent, sure, but that was usually a hindrance, as most men felt
threatened by her mental prowess. Scully knew she wasn't buxom. She was
short. Her facial features were acceptable, she thought - although she felt
her lips always looked like somebody had punched her square in the mouth.
Scully sadly conceded that her looks and stature were nowhere close to
those found in the present paragons of beauty on the movie screen or on
fashion runways.

And her personality - Scully didn't even want to go there. She imagined she
would be regarded as detached and cold, even hostile on a bad day. She felt
that her unofficial (and silently derisive) Bureau nickname of "Ice Queen"
was well deserved.

After some reflection, she concluded the only person who understood her
completely was Mulder. He knew the depths and passion of her feelings. He
knew she just didn't know how to express herself in an effective manner.
And - go figure - Mulder seemed to like her looks as well, she thought as
she shook her head in amazement.

Mulder knew that deep down Scully feared the hurt that comes from opening
up. He knew why she avoided facing the pain that resulted from depending on
another person completely. Life was just too difficult to do otherwise, she
believed.

Yes, Mulder knew that better than anyone else, she realized.

And this made her love for Mulder all the more special, she knew. For two
people - who found it hard to trust anyone - had found it in themselves to
put their complete and utter trust into one another. To be able to say that
you trust your life to someone, thought Scully, meant that you were as
close to that person as was humanly possible.

She had that kind of relationship with Mulder. Scully had put her life in
Mulder's hands more times than she cared to remember, and he did the same
for her.

Simply put, she and Mulder were soulmates - one soul occupying two
separate, distinct bodies. And last night, they nearly succeeded in merging
their two distinct bodies, Scully remembered with a sweet smile.

Kissing one of the rose petals lightly, she put it back down onto the
pillow. That was when she noticed the note sitting on her nightstand. It
was a piece of paper folded in half. With a growing sense of curiosity,
Scully picked it up and opened it slowly. She began to read the note,
written in Mulder's distinctive scrawl:

"Scully,

Sorry to run out on you like this, but I never got that shower you
promised me last night, so I decided to get cleaned up at home. I think I'd
like to get a few miles of running in, as I need some time to think.

Last night was a few years in coming, I think you'll agree. It was the
single most pleasurable, intense and incredible...event that has ever
happened to me in my entire life.

I love you, Dana. I hope last night will be the beginning of a newer,
strengthened relationship, and not the end of what he had together for the
past five years.

Where do we go from here? Your guess is as good as mine, but as long as
we're together Scully, things will be okay for me. I hope you feel the same
way.

I hate to sound cliched, but I will give you a call later on today. Take
it easy and enjoy your vacation. Life happens fast enough that we don't
need to rush it along.

The rose is another typical affectation - but what can I say? Being in
love with the most wonderful and beautiful woman that ever walked the face
of the earth is new to me (well, not so new, but you know what I mean).
Sometimes the tried-and-true methods are the most effective, Don't you
think?"

Scully paused in reading the letter long enough to smell the fragrant scent
of the rose once again. "Yes, Mulder," she replied to the empty room. "Very
effective." She concentrated on the letter.

"I'll say it again, Dana - as many times as it takes for you to believe
me. I love you. I don't ever want us to be apart again. I'll be here for
you - always.

Talk to you later.

Love,
Fox"

Scully was beaming. It was always easier to say what you felt in a letter
rather than face-to-face. Her smile faded and her face suddenly reddened
with shame when she remembered thinking similar thoughts the night she
decided to quit the FBI. She told Mulder she considered leaving without
telling him to his face. But in the end, Scully knew that wouldn't be fair
to Mulder. She did indeed screw up her courage and she told him she was
leaving the FBI...and him.

<What the hell were you thinking?> she asked herself. After last night,
Scully finally realized how precious the feelings between them really were,
how truly rare and pure their love was. To think that she would have had
the gall to throw all that away without a fight...it made her feel slightly
ill.

And she also realized how fortunate she was that she actually *had* another
chance with Mulder. If he hadn't come looking for her after "they" took
her...she shuddered at the thought of how close to death she had come once
again. Mulder characteristically refused to elaborate about what exactly
had happened after she was stung by that bee, but the haunted look on his
face said it all for her: things had gotten very bad for both of them. She
shuddered violently in the warm bed, chilled by her inability to recall the
events surrounding her latest abduction.

Shaking her head to clear the dark thoughts out of her mind, Scully rolled
out of bed, noting self-consciously that she was completely nude. She
normally didn't bound around her house naked, but after her long overdue
lovemaking session with Mulder, she felt incredibly liberated. Passing the
floor-length mirror mounted on the closet door in the hallway, Scully
paused long enough to examine her petite body - surprisingly none the worse
for wear after all the physical hardships she had to endure - and tried to
visualize how Mulder saw her. The lust in his eyes last night told Scully
that he liked what he saw. Running her hands lightly over her breasts,
stroking them down over the soft flesh of her belly and down to the auburn
curls below...<Oh, yes,> she thought as she remembered Mulder's tender
touches and other pleasurable ministrations.

Before she could get any more involved with her naughty thoughts, Scully
dashed for the bathroom.

<Maybe this morning I'll take a cold shower,> she told herself. <Very
cold.>

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Fox Mulder's Apartment
Alexandria, Virginia
9:15am

Bounding up the stairs toward his apartment, Mulder breathed in deeply
through his nostrils and blew his breath out of his mouth. Reaching his
door, he repeated the breathing, arguably to regulate his heart rate and to
cool himself down after his brisk run.

But he knew the nervousness and edginess he felt was causing him to
practically hyperventilate and had nothing to do with physical exertion.

<Well, exertion due to running anyway,> Mulder thought with a wicked grin.

He fumbled for his keys and managed to open the deadbolt first, then the
doorknob. As he opened the door, he noticed for the first time in years
that the pair of brass numbers mounted on his door was in need of repair.
The number two - part of the "forty-two" signifying his apartment number -
hung precariously on one nail upside down, giving the threshold to his home
a forlorn and neglected appearance.

<Much like it's occupant,> Mulder noted. <Wait,> he corrected himself.
<That's not completely true, at least not anymore,> he amended. Crossing
over into his apartment and shutting the door, he finally allowed himself
to think about the last few hours and all the implications of what had
taken place during that time.

Mulder reflected on his belief that now they had crossed some kind of
intimacy barrier, things had changed between Scully and himself. Was that
true? And if so, how? What would become of their friendship? And of
particular concern to the lanky, dark-haired agent was what would become of
their search for the truth?

Twisting his neck and stretching his arms over his head to loosen kinked
muscles tightened by exercise and stress, Mulder headed over to the kitchen
to fetch a glass of water. He grabbed an available glass from his cupboard
and filled it to the rim from the tap. He drank deeply, gulping the water
so hungrily, he surprised himself. Drops of water spilled over his lips and
landed sloppily on his neck and chest. It was then that he realized he
hadn't had any liquid since last night - and that was the Jack Daniels he
had guzzled at Casey's. Mercifully, the hangover he feared never really
materialized.

<I wonder if Scully had anything to do with that,> he asked himself. As
amazing as their lovemaking was the night before, Mulder wouldn't have been
a bit surprised if it were true.

Remembering last night, Mulder shook his head in wonder. He thought to
himself, <no wonder you're so thirsty, stupid.> He was shocked that he
hadn't recognized his need for water beforehand. But he knew the reason for
it: he had a lot on his mind. He couldn't get *her* out of his head.

<God, Scully,> he thought to himself. <How could I have been so blind? So
stupid and cowardly?> Five years of knowing this sultry and engaging woman
and it took him *this* long to express his true feelings for her?

<What a sap you are, Mulder,> he said to himself - and he meant it.

