From: Melissa Rabey Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: REPOST-Be Alone With You 1/1-REVISED Date: 20 Nov 1995 02:56:57 GMT Okay, I'm reposting this because I've rewritten the scene between Scully and Adams, and made a few minor changes. I'm sorry to have to do this, but when you read the whole series, you'll understand why I just had to change this scene. Comments and flames a plenty can be sent to me at dettiot@udel.edu. Disclaimer: Since Chris Carter owns Mulder, Scully, and the X-Files, I'll admit that I'm stealing them to get attention. No copyright infringement is intended. Be Alone With You By Melissa(dettiot@udel.edu) Friday evening, 8:47 pm For some reason, Dana Scully had been very testy lately. Any little thing seemed to bother her . .. . annoy her enough to scream or curse. She didn't understand: work had been going fine-mostly paperwork on a few old cases. she thought to herself. Although she loved her job, usually it was a major source of frustration. Curled up on her sofa, Dana thought about her recent actions. In this week alone, she had managed to get into fights with both Mulder and her mother; she had gotten an additional charge on a speeding ticket for yelling at the arresting officer; and she had cursed more drivers just this week than she had in all the years she had been driving. For some reason, she was uptight and angry all the time. she thought to herself. She had already ruled out work, since paperwork was so brain-numbing that usually she was more passive than aggressive. Yet there was something that was causing her to lose her temper all the time-to be angry at everything. Sinking further into the sofa cushions, her mind turned to Mulder. She hadn't seen much of him lately: in a move that still surprised her, Fox Mulder had decided to get a life. It had begun with him cutting back on his hours. No longer did he go into the office on weekends, and he left and arrived at the same time as she did during the week. He had started dating, casually at first, but within the last three weeks, he had become seriously involved with an agent in Behavioral Sciences, Agent Melinda Adams. Dana didn't know her too well: of course, Mulder had introduced them, but still, that wasn't the automatic beginnings of a life-long friendship. From what she had heard, Agent Adams was tough and smart: a tall blonde with killer marksmanship, it was whispered that she literally could kill a man with her bare hands. Despite her youth, Melinda Adams was on the fast track. Dana sighed. While she had never been one to play the field, she hadn't had a date in months. Until recently, that hadn't bothered her all that much; she figured that with work, starting a relationship wasn't necessarily possible. Yet, she realized, she minded now. She was mad that it was a Friday night and she was home, while all her friends-well, Mulder, at least-were out. She muttered, "It's like high school all over again." With another sigh, she stretched out on the couch and picked up the TV remote. she thought grumpily. Monday 9:07 am J. Edgar Hoover Building Dana stormed through the door of the small basement office that housed the X-Files. Flopping down at her desk, she angrily jabbed the buttons to turn on her computer and desk lamp. Her bad mood had not dissipated over the weekend. If anything, she was madder now than she have ever been-and that included the time in college when her boyfriend had gotten her drunk at a party, only to dump her halfway through the night, letting her walk three miles to her dorm. As soon as she had walked in, she had noticed that Mulder was not in yet; his own computer was not even on. she realized. Sighing heavily, she moved towards the small coffee maker that was kept on all day. Pouring out the remainder of yesterday's brew, she began a new pot and paced in a small circle as she waited for the first cup. she thought to herself. She grimaced. While she had never had many friends, there were a few that she had been close to, and she had let them drift away . . . . because she was so wrapped up in work her mind chided, to spend any time with them. Seeing that the coffee was finally done, she poured herself a cup. Sipping the coffee, she walked to her desk and sat down, staring at the screen saver on her computer. "Well, other than killing Melinda, I guess it's time to get a life of my own," she muttered under her breath. A loud knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Surprised, she looked up as the door opened to reveal Melinda Adams. "Oh, Agent Scully, it's nice to see you," Melinda said as she entered the office. "I don't suppose you've seen Fox this morning, have you?" Although she could barely prevent her eyebrow from raising at Melinda's use of his first name, Dana calmly replied, "No, I haven't seen him yet-his computer's not even on, and that's usually a pretty good sign that he's not here. Is there anything I can help you with?" Melinda sighed, obviously disappointed. "Well, maybe you can. You see, I wanted to do something special for Fox this weekend . . . and I was wondering if you had any ideas. I mean, you've worked with him for so long and you're such good friends . . " her voice trailing off as her face colored slightly. Dana frowned inwardly. Restraining the small feeling of curiosity, she said, "I don't really know, Agent Adams. Mulder and I never did get around to what were our favorite things to do on the weekends." Again, disappointment was stamped on Melinda's face. "Oh, that's too bad. I wanted Fox to have a fun weekend. Well, I have to be going. See you." Dana smiled tightly and nodded. Pulling the door shut quickly, Melinda