From: gnrgirl@hotmail.com
Date: Tue, 07 Aug 2001 01:39:44 -0000
Subject: xfc: NEW : Angels Alone 1/2
Source: xfc

TITLE : Angels Alone (1/2)

AUTHOR : Mickey

FEEDBACK : Well, if after reading, you want to see more, send me some 
feedback and I'll see what I can do about finishing the second half 
(the NC-17 part). gnrgirl@hotmail.com

DISCLAIMER : Characters portrayed herein belong to CC, 1013, Fox, 
yadda, yadda, yadda . . . The poem belongs to Richard Lovelace.

RATING : PG-13 

ARCHIVE : Gossamer and Ephemeral, yep. At my site - 
http://www.geocities.com/alia1028 . Everyone else - bag it, tag it, 
tell me where it is.

CATEGORY : MSR, angst, UST/RST

SPOILERS : Orison

SUMMARY : Mulder comforts Scully after her second encounter with 
Donnie Pfaster

Notes at the end.

XXXXXXX
Part One
XXXXXXX
Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above
Enjoy such liberty. 
- Richard Lovelace, To Althea from Prison, iv.
XXXXXXX

He will never forget the look in her eyes as she pulled the trigger. 

She was dead, there was no emotion in those eyes. No trace of the 
humanity he so easily recognized in her. No light. She just pulled 
that trigger and watched the man fall to the floor. 

He didn't blame her one bit. 

The police questioned her. Was she sure there was no alternative? Did 
she need to see a doctor? Could they please have her gun for 
forensics? Did she have somewhere to stay?

The answer to the last, where she'd stay, would have brought a smile 
to his lips in less troubled times. No hesitation, she simply shook 
her head no, she had a place to go. Then, standing, she'd asked him 
to help her pack.

So he would take her to his apartment  He asked her if she wanted to 
call her mother, she didn't. And though he knew Maggie would 
certainly chastize him for not telling her, he'd bundled Scully up, 
put her in the car, and drove silently all the way.

He led her inside, half carrying her, unlocking his door deftly with 
one hand. He'd put her in his bed, pulled her shoes and jacket off as 
she lay catatonic, and tucked her beneath the sheets. He brushed a 
concerned hand over her hair, feeling as she'd taught him, for any 
signs of shock.

"If you need anything, Scully, I'll be right here." He whispered, 
hoping she heard. His reassurances were met with silence.

He didn't even try to sleep, there was no point. Sure, he could have 
lain awake on the couch for a few hours, but it would do no good. No 
matter what he did, worry would force him to his feet and take him to 
her bedside. So, with a practicality that would make his partner 
proud, he sat vigil by her bed, watching her sleep. 

Fleetingly, he thought that perhaps watching her wasn't such a good 
idea. Her tormented slumber brought forth self-recriminating 
ruminations. Ones along the lines of "I should have been there 
sooner", "I should have gone home with her, it wouldn't have taken 
that much time", and "I should have made sure she was alone". But 
instead of following that nagging sensation in the pit of his 
stomach, he went home, miles away. And while he was calmly brushing 
his teeth, Scully was locked, gagged in her closet. The subtle marks 
he'd glimpsed at her wrists and ankles more than attested to that.

He should have been there.

When she calmed enough that he didn't have to worry she'd hurt 
herself, he went to the kitchen to make coffee. Strong coffee. Black 
coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

"Mulder!" The strangled cry brought him darting from the kitchen just 
as he flicked the power on to the machine. "Mulder!"

He arrived on scene to find her trashing more violently than before. 
He was well familiar with the type of dream she was having, her 
demons, this time, were very much akin to his own. He knew what it 
was like to see his nightmares come to life; he knew all too well 
that which would plague her sleep for weeks. 

He slipped into the bed with nary a second thought, wrapping his arms 
around her trembling body, whispering in her ear.

"I'm here." Was all he could think of, all he repeated. Gradually, 
gratefully, she calmed and settled into his embrace. 

Sometime around dawn, sky just turning gray, he fell asleep too.

XXXXXX

Afternoon sunlight, beamed in between the slats of the blinds, woke 
her.

Disorientation fought against her unconcious sense of safety, 
heightened when she didn't immediately recognize her whereabouts. 
Common sense would have normally clued her in much sooner, but she 
wasn't functioning normally by any means.  Flashes of memory shot 
through her mind, but her mind explained them away as nocturnal 
emissions.

There was a man, discustingly familiar . . . her closet . . . the 
sound of water being drawn  . . . the acrid scent of sulfur . . . 
gunshots . . .