The "sap" drank a second glass of water, less desperately this time, and he
moved to his refrigerator to look for something to eat. He was certain he
was as hungry as he was thirsty, but the only thing greeting him after
opening the door was a carton of spoiled milk (only by three weeks this
time), and a lonely half-eaten container of Chinese takeout. Mulder
declined to rediscover exactly what it was. <Scully could probably use it
for some kind of bacteria culture the next time she's in the lab,> he joked
to himself.

So instead, he closed the door and ruminated about his next move. That he
would take a shower and change into some acceptable form of casual attire
was a given, but after that, Mulder was uncertain.

<Where do we go from here?> he wondered again. Passing through the foyer
into his sparse living room, Mulder pondered some more. He walked up to his
fish tank and stared at the two goldfish swimming contentedly around
inside. He opened the container of fish flakes sitting atop the tank and
tapped a bit onto the surface of the water. The two of them swam
spastically toward the surface and merrily began to gulp the food down.

The goldfish were a gift from Scully when the previous tenants of the fish
tank bit the big one due to Mulder's absent-mindedness. She had asked him
why he kept them as pets when they traveled so much for work.

Frankly, Mulder remembered thinking, he had no idea why he insisted on pets
in his home. After a moment of reflection, he told her that it was so
sterile and stark (not to mention lonely) in his tiny bachelor's hovel, he
needed something alive in there to inject some kind of vitality into his
depressing abode. He also admitted to her that staring into the tank and
watching the fish swim lazily about had a very calming effect. Sometimes,
he would sit for hours, brooding over some dark, ominous government
conspiracy while zoning out on the methodical plodding of the little
creatures inside that rectangular tank. He told her that it sometimes
helped to take the edge off of the powerful emotions dredged up by their
job. That seemed to interest her at the time, Mulder remembered.

Once, when Scully had come over to pick Mulder up on the way to the airport
to investigate a case in Florida, he caught her sitting on his sofa,
staring raptly at the fish. She hadn't realized he was watching her. He was
standing just around the corner, near the entrance to his bedroom. Her head
was turned away from him, but he could sense serious contemplation
practically radiating from her. That was one moment, added to many others
that caused Mulder to fall in love with Scully. He marveled at her beauty,
but he was also incredibly attracted to her immense intelligence and deep
passions.

One day a few months ago, Mulder had returned home from another long case,
only to discover all of the fish dead and floating belly up in the still
waters of the tank. He had forgotten to dump in one of those hideous
long-term food tablet thingies for the fish to gnaw on while he was away.
Although he had no strong emotional attachment to the fish, he still felt
acutely guilty that his forgetfulness has caused a life - however simple -
to perish.

<I've failed yet again,> Mulder berated himself. <As I've failed everyone
else I've had the pleasure to know.> That night, Mulder unceremoniously
gave the fish the porcelain burial-at-sea, and then wondered what Scully
would think about his aquatic genocide.

When Scully found out what he'd done, she wasn't particularly distressed,
but she seemed a bit sad just the same. A couple of days later, Scully
showed up at Mulder's apartment without warning, bearing a gift.

Back in the here and now, Mulder was staring blankly at the gift - two
common goldfish, one a bright orange and the other white with red spotting.
Their gossamer tails trailed gracefully behind their rounded shimmering
bodies. When Mulder asked her why she had gone through all the trouble, she
replied, "Someone has to keep you company, Mulder. And when I'm not here
for you, these little guys will just have to be a substitute." She tried to
be nonchalant about it, but the underlying tenderness and caring that he
felt from his partner that day touched him deeply. Mulder had realized then
that he was hopelessly in love with Special Agent Dr. Dana Katherine
Scully, M.D. But he never thought he was ever going to be able to bring
himself to tell her so.

He had been wrong.

And as a wide grin spread across his face, Mulder decided that he had never
been so glad to be proven wrong about anything in his whole life.

<This is your chance,> Mulder decided. <Make sure she knows how much better
she is than a couple of goldfish in a tank.>

<That she is,> he thought. <Much, much better.>

He straightened up quickly and made his way to the bathroom for a quick
shower and shave.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

11:21am

Scully was getting restless.

<What if he doesn't call?> she worried. <Great, Mulder's regressed me back
to the tenth grade,> she lamented. At that time, a young, naive,
carrot-topped Dana Scully fretted over Billy Wilder, also wondering why he
never called. She later found out that he never called her after that first
date because Billy had lost a bet with his friends and therefore was forced
to ask "Geeky Dana Scully" out. She had been so thrilled that any boy would
ever consider going out with her - an independent, bookish, bespectacled
and shy girl - that she blindly ignored his constant snide remarks to her
and his deplorable social graces. She realized now that was one event in
her life that had contributed to her issues with intimacy and trust in
adulthood.

Dredging up such painful memories made Scully uncomfortable, and she
briefly blamed Mulder for making her remember. But, after taking a deep
breath and exhaling slowly, she realized he couldn't know about her life
before the FBI, and therefore could not be held responsible for her
discomfort.

Still, as she paced in front of the sofa, wringing her hands in anxiety,
she couldn't help but feel Mulder was raking her over the coals by making
her wait for him.

For what seemed like the hundredth time, Scully picked up the phone and
began to dial Mulder's home number. And then she put it back down...again.

Her stomach rumbled loudly. She hadn't eaten anything all morning. She
couldn't. She was so nervous, she wondered if she would be able to hold
anything down. So instead of risking mortification by throwing up all over
Mulder, Scully decided against food. She heard a louder growl, accompanied
by a distasteful lurch somewhere deep inside.

Scully was about to venture into the kitchen to fuss over what she could
handle in order to quell the groans from her midsection when her phone
rang.

In an instant, she bolted to the table where the phone sat and picked it
up.

"Mulder?" she asked as she pressed the button.

A brief pause followed, where Scully was sure she had embarrassed herself
by speaking so soon. <It's probably AT&T asking if I want to switch
long-distance carriers again,> she thought morosely.

"Scully," Mulder finally spoke. Scully's face lit up like a searchlight. "I
hope you weren't waiting for me on pins-and-needles like you sound like you
were," he said calmly.

She could see the smug grin on his face. "Of course not, Mulder," she lied.
"It's, it's just...no one calls me usually, so who else could it be?" she
stammered, trying to sound casual. <Oh, yeah...remember the tenth grade,
"Geeky Scully?"> she berated herself.

He laughed softly, and after a moment, she found herself returning the
laugh, realizing how silly she was acting. <It's only Mulder...It's only
Mulder,> she tried to remind herself.

"I missed you," she said quietly.

"Waiting to call you was torture," Mulder replied.

"So why did you wait?" she asked without malice.

"I was...busy with something," he said hesitantly.

<What is he up to now?> Scully wondered.

"Have you had anything to eat yet?" he asked, trying to change the subject.

"Yeah...well, no, actually," she said, unable to lie to him. He always knew
when she lied.

"Good," Mulder answered. "I've got something, so I'll come right over."

"Sounds great, Mulder. See you soon," she said sweetly. Her hands had
become sweaty and her face flushed with the anticipation of his arrival.

"Okay," he replied. "Oh, and Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Remember those fish you got for me?" he asked.

"Uh-huh." <Oh, no. He's killed them too?> she thought irritably.

"Well...uh, never mind, Scully. I'll talk to you about it later. Bye." And
that was that.

<He *did* kill them!> she screamed inwardly. Scully pressed the button,
silencing the dial tone.

She looked down at the cordless phone in her hand and smirked at her
exchange with Mulder. Despite the underlying nervousness they both felt,
things had gone quite well, she admitted.

<Perhaps, it won't be so hard after all,> she hoped. <Yeah, right,> she
amended with a grin.

And then she heard a knock on the door.

