From laurie_shook@ssl.umd.edu Mon May 05 12:46:03 1997 Subject: completed story From: Laurie Shook -------- haven't seen this show up, and it's disappeared from my newsreader so... here goes... thanks, laurie :) ======== "Breathe a Sigh or Two" 1/4 4/22/97 laurie shook all comments to laurie_shook@ssl.umd.edu Usual disclaimers apply. No harm or copyright infringement intended in any way. All characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I'm just a lowly grad student procrastinating my satellite design hw. This is my first post of any kind (i usually just lurk), so please be gentle. (i'm only a rocket scientist, not a writer :) ) All comments welcomed. This is a m/s relationship piece... probably more angst than romance, 'tho ... all naysayers turn back now... you've been warned. Reflections of our heroes after "Small Potatoes." Spoilers. Song on the radio at Scully's is "Possession" by Sarah McLachlan. Summary: Mulder, Scully, and Eddie reflect on their actions during Small Potatoes (4th season spoilers) Rating : PG (little language) Classification: S,R,A To Jeff, who thinks I can control the weather. Must be fate. "If I could only have you near, to breathe a sigh or two... If I could know within my heart, that you were lonely too... I would be happy just to hold the hand I love, on this winter's night with you." -Sarah McLachlan, "Song for a Winter's Night" *** It was the total and complete unfairness of it all that hurt the most. Dana Scully lay there in the dark, on her couch, _the_ couch. The embers of the fire which had made her place so warm and inviting only hours before, drifted unnoticed in the fireplace. After all this time, to come so close to something she had only entertained in her wildest fantasies, and then given a rude shove back to reality. *Not quite what I had imagined,* she thought wryly. Not even close to the scenes she had imagined and then discarded in the name of professionalism, or so she had told herself. But looking back, more likely in the name of demons; fear of rejection, or worse, of reaching out and holding something infinitely precious in her grasp... and then losing everything, even the friendship which had become her anchor in this world of absurdity. The scene replayed itself over and over in her mind. The shock of seeing him at her front door, wearing that goofy-looking grin, but somehow being pleasantly surprised that he was there. Wondering what he had up his sleeve coming here on a friday night with a bottle of wine... where's the trap, where's the mindgame here? Deciding instead to take it at face value, flying in the face of all reason. *I should have known it wasn't him,* the little rational voice in her head cried out. *But I wanted it to be him so badly, * a faint emotional voice protested, only to be squashed down firmly. Watching him squirm on the couch, like a little boy, not quite comfortable in his own body. Little had she known how accurate that assessment was, chalking it instead up to nervousness... or self-consciousness... or ... what the hell was he doing there anyway? Taking that last uncharitable response and swallowing it down before it burst out of her lips, and instead offering him a glass. Sitting down to talk, really _talk_, not of work or babies with tails or meteorites oozing black goo or of flukemen or even of paperwork, but of times long gone by and people who had since crept into the grey edges of your memory. And it was pleasant, to be a person... to be part of two people, entwined in old stories, firelight, and a warm, peaceful feeling. To be treated as just... Dana, with none of the ghosts of four years standing between them. Remembering a warm smile that had crept across her face, feeling like at least one thing was going right in this world. And when he got that funny look on his face, she started a bit. Bracing herself to stop him, to stop herself before something happened. All at once, at war with her desire and better sense. Her emotions brushing away something important nagging at the back of her mind, something not quite right. *But it is right, it's Mulder.* And then he leaned in and all she saw was his deep, beautiful eyes and perfect lips, and felt her eyelids slowly shut... waiting, feeling the seconds stretch out to hours... *oh, God*... letting out a breath she didn't even know she had been holding, feeling his breath mingle with hers... standing at the edge of a cliff, about to jump. And then the door flew open with a crash and the man sitting next to her snapped his head to look... as she fumbled to try to regain her grip on reality, faced with the dichotomy in front of her. In shock as her mind, her very logical mind, tried to wrap itself around the fact that there were now two of _him_ in the room with her. And knowing that the one who had just broken the door down was mostly likely her partner. Her partner, who was standing there with a very shocked look on his face. Seeing herself jump to her feet and push "him" off her, push herself away from her one moment of weakness. *Oh my God, it wasn't him,* the words kept running through her mind. Watching, as the familar face next to her melted into the strange features of Eddie Van Blundht. Standing in shock as Mulder, *the real one,* her mind prompted, unceremoniously hauled a sheepish looking Eddie off her couch and roughly cuffed him. "You ok, Scully?," Mulder said with a catch in his voice. "Fine," she had managed. *Damn, damn, damn* "I'll take care of our... friend here." *** "Just close your eyes... And I would be the one to hold you down, kiss you so hard, I'll take your breathe away " crooned the woman on the radio softly. Dana threw a pillow at it in frustration, hitting the off switch and throwing the room into silence. Silence, except for her breathing. Unconsciously, she touched her fingers to her lips, thinking of his breath on them and wondering if she would have felt the same if it really had been him. Mulder's words returning to her, "Well, maybe it's not. I mean, everybody else around you would treat you like you were someone else. And ultimately, maybe it's other people's reactions to us that make us who we are." Did that mean she had just reacted to the Mulder she knew, filling in the lapses in behavior with acceptable excuses? And had she really been about to kiss the soul of the awkward janitor who had listened to her all evening in copy of Mulder's body? Or instead, was she kissing a face representative of her partner, after thinking she had finally connected with the man she had know for years in some sweet, simple way? *I should have known, everything with Mulder has to be complicated.