exited the office, almost tripping over her own feet in her hurry to leave. Dana looked at the closed door, and for some reason, she found herself laughing hysterically. she thought as she crossed her arms over her stomach. And suddenly, she stopped laughing. Because she realized what the problem was, and why she had been so upset lately. And all the pieces fit together. Her moodiness, her anger-why hadn't she seen it? When he had started working less, had started dating, he had left her, leaving her by herself. The phone calls, the movies and popcorn; it had all ended. A song lyric played through her head: "And when I'm left at home, I'm all alone, but I'd rather be alone with you." And in the silent office, Dana realized that she was all alone without him. From: Melissa Rabey Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New-You Can't Give Yourself . . . 1/1-part two of arc Date: 20 Nov 1995 03:00:10 GMT Well, here's part two of my little old trilogy. Send comments or flames-I'll even respond to the flames!!! Oh, and the song lyric is from Lisa Loeb's Do You Sleep? And yes, I do like that CD. And I've revised Be Alone With You . . . after I received some comments about it. I highly recommend reading the revised version before you read this. Disclaimer: Scully, Mulder, CC, 1013, FOX, no copyright infringement is intended, blah blah blah blah . . . you get the idea. You Can't Give Yourself. . . By Melissa(dettiot@udel.edu) Friday evening, 9:12 pm For weeks, Fox Mulder had been feeling wonderful. Work had been light; nothing but paperwork. No chasing mutants through sewers or heating ducts. No murderous lightning boys. Nothing unusual. And an amazing thing . . . he had a girlfriend. He felt like he was in high school again. Sometimes he could barely wait to see her, wanting to do anything to make her happy. And sometimes he ignored her for three days, too focused on a case to call or visit her at her office. Yet for some absurd reason, Melinda was patient with him. But there was one problem . . .Scully. She had been extraordinarily short-tempered recently. At work, she was drawling, sarcastic. And he knew that she had gotten at least one speeding ticket-and had an additional charge for abusive behavior added on to the ticket. And the most upsetting thing was that they had gotten into a fight. True, it wasn't a knock-down drag-out fight, but still, they almost never fought for long. But she had accused him of being patronizing, and when he had flatly denied it, she had jumped all over him, then hadn't talked to him for three days. He didn't understand what was going on. Mulder sighed. Normally, he and Melinda would have gone out-nothing fancy, just a movie and dinner. But tonight he was by himself: Melinda was spending the weekend at her mother's house in New York. While he would have liked to have met Melinda's family, Melinda had been uncomfortable with the idea. And although he wanted to meet Melinda's mother and had been a bit hurt that she hadn't want him to come, he had decided to stay home and enjoy himself. With a triple-Z science fiction movie on TV, a six-pack of Coronas, and two large bags of chips, Mulder was doing just that. Yet, he couldn't keep his mind off Scully. He wondered why she was so upset-could it have something to do with her abduction? It had been about a year ago that she had been taken . . . He fought the sadness that threatened to wash over him in crashing waves. He had been happy, almost deliriously, when she had awoken from her coma. But because of the other feeling that had hovered on the horizion of that happiness, Mulder did his best to ignore thoughts about Scully's abduction. Rolling over on the couch, Mulder thought He knew that it had been a while since she had a date, or even just an evening out with her friends. He grinned wryly, knowing that work on the X-Files was demanding, often meaning little time for a social life. At the thought of Melinda, Mulder couldn't help smiling. Sure, she was young, but she had a sense of humor, mixed with amazing intelligence, that made her charming. And she was strong enough to put up with him, despite his quirks and odd habits. Mulder thought drowsily as he drifted off, the movie and the beers working together to lull him to sleep. Soon, he was dreaming. Not about Samantha, though. Instead of cries for "Fox," a different voice called out his name; a woman's voice, crying desperately, "Mulder!" Mulder turned; he was in a foggy dreamland. From his position, he could see two images: Scully fighting Duane Barry, and, in a vignette set beside it, a twelve year-old Fox lying frozen as his sister hung in the air. In his dream, Mulder fell to his knees, the ache in his middle stronger than it had ever been. The ache he had when he thought about Samantha; the sadness of Scully's abduction; the loss of his father. The pain rolled over him, and his eyes closed involuntarily. Suddenly, everything shifted, and he was in Scully's hospital room, and the pain lessened, because of her wide-open blue eyes. Then, all too quickly, the scene changed again, and he was back in the dreamland. And Scully was there, with tears rolling down her cheeks and her head hanging low. He walked towards her, and she put her arms around him. But as he reached out to hold her, his arms passed through her. Surprised, he tried again, with the same result. Before he could say a word, Scully looked at him. Even with her tears, she was beautiful and remarkable; she had fought against so much, without cracking. Her strength awed him. But even as these thoughts were going through his head, Mulder remembered Melinda: her gentleness, her