<That can't be Mulder yet,> she said to herself. Still, she quickly gave
herself the once over: nice white dress shirt (cuffs folded), pleated
khakis, sensible flats. Just a touch of lipstick. Hair brushed. She tested
her breath - it was okay.

<Whoo-boy, Dana,> a voice in her head teased. <You got it bad for Spooky,
aint' ya?>

<No doubts at all,> she answered. The second knock came, louder this time.
She quickly made her way to the door and stretched up to look into the
peephole.

Nothing. There was no one there. Alarms went off in her head. Scully
quickly walked over and reached for her issue Sig-Sauer 9mm pistol which
was lying on her kitchen table, where she had cleaned and serviced it the
night before. She slammed a magazine into the well and drew the slide back,
releasing it to chamber a round.

Holding the bulky semi-auto loosely behind her right thigh, she cautiously
opened the door and peered into the quiet hallway...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

END - "A Study of Light and Dark" 3/5
--
Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net

Subject: NEW- "A Study of Light and Dark" 4/5 - SRA
Date: 9 Aug 1998 06:01:13 GMT
From: "Chad K. Tanaka" <chadt@aloha.net>
Organization: Hawaii OnLine - Honolulu, HI
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 4/5

Author: Chad Tanaka

e-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: R (language, graphic violence)

See part one for complete information.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Again, she saw nothing. She began to think that whoever had knocked had
decided to give up and leave. That was when she realized a presence - at
her feet.

Scully looked down in shock. A tiny golden-brown Pomeranian puppy was
looking up at her with twinkling, innocent eyes. Its small pink tongue
lolled lazily out of its mouth. It fidgeted on its front paws, as if
wondering why the lady in front of it wasn't doing anything to acknowledge
its existence.

Remembering her beloved Queequeg, Scully's heart melted. "Oh, my god!" she
exclaimed. "Are you lost, sweetie?" She bent down in her open doorway and
reached for the furry creature.

Ecstatic that the lady was finally showing some promise, the Pomeranian
leaped into her lap and began licking Scully's face. She laughed giddily
and stroked the puppy's long, soft coat while at the same time trying to
extricate herself from its enthusiastic embrace.

Then, her rational mind took over. Who had knocked on the door? Putting the
dog down, she picked up her Sig and stood warily, looking out at the open
doorway.

"Hello?" she said firmly and authoritatively. She was, after all, still an
FBI agent, she reminded herself.

A brown paper sack appeared in the doorway, attached to a male hand. The
grease-stained bag was emblazoned with a logo from Brothers K, a fast-food
restaurant less than a block from her apartment. A familiar voice spoke
from the hallway, "Don't shoot, G-woman. I bring you gifts."

Releasing a breath she was unaware she was holding, Scully said "Mulder,"
in a relieved voice. She lowered her gun just as Mulder poked his head
around the corner.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this, Scully. You almost killed me last
night, now you wanna shoot me," he joked while wiggling his eyebrows up and
down. "It's enough to give a man a complex."

"How did you get here so fast, Mulder?" she asked.

He simply waved his cellphone at her.

"Oh," she said. <I should have figured that out sooner,> she told herself.

Laying the bag on a table and kicking the door shut with his heel, Mulder
walked into Scully's welcoming embrace.

Now that he was in her arms and she felt Mulder's heat emanating from his
body and she breathed in the smell of his aftershave, Scully wondered why
she had felt nervousness about seeing him again. She should have known that
being with Mulder would be the most natural thing in the world.

"Want a complex, Mulder?" she asked in a sultry purr. "How about I make you
a sex-addict?"

Holding her tight, Mulder bent down and kissed Scully tenderly. He tasted
the minty essence leftover from her mouthwash and breathed in her
powder-fresh scent mixed with the spicy-sweet aroma of her shampoo. He felt
himself harden immediately. <Mmm,> thought Mulder.

"Too late," he murmured in response after breaking the kiss. He flashed her
a toothy grin.

She returned it and ran her palm affectionately along Mulder's clean-shaven
cheek. She felt an insistent scratching on her calf.

"Oh," she said excitedly. "I almost forgot about you little fella," she
said sweetly as she picked up the tiny pooch. After nuzzling the squirming
puppy, she looked at Mulder. "What is this, Mulder?" she asked.

"It's a dog, Scully," he replied neutrally. He put his hands on his hips
and smiled innocently.

"You know what I mean," she warned. "Why?"

"Well," he began to explain. "After last night, I got to thinking, and I
realized how much you cared for me all these years and I remembered all the
nice, loving things you've done for me. And it made me see that I haven't
really returned the sentiment." He sighed loudly, as if he had just
admitted to a terrible secret.

Scully was taken aback. "Mulder, that's not true. You've done a lot for
me," she protested. "After my first abduction...and my last birthday, for
example."

Mulder shook his head. "Superstars of the Superbowls, A sparkling Hostess
Sno-Ball, and an Apollo 11 keychain can't be considered thoughtful exactly,
Scully," he said guiltily. It sounded even more idiotic when he ran them
off out loud, he thought to himself.

Scully gritted her teeth imperceptibly. <He'll never get over this,> she
acknowledged sadly. <He'll always prefer this self-flagellation.> With a
tired sigh of her own, she grasped his hand while carrying the warm
Pomeranian under her other arm.

"I treasure those gifts, Mulder," she explained. "Because they're from
you." She looked down at the puppy, who peered up at her and began licking
its chops. She smiled down at Mulder's latest gift. "Besides, all I
*really* need is you," she finished, looking right up into Mulder's
tortured hazel eyes.

Scully reached around Mulder's neck and drew him to her. She kissed him
slowly and passionately. She drew back and said, "Thank you, Mulder...for
everything."

Rendered speechless, Mulder could only smile and nod. Finally, he looked
down at the furball under Scully's arm and decided to explain himself.

"Remember the fish you got for me, Scully?" he asked.

"Don't tell me, Mulder..." she tried to stop him.

"No, no," he said, realizing what she was thinking. "They're fine." When he
saw Scully relax, he continued.

"Getting them for me really touched me, Scully. I couldn't bring myself to
tell you that at the time, though," he said shyly.

"Why not?" she wanted to know.

"I thought something would slip," he answered. "I was afraid of letting you
know just how much you mean to me and how much I appreciate everything
you've done for me over the years. I just didn't know what was
appropriate," he finished.

"Well, Mulder," she said. "You never have to be afraid anymore."

"I know," was his response. He continued explaining and pointed at the
puppy.

"So, to return the favor, I decided it was time for someone to take dear
old Queequeg's place," he told her. "Just as long as she doesn't replace me
in your heart," he added teasingly.

Scully looked down at the mellowed-out puppy in her arms. "Oh, you're a
girl, are you?" she said. The dog had the presence of mind to belt out a
tiny responding bark. Scully laughed loudly, as did Mulder.

When she looked up again, Mulder thought he detected Scully tearing up.
Secretly, he was glad that he could bring out such powerful emotions from
her. Mulder took satisfaction in the belief that he could recreate just a
little bit of the joy that she filled his heart with everyday. He truly
wanted her to be as happy as she could possibly be, and he would do
anything to make her so.

But as quickly as the tears came, they vanished under the strength of
Scully's self-control. She blinked a few times, and then said "Thank you
again, Fox."

He was beginning to actually like it when she called him that. It was
weird, almost...spooky, he joked to himself.

They hugged each other tightly, liking the fact that they could now express
the affection they felt without having to bottle it up and bury it under a
surface of cool detachment.

It was then they both realized at the same time that was no going back now.
The die had been cast, and they would have to see this relationship to its
logical end. Which end that would be, they didn't know - they didn't want
to know. They would find out together.

They were in love.

And for now, it was more than enough for them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Six Weeks Later...

