From: Elsie Date: Sun, 08 Jul 2001 23:39:30 GMT Subject: NEW: Awake (1/1) Source: atxc TITLE: Awake AUTHOR: Elsie RATING: PG CATEGORY: V DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere FEEDBACK: Yes, please. elsiel@telusplanet.net SPOILERS: all things SUMMARY: Why didn't Scully stay the night? ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Many thanks to my beta reader Georgia for advice and encouragement. DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. No infringement is intended. You awaken for the first time in his bed with goosebumps. You are sleeping on your left side, something foreign to your body's usual comfort. You open your eyes to confirm what your mind suspects. You are in Mulder's bedroom. You slowly roll over, careful not to disturb the tranquility of your partner's sleep. You are not surprised to find him far away from your own body. He is lying on his back, dead to the world. He has pulled the covers away from your body, then retreated, taking more than his fair share back to his side of the bed. You take it in stride, knowing that both of you haven't had to share a bed with another person in quite some time. Oh my God, you think, I'm in Mulder's bed! Inside your mind, you are ecstatic. You try to wrap your brain around the idea of being somewhere you weren't sure you'd ever end up. Control is lost and you let yourself revel in the joy you feel. You smile to yourself as your hands find a corner of the comforter and pull it back over your body. You turn back on your side, away from him, and close your eyes. You awaken for the second time in the night with the realization that you are about to fall off the bed. You follow your first instinct to pull back and away from the edge of the bed, but realize that you can not move back even an inch. He is right behind you, blocking any movement towards the middle of the bed. Sometime between the last time you woke up and now, he moved over the center line and onto your side of the bed. The happiness that surrounded you after your first awakening is gone. This time, there was no gradual consciousness; your body was forced into sudden alertness to prevent you from a fall. And with this abrupt awakening, your brain is spinning madly. What have you done? Have you ruined your relationship with this man? Are you sure you're on the right path? You realize that you are nervous about Mulder's proximity. It reminds you of what you have started. Maybe if you hadn't parted, in sated exhaustion, you wouldn't feel so awkward now. Would you be spooned together, your head on his chest, his hand on your hip? You wish your brain would stop churning. You gently shove, but his breathing remains deep and even. You sigh quietly. He is so close to you that you can't even turn on your back. You resign yourself to getting comfortable where you are. You rearrange your pillow, which you thankfully still have, straighten the covers, and try to keep your curled knees on the mattress. You close your eyes. Less than ten minutes later, you give up. Although you wouldn't call yourself a light sleeper, you have always been able to sleep through a lot of noise. Getting to sleep has never been a problem, so it is incredibly frustrating to suddenly be so aware of everything. The wind is whistling through the small crack of window Mulder left open earlier. It sounds like a storm is brewing. Mulder's breathing seems thunderously loud; maybe that's because he's so damn close to you. You have always liked your space. Mulder wasn't the first person to invade it, but he was the first you let stay there. You expected at least to get it back in suspended consciousness, mothmen and Antarctic cold notwithstanding. You can feel the blood rushing through your veins angrily. You try to calm yourself by replaying the night's earlier images. You remember his surprise, then eagerness. You try to recall how it felt to have his hands on your body, but all you can feel is the length of his body, trapping you between the edge of the mattress and the rest of the big bed. The wind has gotten louder. You let twenty seconds go by before you realize that you will never get back to sleep with your brain working so hard to ignore the whistling. In a slowed-down huff, you throw the blankets back and let your legs slide to the carpet. You're naked, but it's dark and you're too annoyed to be self-conscious right now. You walk to the other side of the bed and directly to the open window, slamming it without care. The noise hasn't woken him up. It figures. You stay by the window for a moment, looking through the open blinds at the insane way the leaves are fluttering, as if they are dancing on the tree branches. You know that you are beyond tired. You almost close the blinds, as you would at your own apartment, before remembering where you are. You trudge back to your "side" of the bed, if it can even be called that, since you're sure it is smaller than half of the twin bed you shared with your sister at Aunt Lizzie's in the summer of '74. As you recall, Melissa wasn't very good at sharing either. You notice your jacket on the floor beside the bed. You pick it up and shake out any wrinkles that might have developed