kindness. With Scully gazing into his eyes, though, Mulder felt an unknown, curious, wonderful sensation pass through him. And she opened her mouth and said, "You can't give yourself absolutely to someone else." And before he could react, she pulled her arms away and disappeared into the mist. He took a step forward, trying to stop her, when abruptly the dream ended, and Mulder woke up on his couch, the phone ringing. He looked at the clock-11:00 pm-as he picked up the phone. "Mulder." "Hi, Fox-it's Melinda." At the sound of her voice, he sat up, trying to ignore the dream. "Hi. How are you?" She sighed a little. "Doing better than you sound. Rough night?" she asked, her voice immediately becoming comforting. Mulder swallowed. "Um, yeah. How's your mom?" he said, changing the subject to avoid thinking about how close to the truth she was. As Melinda babbled on about her mother and her family, Mulder couldn't help thinking about the strangeness of his dream. He had never dreamed about Scully before. And that curious phrase: he recognized it from a song that Scully liked. But what did it mean? Could it be a sign that he wasn't as happy as he thought? He shook his head. He was happy with Melinda; she was intelligent, beautiful, and caring. As he mused over his dream, he realized that Melinda's voice had become annoying-flat and tinny. And when he thought of her in his mind, her brown eyes seemed so plain. And her hair was too long. And what was once a charming laugh now became an irritating giggle. And he could only think of Scully. And suddenly, Fox Mulder lost his train of thought. And as his girlfriend talked about next weekend, all he could think about was her. From: Melissa Rabey Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: New-I Would Dial the Numbers 1/1 Date: 12 Dec 1995 06:04:22 GMT This is the conclusion to my little old story arc-the previous stories are Be Alone With You and You Can't Give Yourself. The title of this story and the song lyric are from Melissa Etheridge's "Come to My Window." Hope you all enjoy this. Comments and flames a plenty can be sent to me at dettiot@udel.edu. Thanks go to Amy, for revising this and always having a good word or three to say about anything I write. Disclaimer: Scully, Mulder, X-Files, CC, 10-13 Productions, FOX Broadcasting , no copyright infringement is intended, blah, blah, blah, blah-get the idea? I Would Dial the Numbers By Melissa(dettiot@udel.edu) Dana could feel an expression of shock drape across her face like a curtain. She loved Mulder, and she didn't know what to do. It was Monday morning, she loved him, and he would be walking in the door at any minute. And she would have to work with him and listen to his stories about his weekend. She jumped up, feeling nervous energy flow through her veins. She paced around the office, wishing for a window with a view that would distract her thoughts. Suddenly, Dana stopped. And although she knew it wasn't the answer, she allowed herself to accept it, and she sat back down at her desk, determined to be working when Mulder walked in. Mulder walked into the elevator, trying to remain calm. All weekend, he had been thinking about Scully. And despite all the probing into his mind and all the soul searching, he only knew that he loved her. And he had a girlfriend and Melinda at least liked him a lot. He had no idea how Scully felt; he didn't know if he wanted to know how she felt. So he let himself ignore his feelings like he always did, and he just focused on work. He approached the door to their office, feeling his apprehension rise. He didn't know if he would be able to pull this off, but he had to. If anyone knew how he felt, Scully would be taken from him. Or, she would leave. At that thought, he could feel his gut twist. Pushing the uneasiness aside and all his emotions, he walked into the office. "Hi, Scully. Have a good weekend?" he asked, keeping his voice casual. Scully felt her cheeks flush a little, but ignored it and made her reply as nonchalant as Mulder's. "It was okay; I did some housework. How was yours?" At the sound of her voice-sounding as it always did, calm and friendly-Mulder felt his hopes, which had risen without his knowledge, drop to the floor to shatter silently. But he answered, "Oh, fine. By the way, did you take care of the paperwork on the Thurston case?" And with that, he shifted into work. And Scully, who had wanted to smile at him, didn't as she handed him the file silently. Thursday 8:09 pm Mulder hung up the phone with a sigh, feeling loneliness settle over him. Melinda was wonderful, but she wasn't the one that he wanted to talk to. He wished he could pick up the phone and call Scully, but everything had changed. When he had started dating Melinda, he had begun to distance himself from her, not even realizing it. But when he realized that he loved Scully, he had begun to feel like his whole world had gone out of its orbit. And he couldn't talk to her or look at her or even be in the same room with her without thinking about his feelings for her. So he had tried to ignore her: working early and late, eating lunch with Melinda instead of with Scully, not calling her about cases or for a late-night talk. But it wasn't helping any, and he could only think of Scully-Dana. The line of a song wandered through his brain; "I would dial the numbers just to listen to your breath." Mulder frowned and shook his head. He knew that he didn't care for Melinda; she had suddenly become totally unattractive to him. She was too tall, too cutesy now. He knew that he should talk to her, try to break it off, but he didn't know if that was the best thing. But he couldn't