Astadourian Textiles Warehouse
Baltimore, Maryland
11:21pm

It was dark.

The only sounds came from the monotonous dripping of water somewhere off to
his left.

Mulder held his Sig-Sauer 9mm service pistol up in a two-handed grip and
slowly scanned the area in his field of view. His pistol followed his gaze,
although in the darkness, Mulder could make out very little within the
warehouse he and Scully were presently searching.

Mulder was especially on edge, as he had no idea where his partner was at
the moment. He had no desire to shoot Scully accidentally. He resisted the
urge to call out to her since that would give away his position.

Although Scully would probably deck him if he said so, Mulder wished he
could put his beautiful partner on a pedestal, where no harm would ever
come to her. He knew it was a ridiculous fantasy, considering the job they
both did, but he loved her deeply and didn't want Scully to suffer through
any more hardships than she already had.

Scully had truly suffered in every sense of the word because of him. His
goddamn obsessions with finding the "Truth" had effectively destroyed
Scully's life. He shuddered at the memory of all the times she had been
assaulted, kidnapped and experimented on.

<She was given cancer because of you, for Christ's sake,> he berated
himself.

Mulder paused in the darkness.

For although they were now more than just partners, and he had tried to
express his deep love for her in many ways, Mulder still felt that he would
never be able to make it up to her - to undo all the pain that still
lingered within her. <Even love can't fix everything,> he thought sadly.

He would never be able to change the worst thing of all.

She would never be able to bear children. She would never be able to bear
*his* children. They would never know the special bond that comes from the
creation of something so unique: a child - a physical manifestation of
their love for each other. Mulder lamented the fact that he would never
hold a tiny little version of Scully in his arms or see himself reflected
in the cries of his own son.

And it was all because of him. Because of her undying love and loyalty to a
half-crazed obsessive-compulsive with a badge and a gun, Dana Scully's life
was ruined. He was actually surprised that she remained sane after all the
shit she'd been through.

<Well, she *was* sane most of the time, anyway,> he mused.

With Mulder around, it sometimes came down to "Folie a deux" - a madness
shared by two.

Mulder didn't know what to do. He loved her so much sometimes, it
physically hurt. He respected her enough to keep working with her as a
partner, but a part of him wanted Scully as far away from the X-Files as
possible.

Although Mulder would never have met Scully if it were not for the X-Files,
he knew that it would eventually kill one or both of them if they kept on
their present course.

But he would never be able to stop. Not until he found out what happened to
Samantha, and not until the threat of alien colonization was stopped. And
as dangerous as these goals might prove to be, Scully had vowed to be there
with him, every step of the way.

Mulder sighed softly in the murky blackness.

A faint metallic scraping sound came from Mulder's right. Drawing himself
from his brooding, distracting thoughts, Mulder crouched lower and
stealthily moved in between two large packing crates to advance on the
point where he heard the noise.

<Please, Scully,> he pleaded silently. <Don't make any foolish moves.>
Mulder realized that Scully rarely behaved in any manner which could be
construed as foolish, but he worried for her just the same.

They had cornered the suspect, a thirty-six-year-old male employed by the
Department of Defense. Mulder had uncovered evidence that this man was
directly involved with several missing persons cases over the past three
months. The evidence also hinted that these "abductions" were directly
linked to the shadow government conspiracy that the two agents had been
chasing after for almost six years.

Mulder and Scully had followed the DOD operative to a large warehouse in an
industrial complex in the heart of Baltimore. Intending to tail the suspect
and gather evidence concerning the man's modus operendi, they instead had
the misfortune of being spotted. Needless to say, a chase ensued and ended
up with the two of them inside the dark warehouse, trying to catch the
slippery suspect.

The man had taken several potshots at them at the start of the pursuit, so
they knew he was armed and dangerous. Once inside, they decided to split
up, in an attempt to flush the man out in a pincer movement.

It was pretty risky, but Mulder wasn't one for conventional behavior in the
daily course of his workday. That Scully - a fount of discretion and
level-headedness - deigned to follow him blindly into these situations
never failed to amaze him.

<She trusts you, Mulder,> a voice in his head said. <Why?> he asked. Mulder
shook his head slowly in the shadows.

<They say talking to yourself is okay, but when you start answering
yourself, that's when you start worrying,> he thought.

<So what else is new, Mulder?>

<She'll get really hurt one of these days,> he told himself. <So hurt that
you'll never be able to piece her back together again.>

He began debating whether or not they should just forget about this.
Although the investigation was legitimate, it was getting too risky and he
couldn't take it anymore. Mulder knew his concern over Scully's safety was
beginning to interfere with his ability to investigate cases effectively,
but after saving Scully from certain death in Antarctica, he came to the
conclusion that he just didn't care anymore.

Mulder had decided when all was said and done, Scully was worth more to him
than "The Truth."

He was simply in love with her. If anything happened to Scully, Mulder
wasn't sure if he'd be able to go on - either with the X-Files or living,
for that matter. Mulder had the nagging feeling that life would not be
worth suffering through without her in the world.

With his mind made up, Mulder decided to take some of the risk upon himself
- to draw some of the potential danger away from Scully. He stood up from
where he was crouching and began to yell.

"Scully!" he bellowed, the sound bouncing off corrugated steel and creating
a resounding echo. "Don't say anything. Just hold your position until I can
get to you." He waited once he finished, hoping that Scully would not
answer. Mulder breathed a sigh of relief after he got no response.

Now as long as the suspect keeps his cool, Mulder reasoned, he could find
Scully and ge-

WHOOMP!

Mulder heard the sound of the hollow steel pipe slicing through the air
before he felt the crushing blow to his chest. Mulder felt like a bus had
just hit him. As he dropped his pistol and sank to the ground, he realized
that he might have been *too* successful in drawing attention away from his
partner. He heard the clatter of the pipe being dropped on the concrete
floor.

"OOOF!" Mulder felt the air rushing from his lungs and the blinding pain as
his assailant landed a vicious kick to his side. His vision was beginning
to darken, much more than the relative blackness within the warehouse. He
knew he was losing consciousness, but he could still hear a voice calling
to him faintly:

"Mulder!"

It was Scully.

"No," groaned Mulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Mulder saw the looming
shape before him draw a weapon. His attacker raised his arm out toward
Mulder's left, obviously getting a bead on Scully.

<NO!> Mulder screamed in his head, as he could not catch his breath to yell
a warning to her. Instead, gathering every ounce of strength he had left,
Mulder drew back both legs and thrust outward with all of his might.

CRACK!

Mulder connected with the side of the man's left knee. Since a human's knee
joints were not designed to bend sideways, Mulder succeeded in breaking the
man's leg.

With a wail of pain, the man collapsed on his left side. Mulder could
actually see the man's eyes glittering with agony and rage in the
near-dark.

And then Mulder realized, too late, what a foolish move his attack was on
an armed man. The DOD operative turned his pistol towards Mulder. It was as
if Mulder was watching a movie in slow motion. He could see into the barrel
of the gun, the gaping hole was darker than anything else in the room.
Mulder could still hear Scully calling, but he couldn't answer. His mouth
was paralyzed in a moment of contemplation. Mulder knew he couldn't move
fast enough to avoid the gunfire, and so he spent his last moments
regretting that he would be leaving Scully behind again.

<Dying on her will be the ultimate ditch,> he thought sardonically.

Mulder's last coherent thought was: <I love you, Scully. I'm so sorry.>

BLAM! BLAM!

Special Agent Dana Scully was frantically sprinting around boxes and
crates, desperately searching and calling for her partner.

<Goddamn it Mulder,> she cursed inwardly. <Why did you have to open your
big mouth?> She had a vague idea of where Mulder's voice had come from, but
with the echoes, she couldn't pinpoint his location exactly. Then she heard
the brief scuffle, and then a scream of pain. Panic threatened to overtake
her, but she resisted and moved quickly to the source of the noise.