then place it on the end of the bed. You get into bed again, noting with relief that he has inched over the slightest bit. You lie on your back and pull the covers up enough to cover your breasts. You cross your arms over your stomach, but it doesn't feel right. You move your hands to your sides, but it feels awkward. Once again, you move onto your left side, clasping your hands together in front of you as if in prayer. With the window closed, it is now too hot for covers. But you are uncomfortable with the thought of being so exposed in the morning. You need to stop thinking about the morning or you will never get back to sleep. You pull the covers to your waist only. You close your eyes and pray for sleep. You are almost asleep when you feel him moving. You turn onto your back and exhale loudly. Will I ever fall asleep, you think, directed to no one in particular? Mulder mutters something you can't quite catch and you inwardly groan. If he starts talking in his sleep, you will get out of bed, go get your gun from your purse in the living room, come back, and shoot him. Fortunately for him, no other words reach your ears. You're about to turn back onto your left side when two things happen. First, Mulder rolls onto his stomach, his head almost touching your pillow. Second, almost immediately, you feel a strange weight on your hip. You freeze, your heart stopping momentarily at the new sensation. God, has it been that long? The tension recedes as realization dawns. Mulder has thrown his right arm around you. You are ready to laugh out loud. You can't believe you stiffened at the touch of his arm when last night the four-limbed embrace you held him in wasn't close enough for you. His arm is warm. In fact, the muscular limb radiates heat. You can feel the fire pressing against the thin sheet covering you. You bring your right arm down and place your hand lightly over his forearm, keeping him there. Your smile stays on your face after you close your eyes. "Ow!" You awaken for the third time in pain. Mulder has elbowed you in the lower back. Your first instinct is to turn around and yell at him, but you find that his bent arm is now right behind you, preventing you from rolling back. You imagine the snake on your back uncoiling and hissing at him. You wonder if you'll have a bruise tomorrow--or today, since it must be early morning now. You open your mouth and close it before the first syllable of his name escapes out. You'd wake him up, but consciousness would mean awareness, and awareness would mean that he'd want to talk. And you're not sure that's what you want, if that's what you're ready for just yet. In fact, you're pretty sure that's not what you want. Damn him for being such a good lover but such a bad bedmate! You lean back and let his elbow torture you. You almost welcome the pain. It reminds you to feel guilty. You were the one who woke him from the sleep of the dead, well, jet- lagged anyway, with your epiphany. He'd barely mumbled your name before you confessed, "I want you." You'd stolen his slumber and attacked his body--even if it had been in passion, it had definitely been an attack. How can you berate him now on his sleeping style when you're the one invading his bed? What does it say about you that you're willing to share intimate details of your life with this man but not willing to let him steal the covers once in a while or spread out on his own bed? You are able to compromise aren't you? You wonder if things would be the same if the two of you were in your bed. Would he be so possessive of the sheets? Or would he, being the guest, display the utmost courtesy? You wonder what time it is. You vaguely remember taking off your watch sometime before the pantyhose last night. Who knows where it is now, probably under the bed? It feels like you've only slept two hours so far tonight. You already know you're not going to be a joy to be around tomorrow. A debate is happening inside your head. If you stay, you'll get to see Mulder in the morning, but you will have to talk to him. You don't know if you will be able to fall back asleep. If you get out of the bed, you might be able to avoid a discussion about your feelings in the morning, but it may hurt Mulder. Knowledge that there will be no interrogation come daylight will definitely help you sleep. Not to mention, it was your destiny waking you up on his couch, but three of his actions that woke you up while in his bed tonight. Three strikes and you're out, you think. Can he change? You may not be sure of how you feel right now, but you do know that you want to be in the same bed with him again. Will there be a next time? Sure, you'll work on those pesky sleeping habits. This was right, you assure yourself. Your anxiety and doubts fade as decisions float in front of you. You come to the conclusion that you need to leave this bed if you want to get any more sleep. You think about the cold, cramped couch in the living room. You think about your own soft, spacious bed, waiting for you at home. It is not a hard decision. It is with relief that you get out of this bed for the second time in the early morning. THE END Comments are welcome at elsiel@telusplanet.net