do that-it wouldn't work. He couldn't hide his feelings for her-at least not for long. He had always concealed his feelings behind an impassisve face, but Scully always knew what he was feeling. Somehow, she could look into his eyes and see the thoughts and emotions that seemed hidden to others. And he knew that he wanted to tell her, wanted to hear his voice catch on the words "I love you, Dana"; see her gaze drop before rising to meet his. And he wanted to hear her say "I love you." With a start, Mulder realized that he couldn't go on like this. If he loved Dana, he couldn't go on without her. And he was sure that he loved Dana . . . he was positive that she was the one. So he picked up the phone and called the woman he was supposed to love, so he could be with the woman he shouldn't love. And as he hung up the phone after quietly telling Melinda it was over, he felt his loneliness replaced with an utter sadness that once Scully found out about how he felt, she would leave him. his mind reminded him. Next Wednesday 9:07 am Scully tucked a strand of hair behind her ear angrily. Mulder was usually here before she was, but he had been late the last three days in a row. He would slink in quietly and sadly, plow through files and paperwork, and leave on the dot of five. He barely spoke to her. Every time he came into the room, she felt like her heart was being put on display for him to see, but fortunately for her, he never looked at her, so he never saw. As she stared at the computer screen, she heard him walk in. Looking up, she tried to smile at him in the absent-minded way she had quickly perfected, only to find that he was standing in front of her desk, staring at her. Her small, nonchalent smile quickly faded at the look on his face-sadness, adoration and a deep fear were combined to create a face which was lined with worry and had eyes that looked dead. As he looked at her, he cursed himself for not doing so earlier. He could see everything he felt mirrored in her eyes, her face, her body language. And the knowledge both terrified and overwhlemed him: the fear of losing her to another department was replaced with the fear of losing her life; of having her be snuffed out one day, like a too-beautiful flame which must be extinguished. And suddenly, he couldn't just tell her, blurt it out like the high school geek to the prom queen. He turned away, feeling her gaze pound against his back, her curiosity peaked. Scully felt her mouth open slightly. He had been looking at her, with his heart in his eyes, and as he had opened his mouth to speak, she could see fear creep into his eyes, and he turned away without saying a word. She sighed, wondering at his behavior. "So, Mulder, how's Melinda?" Mulder started a little, looking up from the file he had been trying to immerse himself in. he wondered. Amazed that his mouth was so dry, he somehow replied, "Um-she's fine, I guess." With that reply, he could see her head shoot up, her eyes locking on him. "What do you mean, 'she's fine, I guess?'" Scully calmly, cooly asked, trying to prevent her heart from making the leaps of instinct it was trying to make. she thought, reason trying to take over. Suddenly, Mulder wanted to run; to leave the building and let it fall away as the distance between him and that basement office increased. Until he was so far away that he wouldn't think about her. But that would never happen. . . he could go to the ends of the earth and he would never be able to forget her. And then, the song lyric from his dream wound its way around his senses again, and he realized its meaning. He could only give himself to her; totally, utterly, completely, and deeply, to Dana Katherine Scully. And she was the only one that he wanted to give himself to, because only she would protect his heart. With all the courage he possessed, he rose to stand by her side. With a quiet steadiness, he said, "We broke up." Dana felt her mind reel. Never had three little words affected anyone as much as those did. She felt paralyzed; her body and her mind were standing still, while a line from a song played through her thoughts, and she recognized all that the lyric meant to her. He was a part of her. And when she was with him, they could each be deep in thought, but connected so much that they were alone with each other. And she fell even more in love with him right then. She made her mouth open enough to say, "How are you feeling?" She felt his eyes on her, as she stared at the suddenly fascinating computer keyboard. At the sound of his voice, she looked up. "I feel like hell. I thought I was in love with her, and suddenly, I thought she sounded funny. And her laugh was too high. And she was too tall. And she wasn't you." His soft voice cracked with emotion. Bending towards her, his heart in his eyes, Mulder said, "I realized she wasn't you, and that you were the one that I wanted to talk to, the one that I wanted to kiss goodnight, the one I wanted to walk down the street with, holding your hand. I realized that it was you." Her emotions were whirling; she couldn't believe that he felt the same way that she did. But as his words sank in, it seemed so right. And he was the only one she wanted. Looking at his eyes, Dana knew that her emotions-the same as his-were being communicated to him. And she opened her mouth and said three little words of her own: "I love you." And then she felt his lips on hers. End-yeah, I know it a lightweight ending, but here it is. By the way, the "three little words" references are a bit of a homage to Karen Rasch's great stories "Three Little Words" and "Saying the Words"-two of the best romances I've ever read.