When she heard the shots, Scully's blood ran cold. <That didn't sound like
a Sig,> she thought. Pushing the fear aside, she homed in on the direction
of the shots.

She was nearly on top of them when she reached her destination. Scully made
out a nebulous shape rising from behind a crate. Following procedure, she
adopted a two-handed modified Weaver stance and braced her pistol against
the box she stood behind.

"FBI! Don't move!" she screamed. Her fear and panic was bubbling to the
surface, and it was all she could do to not lose control of the situation.

And to her dismay, the shape turned and pointed in an obvious manner.
Scully ducked down as several rounds zinged overhead and splintered the top
of the wooden box.

Without conscious effort, Scully rose up, weapon ready. She acquired the
target who was bolting away from her at surprising speed, considering he
was obviously injured. She tried to line up her sights on the limping,
retreating form. But in the darkness, she realized that it was a losing
proposition.

"Stop!" she bellowed.

The shape kept on running.

Since Bureau rules stated that no fleeing suspect could be shot in the back
unless the direct safety of the agent in question or innocent civilians or
other law enforcement personnel were in immediate jeopardy, Scully let the
suspect go. She wouldn't take off after him until she found Mulder. She
heard a squeaky door at the far end of the warehouse open quickly and saw a
small rectangle of gray appear and disappear just as rapidly.

But Scully's attention was now turned towards the floor on her right. She
thought she made out a shape there too. Pointing her pistol at the shape,
she spoke softly, "Mulder?"

No answer.

She took a step closer - and nearly slipped. There was moisture on the
floor, and before she could identify the source, a realization dawned upon
her.

"Oh, no," she breathed. "Mulder!"

Ignoring the blood on the ground, she got down on her hands and knees. She
let her pistol drop loudly to the floor, and frantically scratched at her
coat to retrieve the flashlight that Mulder insisted they refrain from
using in the confines of the warehouse, lest they give away their
locations.

Turning on the beam to wide coverage, she passed it over the immobile form
under her. Scully felt herself go white with shock.

<Oh, god. No. No.> She looked down at an unconscious and profusely bleeding
Mulder.

"Mulder!" She yelled. "Can you hear me?" She cradled his head under one
hand. She placed the fingers of her other on his carotid artery, searching
for a pulse. She was relieved to find one, although it was faint and
thready. Allowing her medical training to take over, she immediately moved
her gaze to his wounds. Stuffing the compact flashlight into her mouth,
Scully tore at Mulder's ruined dress shirt. Although Scully had been
through an E.R. residency and had seen nearly every kind of physical injury
known, she had to resist gagging at what she saw.

Mulder had taken two close-range gunshots to the abdomen. One of the shots
penetrated just below his left ribcage, while the other was situated in the
lower abdomen, just to the right of his navel. The gaping dark holes were
bleeding heavily. Scully knew her first order of business was to stop the
bleeding, or his blood pressure would drop to dangerous levels.

Now holding the light in the crook of her neck, Scully quickly removed her
coat and tore at her blouse sleeve. She was thankful that she decided to
wear a cotton one today instead of the silk ones that she loved - as cotton
would prove to be more absorbent. She again tore at the sleeve until she
had two pieces. She immediately pressed one to each of the two wounds and
applied pressure. This elicited a strained groan from Mulder. His eyelids
fluttered and he turned a glazed stare toward her.

"Scully..." he said weakly. He coughed loudly in the quiet of the
warehouse.

"Mulder," was all she could manage. "You've gotta help me out here," she
continued. When she saw him going under again, she bellowed, "MULDER!" His
eyes snapped open. "Put your hands here...and here." She grabbed his hands
and placed them over the wounds. "Hold it down hard, Mulder." When she was
satisfied he was obeying the best he could, she murmured reassuringly to
him "Mulder, I'm going to get you out of this, but you have to work with
me. Hold your hands there, I'm going to reach under you to see if there's
any exit wounds." He made no signs that he heard or understood. <Shit,> she
cursed. <He's slipping into shock.>

Knowing she had little time, she reached under Mulder's lower back. The
lower abdomen wound had no exit hole, but the upper left one did. She could
feel the warm flow pumping over her palm. Desperate, she thrust her left
index finger into the hole to staunch the bleeding. Not surprisingly, this
drew a painful grunt from Mulder. She grimaced, nearly unable to bear the
obvious agony her partner was experiencing.

Without much else she was able to do, she reached over to her coat and
pulled out her cellphone. She dialed 911 one-handed and waited for an
answer.

"911," a tired female voice said.

"This is Special Agent Dana Scully with the FBI," she replied. "I have
shots fired and an agent down with multiple gunshot wounds. I need an EMT
at 1013 West Tisbury Avenue. We're in the Astadourian Textiles Warehouse."

After a brief pause, the now alert woman said, "Understood. An ambulance is
on it's way, ten minutes ETA, Agent Scully."

"Hurry!" Scully exclaimed before disconnecting the call. She had no idea
where the nearest hospital was. She hoped that Mulder still had ten minutes
left in him until the ambulance arrived.

<Oh, god.> The seriousness of the situation was hitting her hard now.

"Mulder," she spoke soothingly in his ear. "Please stay with me. Don't
leave me..." She didn't know what else to say. In the faint glow of her
flashlight, Scully took in the horror she was trying to distance herself
from. She was covered in blood...Mulder's blood, she realized. Her hands
and arms were deep red up to her elbows. Her legs were drenched in a thin
pool of sticky, rapidly cooling blood.

There was so much blood. After fighting a wave of nausea and panic, Scully
finally broke down and began to sob uncontrollably. She feared this much
blood loss meant that Mulder was too far gone to survive. Holding one arm
over the wounds on top and keeping the finger of the other hand firmly in
Mulder's exit wound, Scully tried to compose herself, but when she looked
at Mulder's deathly pale face, she knew that it was over.

"S-Scul...Scully." Mulder's voice was faint.

Scully looked up quickly. The wetness in her eyes blurred her view.

"Mulder," she whispered. "Don't talk, just stay still. You'll be okay.
Don't give up on me." She knew that she was babbling, but she didn't know
what else to do. She cursed the helplessness of their situation.

<You're a fucking medical doctor, and what can you do for the man you love?
Not a goddamn thing!> Scully shut her eyes tightly, wishing they had never
set foot into the warehouse tonight. Shaking her head at her useless
thoughts, she raised up her head and gritted her teeth.

"Mulder, don't you die on me!" she said loudly. "I love you! You can't go
and leave me now. We were just getting started." She looked desperately
into Mulder's eyes.

And despite the fact that he was seriously wounded and was lapsing into
shock, Mulder turned an unfocused look in Scully's direction -

And he smiled for her.

Scully let out a hysterical bark of laughter. She felt her tenuous grip on
sanity slipping away.

<I can't live without him.> She admitted to herself. <I won't.>

A wet cough snapped her attention back to Mulder. In the feeble beam of her
flashlight, Scully witnessed another horror. The stomach wound was even
more serious than she thought, as Mulder was now coughing up blood. It was
dripping freely down his chin.

Amazingly, Scully's body was on autopilot. Years of training, however
rusty, told her to reach for his head and turn it to the side, to allow the
blood to drain, lest he choke on it.

<Where's that damn ambulance?> her mind screamed. She frantically looked
around in the dark, hoping she would hear or see something.

"Mulder?" she said, looking back down.

Nothing. He had fallen unconscious again. <Maybe that's just as well,> she
thought. She leaned over and tenderly kissed a pale, cold cheek.

And the tears fell again.