She started from her memories when she realized her head was pillowed 
on someone's chest; a very male chest. A glimpse up at his face, 
another look at her surroundings, she put two and two together, and 
sighed in relief. She settled back down on his chest, relishing the 
warmth her partner gave off.

He stirred a few minutes later as if sensing her wakefulness.

"Scully?" he asked, not really expecting an answer but pleasantly 
surprised when she spoke.

"How long?" she didn't move, content to stay close to him. 

"Just since we left your place yesterday." He left the obvious 
description of the events unspoken, not wanting to risk her falling 
back into the trance-like state she'd been in before. As always, 
sleep had done wonders for her system, letting her recover a portion, 
however small, of her sanity. 

"Thanks." Her hand found its way up to one broad shoulder. "I 
couldn't . . . I wouldn't have . . ." She didn't know how to express 
her thanks. Talking with Mulder was had never been the easiest thing.

"It's okay." He put his plam over hers, caressing the back of it with 
the pad of his thumb. "I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

They lay like that, in silence for a long time. Eventually, she 
shifted away from him, laying herself out flat beside him. Neither of 
them could think of what to say, neither of them wanted to break the 
hush that came with their waking. He didn't touch her for the longest 
time, afraid of her reaction. Finally, mind made up, he reached out 
to hold her hand in his. And when she jerked away, a reflex leftover 
from her dreams and the horrid events of the day before, he felt it 
in his heart even if he knew she didn't mean it.

It was a reflex, pure and simple, but when Scully looked up at him in 
apology, there was real hurt in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, slipping from her side, the bed, the room.

"Stop." she whispered in protest, too late for him to hear. Shakily, 
she pulled herself out of the bed. She found him in the kitchen, 
dumping the coffee from a pot that smelled a bit scorched. The irony 
of the situation was not lost on her, even now. Somehow, no matter 
what she was going through, she was the strong one. Once again, she 
was the one comforting her partner when she was the one that truly 
needed the comfort. 

"Mulder?" She asked hesitantly, reaching out for him. "I'm sorry. I 
didn't mean to . . ."

He shrugged her away, dismissing her with more violence than he'd 
intended. "No reason to apologize. I should have thought before I 
touched you. Especially after . . ."

Scully moved next to where he stood leaning on the counter, both arms 
stiff. She took a deep breath, trying to work up the nerve to start.

"Mulder, what happened just now was a reflex. It had nothing to do 
with you. I'm just a little . . . on edge right now." She said, 
before adding, softer, "I'm sorry."

"No . . ." It was a moan in his throat, barely audible. He turned, 
mouth hanging agape, wanting to speak, needing to speak, to at least 
try and allay her fears, but nothing came out. So instead he pulled 
her into his arms, resting his chin atop her sleep mused hair. 

"Don't be sorry. I overreacted." He muttered, swaying a little. He 
all too easily forgot that she was the one in pain here. He forgot 
what a jerk he could be at times, what the price was for putting such 
a distance between himself and the rest of the world. 

She shook her head against his shirt, knowing he felt the movement. A 
sudden thought dawned in her mind. She lifted her head, looked up at 
him, earnestness in her gaze.

"I just need you to know that I appreciate what you're doing for me, 
Mulder. For letting me stay here."

He laughed a little at this, internally. As if he could ever refuse 
her, in anything. 

"You ready to call your mother yet?"

She tensed in his arms, he could feel her pushing away mentally, if 
not physically.  "No, I, uh . . . I can't face her yet. She worries 
enough about me as it is. Please?"

"Yeah. I understand. You can stay here as long as you need." He 
hugged her tighter, as if holding her close could somehow erase the 
memories. "I'm sorry this happened, Scully. So very sorry." He 
pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. 

"Not your fault."

They could argue like this forever. But now was no time for them to 
fight over who should have done what. All the 'shoulda, coulda, 
woulda' in the world means very little after the fact. They both knew 
this. Coming to a silent agreement, a byproduct of their time 
together, Mulder continued in another vein.

"Maybe you should get back in bed." He took a step back, reluctantly 
letting go. "I'll make some tea."

"That would be nice." She smiled timidly, so unlike her normal grin, 
glad he let the subject drop.

He guided her gently back to the bedroom, fluffed the pillow, and 
helped her settle back beneath the covers. 

"Back in a flash." He smiled at her with what he hoped was 
tenderness, and went to make her tea.

