Title: A Study of Light and Dark 1/5 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. she mused. she admitted. She turned her head towards the glowing display of her bedside alarm clock. 2:44am. Scully berated herself. 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. she concluded. 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. she told herself. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. she thought with an ironic smile. Mulder was nothing if not predictable 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. 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. 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. 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. 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 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. he thought. He downed another finger of Jack Daniels and grimaced at the irony of the situation. he assured himself. 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. 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. he despaired in his alcohol-hazed mind. 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. 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. 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. thought Mulder. 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 -- Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 2/5 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. she admonished herself. 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. he thought to himself. 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." 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. a thought invaded her mind. 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. decided Mulder, Well, Mulder figured, who could blame her, really? thought Mulder with a wince. he reprimanded himself. 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." 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. Scully mused. 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. she thought, 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. he decided. 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. 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. 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. 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 -- Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 3/5 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. 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. 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. The thought jumped into her mind, unbidden. 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. 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... 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. she told herself. 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. 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. Mulder noted. he corrected himself. 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. 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, 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. he thought to himself. Five years of knowing this sultry and engaging woman and it took him *this* long to express his true feelings for her? 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. 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. 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. Mulder berated himself. 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. Mulder decided. he thought. He straightened up quickly and made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower and shave. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX 11:21am Scully was getting restless. she worried. 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. 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. she berated herself. He laughed softly, and after a moment, she found herself returning the laugh, realizing how silly she was acting. 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. 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." she thought irritably. "Well...uh, never mind, Scully. I'll talk to you about it later. Bye." And that was that. 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. she hoped. she amended with a grin. And then she heard a knock on the door. 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. a voice in her head teased. 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 -- Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 4/5 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. 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. 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. she acknowledged sadly. 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. 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. 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. 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. he pleaded silently. 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. a voice in his head said. he asked. Mulder shook his head slowly in the shadows. he thought. he told himself. 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. 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. he thought sardonically. Mulder's last coherent thought was: BLAM! BLAM! Special Agent Dana Scully was frantically sprinting around boxes and crates, desperately searching and calling for her partner. she cursed inwardly. 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. 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. 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. she cursed. 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. 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. 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. She admitted to herself. 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. 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. she thought. She leaned over and tenderly kissed a pale, cold cheek. And the tears fell again. she pleaded. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX END - "A Study of Light and Dark" 4/5 -- Title: "A Study of Light and Dark" 5/5 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. she declared to him silently. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX It was dark. he wondered. The last thing he remembered was...what? Pain. Blinding pain. He remembered sensations like burning fire through his gut. he exclaimed in his mind. His eyes flew open. There was white light, he realized - a blinding light above him. he surmised. 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. he concluded, 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. he thought. "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. 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... he admitted. She crossed her arms and her expression changed into that hard, admonishing stare that he knew so well. 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. he thought. 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. 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. 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. 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. she thought to herself. 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?" 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... she admitted. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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