<Please God,> she pleaded. <Don't take him yet. Please.>

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

END - "A Study of Light and Dark" 4/5
--
Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net

Subject: NEW- "A Study of Light and Dark" 5/5 - SRA
Date: 9 Aug 1998 06:02:24 GMT
From: "Chad K. Tanaka" <chadt@aloha.net>
Organization: Hawaii OnLine - Honolulu, HI
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative

Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 5/5

Author: Chad Tanaka

e-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: R (language)

See part one for complete information.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Finally, she could hear the faint sounds of a siren. It was getting louder.
Scully brightened at the ray of hope that blossomed in her heart.

"Mulder? The ambulance is here. Hold on for a little while longer, okay?"
She prayed that he would answer, but was not surprised when he failed to
respond.

The next few minutes occurred as if it were happening in slow motion - as
if she were underwater. Scully noted the white-uniformed Paramedics heading
toward her with a stretcher. She was only faintly aware of one of them
gently pulling her away from Mulder. Scully was even able to mutter a
description of the injuries to one of them, although it seemed as if it
were someone else speaking for her. She watched as the two men placed an
oxygen mask over Mulder's face and began to dress the wounds with proper
compresses. They quickly lifted Mulder onto the stretcher and wheeled him
outside. Without another thought, Scully trailed after them.

Speeding away in the ambulance, Scully recognized the vital stats one of
the techs rattled off to the other as they checked for pupil dilation and
took blood pressure readings.

It didn't look good. He was unresponsive and his pressure was dangerously
low. As they administered an I.V., Scully had a ridiculous flashback -
although in retrospect, she suspected she was subconsciously trying to
remember her dying partner in happier times:

It was in a lobby - the Dallas Federal Building. The two had just finished
another round of their familiar bantering, with Scully accusing Mulder of
panicking. She smiled at the memory. "That isn't the face I make when I
panic," he had said. "This is the face I make when I panic." Naturally, it
was his normal poker-face that he adopted for nearly everything.

Looking at Mulder's face now, she wondered if he indeed had his "panic
face" on. She certainly felt it would be appropriate at this moment.

Scully drifted back again to the same memory. It had been hot. Mulder had
graciously agreed to buy her a drink. As embarrassing as it was to admit
it, he was being so uncharacteristically sweet and considerate, it was all
she could do not to jump into his arms and kiss him silly. His dry humor
was in full swing: "Coke? Pepsi? Saline I.V.?" he had joked.

Scully's vision focused on the present, her gaze falling upon the I.V. bag
attached to the same man that she had spent the better part of six years
with. She had been through the meat grinder with him before. She had
thought him dead many times. But now, here, it was all too real. She could
see him slipping away.

<No. You can't die on me Mulder,> her mind pleaded with the frail, unmoving
creature she almost couldn't recognize as her tall, strong...lovable
partner.

Scully belatedly noted the loud beeping coming from the EKG unit next to
Mulder. His pulse was weak - had it gotten weaker since they first
administered aid to him? She didn't know.

She hoped-

And then she heard the sound she had heard so many times in her stint as a
resident. Flatline.

"Mulder!" She screamed. <This is not happening,> she told herself. She
launched herself at him, in an a blind attempt at resuscitating him. One of
the techs put out an arm to hold her back.

"Whoa," he said firmly. "Ma'am, let us take care of this!"

"I'm a doctor!" she retorted.

"Okay, but we know what we're doing, doc," he answered sympathetically.
"We're doing all we can."

He turned to his companion. "He's crashing, going into V-fib," he stated
matter-of-factly. The other tech said nothing, instead he immediately began
CPR on Mulder.

The shrill, consistent tone of the EKG told Scully that it wasn't working.
She slumped back into the bench seat and covered her face with her hands.
She noticed her hands were sticking to her face. <What?> she wondered. She
pulled them away and looked at them...

They were bloody - with Mulder's blood.

Scully let out a strangled cry of anguish.

"This isn't working," she heard one say.

"Get the paddles," the other replied.

"Charging...ready!"

"Clear!"

The sound of electricity coursing through her partner's lifeless body
reached Scully's ears.

<NO!> It couldn't be happening. She wouldn't let it. With a rising, boiling
anger fueled by frustration and fear, she began to yell at Mulder.

"Dammit, Mulder," she scolded him. "Don't you die on me! Do you hear me?
This. Is. Not. Happening!" she screamed loudly.

"Again," the tech told his partner, undaunted by the ranting of the petite
redhead crouching next to him.

"Charging...ready!" was the reply.

"Clear!"

And again, Mulder was shocked. The voltage shot through his heart, willing
it through physics and chemistry to...

Contract.

Beat.

Pump.

Again.

And again.

"I've got a rhythm!" A voice cried out. The beeping of the EKG resumed.

And so, Mulder was not dead. Not yet. Not now.

A smile, unlike any that had crossed Dana Scully's face in all of her
thirty-four years, crept up on her and spread like a blossoming flower.

<Mulder...I love you,> she declared to him silently.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was dark.

<Where am I?> he wondered.

The last thing he remembered was...what?

Pain. Blinding pain. He remembered sensations like burning fire through his
gut.

<I was shot!> he exclaimed in his mind.

His eyes flew open. There was white light, he realized - a blinding light
above him.

<I'm dead,> he surmised. <The ultimate X-File,> he thought humorously.

A shadow crossed over his face. He squinted at the shape forming above.

It was a face - a female face. He noticed it floating there in front of
him. The face was studying him curiously - as if searching for something.
The face was familiar to him...she was beautiful.

<But then again,> he concluded, <all angels are.>

This angel had short, auburn hair. It wasn't flaming red, but it wasn't
brown either.

She had an exquisite, flawless face. Her skin was milky white. Her aquiline
nose and broad chin were strong, yet very attractive, he noted. Her lips
were full and the upper one had an appealing cupid's bow curve to it.

But what struck him the most was her eyes. They were gorgeous. As he looked
into those big, deep blue eyes, he decided that he could spend eternity
staring into those limpid sapphire pools. Maybe this angel *would* let him
spend the afterlife staring at her, he mused.

He smiled. <She really does look familiar,> he thought. <She looks just
like...like...>

"Scully?" He croaked out.

"Mulder?" the angel replied.

Boom.

Reality hit him like a boulder. He was not dead. This wasn't Heaven.

He was alive. And Scully was here.

Scully. His Scully. <Oh good, I guess I *didn't* ditch her,> he thought
with a gleam in his eye.

He smiled for her. And with happy tears brimming in her eyes, she returned
the smile.

"We thought we'd lost you for awhile there," she said calmly. But Mulder
could hear the relief and joy in her voice, just the same.

"Scully," he whispered with the glint still in his eye. "You couldn't get
rid of me that easily."

And without warning, Scully leaned over and hugged Mulder around the neck
tightly, as if afraid that at any moment, he would vanish into thin air.

"Ugh...uh, Scully," he said in a strained and choked voice. "I can't
breathe."

She drew back as if burned. "Oh, I'm sorry," she replied apologetically.

This elicited a soft laugh from Mulder, which was probably a mistake.

Gunshot wounds to the abdomen did not lend themselves to comfortable
laughter.

Naturally, Mulder winced and regretted his actions. Sucking in a pained
breath, he relaxed in the bed, until the red-hot pokers in his stomach
relented in their agonizing prodding.

"Aggh," he choked out.

Scully laid a comforting hand over his injuries. "Mulder," she said
soothingly. "Try to relax. The doctors still have you under some pretty
heavy painkillers. It's probably wearing off - otherwise you would still be
unconscious."

"What happened?" he asked. He thought he could piece it together well
enough, but he still wanted to hear it from Scully. He trusted her to tell
him the whole truth.

"Well," she began. "That DOD operative attacked you. You lost your weapon,
and he ended up putting two rounds into your abdomen."