XXXXXXX

TITLE : Angels Alone 2/2
AUTHOR : Mickey
FEEDBACK : gnrgirl@hotmail.com

XXXXXXX
Part Two
XXXXXXX

Stone walls do not a prison make,
Nor iron bars a cage;
Minds innocent and quiet take
That for an hermitage;
If I have freedom in my love,
And in my soul am free,
Angels alone that soar above
Enjoy such liberty. 
- Richard Lovelace, To Althea from Prison, iv.

XXXXXXX

Not five minutes passed when he returned with a steaming mug.

"None for you?" she asked, a smile on her lips as she took the first 
sip. "Perfect." She nodded her thanks.

"You know me. More of a coffee guy." He stood back from her though, 
keenly aware of her presence in the room. The top two buttons of her 
shirt were undone, a fact that had gone previously unnoticed by him, 
and was giving him a very revealing look down her shirt. 

When she was asleep it had been easy to ignore the fact that she was 
in his bed, in his arms. When she was quivering from fear, it had 
been easy to think of her as his friend, his partner. But now, the 
proximity was almost too much to bear. She was awake, she wasn't 
afraid anymore, or at the very least, was hiding her fear now. She 
was all too coherant, everything was well on its way back to 
normality, despite the fact that she was laying half naked in his 
bed. All of this hit him in one vicious swipe, heading straight from 
his brain to down below his belt. 

He drove down the urges growing in him with a pained frown. The last 
thing she needed was yet another crazed lunatic trying to get in her 
pants. Thankfully, she missed his expression, too busy staring off 
into space, oblivious to Mulder's discomfort. He fought the sudden 
and ridiculous urge to shift from foot to foot. 

"Mulder?" she began after a long silence, turning her gaze to the 
swirling depths of her tea.

"Yeah?" The monosyllabic response was beginning to wear on his 
nerves, but he could find no substitute that didn't make him sound 
like a jerk. 'What?' just didn't cut it when they weren't neck deep 
in files.

"Do you think . . ." She paused, releasing a deep breath and taking 
another. She started over, changing what she was going to ask to the 
declarative. "I killed a man." 

Then a single tear, wet and glistening, stole down her face.It was 
his undoing. Urges be damned, he found himself once more cradling a 
trembling Scully in his arms. He put his own desires out of his mind, 
this was neither the time nor the place for anything like that.

"He wasn't anyone's version of a man, Scully." He could feel the 
front of his shirt dampen as her tears came unabashedly from her 
eyes. It was good, the psychologist in him knew, that she was crying 
now. That she was actively and conciously exorcising her demons. It 
would do no good for her to bottle her fears up inside. It could only 
hurt her if she tried to bury yet another traumatic experience. 

"He's still dead." She clutched at the gray fabric of his t-shirt.

He brought his palm up, holding her head gently to his chest. "He 
wasn't a man, Scully. You told me that. He was evil."

"That doesn't change anything . . ."

"It changes everything, Scully.." He murmured against her forehead.

"How, Mulder? How can it change anything? I'm a doctor, I'm supposed 
to give life, not take it . . ."

"If you hadn't killed him, I would have." He didn't know what else to 
say, didn't know how to word it. And when he felt her stiffening in 
his embrace, for a fraction of a second he feared that he'd pushed 
her away, that he'd embarassed her into silence. That she would run 
from him now. He said too much, he shouldn't have . . .

She lifted her head up, bringing her face so close that he felt her 
breath on his cheek. "You would have?" Her voice cracked.

"I was so close, Scully. If I'd known then the full details of what 
he did to you . . ." he trailed off, letting his eyes speak for his 
emotions in a gesture all too common to the pair. He swallowed, 
adam's apple bobbing once, twice in his throat as he tried to get rid 
of the lump forming there. 

"And if he was what you say, what happens if . . . if he comes back?" 
She sounded so much like a child in that moment, a plaintive note in 
her voice and posture that begged him to offer reassurance. A child 
that, in her innocence, wanted someone to tell her that the monsters 
of the world could be beat back, destroyed.

"If he comes back," He stressed the first word. "I'll be there to 
stop him." She smiled then, tears still streaming down her face, 
highlighting the touch of mirth that entered the blue orbs.

"You'll be there to protect me, Mulder?" She paused, smile turning 
ruefull. "Sometimes I wonder who really does the protecting."

He didn't return the grin, choosing instead to keep his next words 
solemn. "I think we saved each other, Scully." He ran his fingers 
gently over her cheek.