He stared at her warily. He could feel his panic face coming. "How bad?" he
asked.

Scully sighed heavily. "It could have been much worse, Mulder," she
replied. "I think we can be thankful that you're still here with us. You
lost a lot of blood, and it was touch-and-go there for a while."

She stood from the chair she was sitting on next to Mulder and began to
pace.

"Round number one damaged some of your large intestine and narrowly missed
your liver. Round two perforated the lining of your stomach and exited out
of your lower back. If it had passed an inch or so to your right side, it
would have severed your spinal column." She stopped pacing and locked her
gaze with Mulder's.

"You're a very lucky man, Mulder," was all she said.

"Really?" he replied. "I never knew having your guts rearranged by a couple
of bullets qualified as a good thing, Scully." He knew his sardonic humor
wasn't in his best interests at the moment, but...

<Old habits die hard,> he admitted.

She crossed her arms and her expression changed into that hard, admonishing
stare that he knew so well.

<That's the Scully I know and love,> he thought to himself.

"Mulder," she said exasperatedly. "You know what I mean." Then her features
softened and her arms dropped to her sides. Mulder saw the fear that she
must have felt, and he immediately felt guilty about baiting her. He really
was lucky, he did admit that.

"I, I thought I'd lost you - again," she whispered. "But this time Mulder,
It was harder than all the rest. This time...it was different." Mulder knew
what she was getting at, and he nodded sympathetically for her.

And then Mulder saw the tears she had valiantly tried to hold back falling
down her smooth, porcelain cheeks. He just wanted to hold her and make all
the pain go away.

<Well,> he thought. <What's stopping you?> Knowing what he had to do,
Mulder held out his arms to his partner and lover.

"I'm here Scully. It's okay."

It was if a dam had broken or a rope had snapped. Sobbing heavily, Scully
rushed into Mulder's waiting arms, all the while trying to avoid hurting
him by disturbing his injuries.

"I, I thought you were r-really going to l-leave me this time, and I didn't
know h-how I was going to go on," she choked out between her sobs. Mulder
felt the warm wetness on his cheek and neck. It was a comforting feeling,
one that made him very glad to be alive.

And in that instant, Mulder realized that he had been given many chances to
really show Scully how much she meant to him, and that he probably wouldn't
be given too many more. He decided that he wasn't going to push it any
longer.

He had to ask her. There was only one way to ensure her safety. Only one
way he could keep searching for Samantha and have a modicum of safety for
the one person he loved more than life itself.

Was he being selfish? Was it fair to Scully to ask her to give up so much?
Mulder wasn't sure, but it was the only way.

He lifted his arm. It felt as if there were lead weights attached to it. He
tenderly placed his hand on her head and began to stroke her hair. Mulder
ignored the intensifying pain in his lower body. He would have time for
more sedatives later. But right now...

"Hey, Scully?" he whispered nervously.

"Yeah?" came a muffled reply, somewhere near Mulder's neck.

"Um, I've gotta ask you something," he continued.

He felt Scully stiffen. But to her credit, she recovered sufficiently
enough to raise her head and look Mulder in the eyes. The tears were drying
up, and she swiped quickly at the remaining wetness on her face with a free
hand.

"What is it Mulder?" she asked, warily.

<Now or never, Mulder,> he told himself.

"Scully...will you marry me?" he blurted out. He waited for her reaction,
sure he would be disappointed.

But instead of receiving scorn or confusion, she surprised him with a wide,
joyous grin. He had never seen Scully so happy. He returned the grin
despite his apprehension.

"Oh, Mulder," she said as she laid her head back down on his chest. "I
would be honored to be your wife..."

"But?" he asked her. He could tell by her tone that she had reservations.

"But, no one even knows about us, Mulder," she answered in a rational tone.
"How would it look to - say, Skinner - if we just came right out and got
married?" Scully raised her head hesitantly, afraid that she was being
unreasonable as well as ungrateful towards Mulder's wonderful proposal.

"Who cares what anyone thinks?" Mulder answered truthfully. He knew she
would feel this way. But he was prepared to make her see that he loved her
too much to back away now. "Do you love me?" he asked.

"Yes...more than you probably know, Mulder," she answered without
hesitation.

Mulder grinned. "And I love you more than life itself, Scully," he said.
"That's why I want to be with you forever, as...a man and wife."

Scully's smile faded, and she looked down at Mulder's chest. "But, Mulder,"
she whispered tremulously. "I'm damaged goods...I'll never be able to give
you any children," she managed to choke out.

Mulder cupped her face with his palms. "That's not why I want to marry you,
Scully," he told her. He pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the
lips. "I just want us to be more than 'Mr. and Mrs. Spooky' -
laughingstocks of the FBI."

The faint smile returned and she began to stroke Mulder's hair tenderly.
Midway through one stroke, she stopped and looked into his eyes. Scully
frowned slightly and said, "You realize if we take this as far as marriage,
we won't be able to work together anymore."

Mulder held his breath. <Okay, here we go,> he grimaced inwardly.

"Yes," was all he said.

"So?" she asked. "What are we going to do? One of us will have to leave,
and if we can't work on the X-Files together, you know we can't go on."
Scully took a deep breath and continued.

"You yourself said that you didn't think you could go on if I wasn't there
for you," she said softly. "It would be the same for me if you left."

Mulder knew what his next words would bring, but he felt compelled to voice
them regardless.

"If...if it meant that you would be safe, Scully. I think I might be able
to stay with the X-Files," he said hesitantly. He looked into the storm of
thoughts and emotions swirling within her radiant blue eyes and prepared
himself for the coming onslaught.

She pushed herself away from Mulder as quickly as she could without causing
him any more discomfort. She crossed her arms over her chest as she loomed
over the prone form of her partner on the bed.

"Goddamn you Mulder," she hissed. "Is that what this is all about? You want
me out of harm's way?" She took to pacing around the small room once again.

She whirled on him, her eyes flashing with anger. "You were the one who got
shot and nearly died, you bastard!" Scully spit the words out venomously.
Mulder tried to stifle the now constant pangs of guilt pushing at him from
all sides in addition to the throbbing pain in his gut.

"That's why I'm asking this of you, Scully!" Mulder was trying to explain
himself without seeming as self-centered as he knew he would appear to be.
"I love you too much. I, I can't...I won't see you here in my place again,
Scully. You've already been through too much."

Furious now, Scully gripped the frame at the foot of Mulder's bed. Her
knuckles began turning white. "You fucking asshole," she spit out. "I went
into this with both eyes open, Mulder. You are not responsible for anything
that happened to me, do you understand?" When she got no response, she
yelled, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, MULDER?"

Grudgingly, Mulder nodded. The pain in his midsection was becoming
increasingly unbearable, but he wanted to settle this with Scully for good,
and damned if he was going to stop now. He gritted his teeth and focused on
the argument at hand.

"So is this what your marriage proposal means, Mulder?" she went on. "Some
bullshit attempt at having your cake and eat it too?" When she saw the look
in his eyes - as if he were giving up on everything he held dear in his
life - Scully's anger subsided and her features softened. She walked
alongside him again and lovingly grasped his hand.

"Look Mulder," she said finally. "I know you're doing this because you love
me. And I love you too much to keep you from finding the truth." Mulder
nodded slightly, so Scully went on. "But, I need the truth too, and I won't
stand by idly waiting for you to find it. *I* need to be there too. I need
to be there to help you nail their asses to the wall when the time comes."
She said as she smiled for him.

And eventually, Mulder returned it.

"And if we ever do get married, Mulder," she said in a soothing voice, "I
want it to be for the right reasons, don't you?" Mulder nodded in
agreement.

"I'm sorry, Scully," he said guiltily. "I really do want to be married with
you...someday."

To show that she forgave Mulder and his severely misguided attempt at
chivalry, she planted a soft kiss on his forehead.

"After what I've seen in my life Scully, I'm not afraid of anything, but I
sure am scared of you," Mulder said with his patented lopsided grin.

"No you're not, Mulder," she replied. "But you should be," she added.

Scully leaned over and whispered into Mulder's ear, "I love you very much,
Mulder. But you're not going to get rid of me that easily." She moved her
face until she was gazing into the windows of his soul - Mulder's eyes were
never good at hiding the inner turmoil or elation he felt, Scully thought
to herself. She indeed saw in Mulder the confusion that she herself felt
for her partner - wanting nothing more than to truly become one with him,
while at the same time trying to hold him at arm's length to keep him away
from the danger that seemed to follow the two of them wherever they
journeyed.

She recognized every feeling, every emotion she had ever experienced over
Mulder being mirrored within the beautiful hazel orbs staring back at her.
Scully touched her lips to his, giving him a tender, loving kiss, to show
him she did understand. The kiss was also meant as a peace offering - an
offer of a temporary cease-fire from this basic disagreement that was sure
to come up again in the future. Mulder returned Scully's gesture.

The battle was over...for now.

And Scully again felt joy, knowing that Mulder was recovering and was safe.

She straightened up and ran her warm palm over Mulder's stubbly cheek.

"Get some rest Mulder," she whispered lovingly. Mulder turned his head and
kissed the inside of her hand. He closed his eyes and grimaced slightly.

Turning away and heading towards the door, she said, "I'll get someone in
here to give you something for the pain."

"Wait!" Mulder hissed through clenched teeth.

She whirled around, concerned. "What is it, Mulder?" she breathed.

"Are, are you leaving me?" he said in a childlike voice. Through the pain
etched on his face, Scully could see the lost boy in Mulder, afraid of his
mortality - the horror borne of the realization of how close he had come to
being separated from the one he truly loved forever.

<No. Never.> She vowed.

"No, Mulder," she spoke softly to him. "I'm just going home to get cleaned
up. I'll be back later, okay?"

With a slightly relieved grin, he replied, "I'll just pencil you in
somewhere in my day-planner."

And despite the contentious nature of their most recent argument, Scully
found herself laughing at Mulder's pathetic, but still very endearing stab
at humor.

<That's my Mulder,> she thought to herself. <Wouldn't have him any other
way.>

Smiling at him sweetly, Scully turned to the door and let herself out.

Staring at the closing door and already missing her, Mulder laid back down
on the bed and gave in to the incredible pain.

And still, he smiled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

One month later...

Fox Mulder's Apartment
9:15am

The sounds of a key turning in a lock surprised Mulder. He was just leaving
the kitchen with a cool glass of iced tea in his hand when the front door
opened.

"Oh!" came a startled exclamation from Scully. "I thought you'd still be
sleeping," she explained.

"Hi," she said as she quickly regained her composure and entered the
apartment. She closed the door quietly behind her.

"Hi, yourself," Mulder replied throatily for her. He put down the drink and
then scooped her swiftly into his arms and gave her a slow, deep kiss.

"Mmmm," he moaned into her mouth.

Giggling softly, she extricated herself from Mulder's clutches. "Well,
Mulder," she said coyly. "I guess you're doing better, huh?"

<Is that a mischievous twinkle I see in her eyes?> he wondered.

"Scully," he said to her in his most serious tone. "I'm practically
bursting at the seams. You've got to help a guy out here!" Mulder gave her
his best wounded puppy look.

On any other day, that might have worked, Scully thought to herself, but...

<Oh, who the hell are you kidding, Dana?> she admitted. <It works *all* the
time.>

But she wouldn't let Mulder know that, she decided. Not yet.

"After nearly six years of celibacy, Mulder, now you're anxious only after
a month?" She tried to hold back the smile she felt creeping up on her.

Mulder was now getting an inkling of what was transpiring. <Two can play at
that game,> he said to himself.

"Well, you did ask me if I wanted to become a sex addict once, Scully," he
answered playfully. "I'm just going through withdrawal symptoms." He
wiggled his eyebrows at her.

As much as she didn't want to admit it, she too wanted Mulder very badly.
<God, if only he knew how many times I've stood in the shower or been in my
bed and touched...> She blushed violently just thinking about it and she
thought her heart would leap out of her chest. Feeling light-headed, she
leaned into Mulder for support.

"Scully?" Mulder said, with a look of concern on his face. "What's wrong?"
When she looked down in embarrassment, he misunderstood.

"I'm sorry, Scully. I know I shouldn't make light of it, what we have
together is very special." He searched for words to make it right, but he
knew he would just be sticking his foot further into his mouth.

<So what else is new, Mulder?> He shook his head in frustration.

She looked up into his eyes. The ever-present pain was there again. Scully
wished she could just wipe her hands over those tortured eyes and make all
the hurt disappear. But she knew she never could.

<Because that's part of who he is,> she realized. She reached up and cupped
one cheek in her tiny palm.

"You don't understand, Mulder. It's not you. I'm the one who has been
weak," she explained. "You've been so good. You never complained before
today, and here I am acting as if I never had a sexual impulse in my life."

"Hey," he said with a smile. "It's not your fault, Scully. We both know I
needed time to heal. You've been strong for me when I would have done
something stupid." He reached down and held her hands in his. He squeezed
them affectionately. Mulder decided it was time to change the subject.

"Ever since I've been back on real food, I'm always hungry," he said to her
with a wide grin on his face. "What do you say we fix ourselves some brunch
and then take it slowly from there?"

Scully returned the smile and reached up to give him a quick peck on the
cheek. "I love you, Mulder," she said to him.

"Ah, well. You aren't really all that bad yourself, you know," came his
reply. He looked down to check on her reaction.

<That's the Scully I know and love,> he thought to himself as she rolled
her eyes at him - again.

Laughing at her predictable reaction, Mulder bent over for another kiss.
Murmuring into her mouth, he said, "I love you too, Scully."

Pushing thoughts of alien invasions, mutants and government conspiracies
aside, the two agents walked hand in hand into Mulder's kitchen. Their only
concern for the moment centered around what they were going to eat for
brunch. Thoughts of mortal danger and marriage would have to wait until
later.

For they were in love.

And in the end, that was all that really mattered.

FADE TO BLACK

THE END

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

And yet another Mulder/Scully romance is complete. The morphology of this
particular story is unique, compared to my previous ones. As you can tell
by reading it, this story is actually a fusion of two seperate stories. The
first part, up to the scene of the delivery of Queequeg II, was concieved
as a snapshot of everyday life for the agents - dealing more with how they
deal with normal, real emotions far removed from the sweeping drama of the
mytharc and MOTW within the television series. What it lacked in plot was
(I hope) made up by the general light-hearted tone of the romance as it
played out.

Part two, starting from the warehouse scene, practically flowed from my
brain after seeing the motion picture "Saving Private Ryan." This very
harrowing, very graphic portrayal of World War II, made me feel humility
and respect for life after realizing how tragic and shocking it is to die a
violent death. The movie affected me very deeply, and infused me with a
feeling of darkness that I feel I had to express through writing.

And an interesting merging came about when I decided to combine the two
unrelated stories. The (mostly) fun and light tone of the first part was
the flip side of the dark second half that was started a few weeks after
the first. They complement each other, and give (me, at least) an insight
of how joy and sadness, love and terror can co-exist and enhance the effect
of the other.

Sorry these notes are so long (and so seemingly self-ingulgent - yuck!). As
always, nothing gives me as much pleasure as your feedback. If you enjoyed
this story, drop me a line at chadt@aloha.net

Thanks for reading, and if you can bring yourself to go, see Saving Private
Ryan!
--
Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net