In that moment, something changed inside her. Like a key turning in a 
rusty lock, her heart opened to new possibilities. Suddenly, 
everything made sense. All his banter, his innuendo, his joking 
confessions of love . . . When coupled with his actions now, she 
realized that he really did feel that way. It hadn't been the drugs 
talking, or delerium. It was him, his voice, saying in a stupor what 
he never had the courage to say sober. And with that realization came 
her own. 

Without hesitation, she shifted in his arms and brought her mouth to 
his. And for a split second, when his breath was still gone, he 
returned the kiss. Returned it without thought of what he was doing. 
Returned it, forgetting that she was his partner, that she was his 
best friend. Forgetting that he shouldn't be doing this now, that it 
wasn't fair to her. Forgetting everything except the press of her 
lips against his.

And just as suddenly as it began, he pushed her away.

"No, Scully. It wouldn't be right."

"Why?"  Her inhibitions, her fears, were cast aside in the her 
fatigue. She twined her arms around his neck, refusing to let her 
advances be ignored that easily. She wanted this . . . no, she needed 
this. She wanted to feel real again.

"Because," he said, trying to extricate himself before she found out 
that his body and his mouth were saying two very different things. 
Cold-heartedly in a last ditch effort, he said, "I don't do comfort 
fucking."

She let go then, sitting back as if stung. A thousand thoughts raced 
through her mind, the least of which couldn't believe he'd said that 
to her. Said it to her like he really believed that's all her kiss 
meant. That all she wanted was . . . Maybe her 'realizations' were 
nothing more than wishful thinking. Her mouth gaped for a moment 
before she realized it was open and snapped it shut. 

Then, determination on her face, "I'll call my mother to let her know 
to expect me." She kicked her feet over the edge of the bed, grabbing 
the phone, dialing furiously. In a saner time, this juncture never 
would have been reached. She never would have kissed him like that. 
She never would have let him hold her like that. Hell, she never 
would have let him take her to his home, not feeling as vulnerable as 
she did. 

He pushed the black plastic button on the reciever, disconnecting her 
call before she could finish dialing.

"Scully, please don't go." He hadn't meant to push her into running. 
He just reacted, scared.

She stood, whirling at him, her voice no longer calm. "Mulder, I 
don't want to inconvienience you any longer." She flipped away the 
hand he'd placed on her shoulder, dialing again.

1 . . . 4 . . . 1 . . . 0 . . .

"Scully, wait . . ." He hit the reciever again, this time grabbing 
both of her shoulders and forcing her to face him. But now that he 
had her attention, he found that he didn't know what to say.

"What, Mulder?" She was enraged now, more out of embarassment than 
anything else. "I don't want anymore of your excuses! I'm tired of 
them! We always dance around the subject, never getting anywhere and 
I'm sick of pretending that there isn't anything between us! Our self 
delusions are the last thing I need right now!"

Her voice lowered, deadly serious. "And if you can't realize that I 
wouldn't turn to you for just a simple 'fuck', then I don't need to 
be here."

"Damnit, Scully, just let me try to explain . . ." He lowered his 
voice a notch, releasing her from his grasp. He was hurting her, in 
more ways than one. "All I meant to say was that I value your 
friendship too much to let anything like this get in the way. I don't 
want you to turn away from me because I took advantage of you . . ."

"Take advantage of me?" She scofffed. Her demeanor softened a little 
at this relevation, but not enough that she didn't tear into him 
again. "You really think that I'd let you take advantage of me in the 
first place? That I'd allow anyone to do anything to me that I didn't 
want?"

He stopped then, dumbstruck, and just stared at her. He shook his 
head. He didn't know what to say to that. He knew everything she said 
was true, understood that she would never let anyone do that to her. 
But that understanding was in his heart. His mind told him to shove 
her away, his mind made him throw curses at her face, trying to hurt 
her. His mind was telling him that if he got close to her now, she 
would leave him, just like everyone else in his life. 

She moved back to him, her rage banished by the chagrin apparent in 
Mulder's slouched frame. "Should have expected it, coming from you." 
She touched a hand to his face, trying to give him comfort.

"God, Scully. I'm sorry." He forced himself to look in her eyes, 
hoping somehow that she didn't see the lust that he knew was in his 
eyes.  "But it still wouldn't be right. I . . . I . . . I love you 
more than a one night stand."Both of them knew he was trying to 
convince himself more than her. Both of them heard the uncertainty 
coupled with raw hunger. He continued, desperate, pleading. "I can't 
do this and keep pretending that nothing happens between us. I can't 
be alone again."

She reached up to him, taking his place as the one doing the 
comforting. "Oh, Mulder. Don't you know? You haven't been alone since 
the day I walked into that basement seven years ago." She once more 
pressed her lips to his, this time more gently.

"I couldn't go back either." She whispered as she broke the 
embrace. "Mulder, I need this. I need . . . " She licked her lips. "I 
need you, Mulder. I need to feel alive again, like a person. 
Pfaster . . . he tried to take that from me. And right now, you're 
the only one who can give me back my humanity." She took his face in 
her palms, forcing him to look at her. "Make love to me, Mulder."

He stopped moving, stopped breathing even. Could she possibly know 
how long he'd waited to hear those words from her? How they had 
plagued his dreams for years? Tears glistened now in his own eyes, 
echoing her own. "Scully, I . . ."

She shook her head, "Don't speak." 

They came together smoothly, lips touching with a sweet sincerity 
rarely seen in the world. She moaned against his mouth, just as eager 
as he was. And still he moved slowly, expecting Scully to change her 
mind at any minute. 

Then she tugged the hem of his shirt up, pulling the garment from his 
body. She slid into his lap, straddling him . She moved her mouth to 
his neck, gently sucking as she pushed him onto his back. Despite all 
her protestations to the contrary, her actions were influenced by her 
ordeal. She needed to be in control here, needed to place her mark on 
him.

She unbuttoned her shirt, letting it drop off her shoulders and 
following shortly with the lacy slip of a bra she wore. Mulder 
watched her movements above him with heavy lidded eyes, more than 
happy to let her do whatever she wanted. This was all he ever wanted 
and, selfish as he was, he'd take her anyway he could get her.

"Scully?" He started, but she silenced him, a finger to his lips in 
the universal motion to keep his mouth shut and just enjoy the 
sensations. She replaced that finger with her lips, kissing him 
deeply, letting her tongue explore his mouth with all the frustration 
she'd felt for years.

He clutched at her, desperate. He slid his hands down to the waist 
band of her pants, tugging playfully at them. She smiled, glad that 
he could still enjoy this if it wasn't on his terms. She quickly rid 
herself of the offending materials, wanting to touch him, to envelop 
him.

She flattened herself against him, relishing the feel of his skin 
next to hers, the hairs on his chest teasing at her softer body. 
Finally, she reached down to the top of his sweats and began pushing 
them down.

He stopped her with his hand, bringing her eyes to his. "Are you 
sure? You don't have to do this.

She stopped him with a kiss. "I know." She said simply.

Then, all talk was lost to the moment. 

They were naked against one another in the next heartbeat, hands and 
mouths skimming over the others body as if trying to memorize. She 
rose over him, brought her body down on him, taking his hot length 
deep within her.

Instinctively, he knew she needed this, the feeling of control she 
got by her percieved domination of his actions. His mind knew that he 
could wrest control from her, if he really wished it, as undoubtedly 
she did too. But it didn't matter. Donnie Pfaster existed only as a 
ghost between them now, despite the ounce of control he was measuring 
over them now. This was between them, it would have happened sooner 
or later and the events of the day before served only as a catalyst.

And if he couldn't deny that she needed to have some measure of 
control, neither could he deny that he didn't need to lay claim to 
her body. Just as she needed to feel loved in the basest sense now, 
he needed to know that she was okay, that she was really here.

She writhed atop him, straining for a release that hung just over the 
horizon. She could feel it coming, sensed its impending arrival, and 
moved faster, more urgently to meet the coming dawn. She could feel 
him moving within her, relished the sensations he was creating at her 
core. Tremors started inside her, overpowering all concious thought. 
She could feel him too, losing the last ounce of his control, letting 
himself go inside her. And as the soul shattering quakes ripped 
almost simultaneously through their bodies, the spectre of the madman 
was left in the past. He could no longer hurt them. They were free.

She collapsed, slack against his body, still connected to his body in 
the most ancient sense. It was a good feeling, something that felt so 
perfect, so right. 

"I meant what I said, you know." She murmured as the sweet afterglow 
of their lovemaking washed over her.   "You're never alone."

"I know."  He held the hand she pressed to his cheek. "I know."

She closed her eyes, not wanting to talk. Recriminations, 
explainations could wait for another day. For now, it was enough that 
she felt whole again, it was enough that she still had her safe 
harbor in the storm that was their world. Through it all, he was 
there for her, and would always be. He was her freedom.

And nothing else mattered.

XXXXXXX


Loved it? Want to strangle me with the cord that connects my keyboard 
to my computer? Tell me! gnrgirl@hotmail.com