* And then she finally drifted off into a troubled sleep, there on the couch, not quite remembering her dreams the next morning. ******* ======== "Breathe a Sigh or Two" 2/4 4/22/97 laurie shook all comments to laurie_shook@ssl.umd.edu Usual disclaimers apply. No harm intended in any way. All characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I'm just a lowly grad student procrastinating my satellite design hw. This is my first post of any kind (i usually just lurk), so please be gentle. (i'm only a rocket scientist, not a writer :) ) All comments welcomed. This is a m/s relationship piece... probably more angst than romance, 'tho (all naysayers turn back now... you've been warned.) Reflections of our heroes after "Small Potatoes." Spoilers. Song on the radio at Mulder's is "Love's Funny That Way" by Tina Arena. PG- language For some reason, this section was a lot harder to write... not sure if it's writing across gender, or writing about someone so, so... well, Mulder, i guess is the only way to put it... comments here would help a lot... "I wake up scared, I wake up strange, I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever going to change... Well, I couldn't tell you that I was wrong, chickened out, grabbed a pen and paper, sat down and I wrote this song. I couldn't tell you that you were right, So instead, I looked in the mirror, watched tv, laid awake all night..." - Barenaked Ladies, "What a Good Boy" *** Mulder slammed the door of his apartment shut as hard as he could, despite the fact that it was after 3 am. After spending the last couple of hours in a Maryland State Police barracks trying to get someone to believe his story *Yes, I am an FBI agent* and take Edward VanBlundht *with an 'h', please* into custody, he could care less what the neighbors thought. Pacing, he crossed the room in restless strides. He checked his answering machine, listening to the two messages and deleting both. He wondered how he could possibly explain blowing off the Lone Gunmen this time. Hearing Frohike already, "See, I told you we should have set up video surveillance at her place last week." He mindlessly changed out of the clothes he had spent a day and a half in, wondering *where did I put my gray t-shirt?*, and threw himself down on the couch. It had only been a stroke of luck that the night shift janitor *How ironic* had finally come down to the dark hospital basement and let him out. Just in time for him to drive back from West Virginia, and find his partner just about to kiss him. Or at least someone who she had thought was him. *It's nice to know your partner for four years can't tell you apart from a fucking janitor.* His eidetic memory played it over and over in his mind for him. As well as every other time he had thought of doing the same thing, and hadn't. *God, I wish that had been me on that couch* He reached for the stereo remote and turned it on, wanting to find something loud and angry to listen to; to stand between him and his pain. Instead of the driving rock of his usual station he got some sort of soft, upbeat song; "...In a heartbeat, a wise man can be a fool. There's no guarantee that love will be a stranger or a friend. Forever tender or a heartache that never ends Through the darkest hour, when all is said and done, It has the power... You go from lonely to the lucky one. 'Cause love's funny that way, no matter who you are Well, it can shake your faith, it can break your heart Once in a while the mountains move, we all long for those days, 'Cause you live, you laugh, you see; love's funny that way... Not long ago, I got to know my lonely side Just me and my pain and nowhere to hide Well, it amazes me, oh, how my world turned around And if it's meant to be, that's all that matters to me anyhow. 'Cause love's funny that way, no matter who you are Well, it can shake your faith, it can break your heart Once in a while the mountains move, we all long for those days, 'Cause you live, you laugh, you see; love's funny that way... So when you don't understand, best to leave it in love's hands Just live, laugh, and see; love's funny that way..." Switching the music off just as suddenly, he flung the remote against the far wall, hearing the satisfying crack of plastic. *Evidently, Eddie must have been messing with more than just my partner,* a little possessive voice thought angrily. It was no use trying to avoid it, instead he sat alone in the darkness, letting his thoughts wander back a couple of hours. ** Worrying about his partner, who he had somehow known would be Eddie's next target, he had broken every major traffic law in three states getting to her apartment after he couldn't reach her on her cell phone. He hadn't even knocked, hearing muffled noises inside, and simply broke the door down. And froze. Seeing the last thing he had expected, himself. Himself, about to kiss her. *This can't be happening* And the deceptively solid ground he had been so carefully treading upon with her for the last couple of months fell away beneath him. He had recovered just enough not to beat the hell out of Eddie VanBlundht, instead roughly hauling him off the couch and cuffing him, mumbling something he couldn't remember to Scully and dragging Eddie out the door. The silent, strained ride to the police station and subsequent bureaucratic shuffle were vague and indistinct compared to the prior events of the evening. He kept seeing her face as she began to comprehend what had happened. Replaying how it had turned from shock to dismay, with possibly a flicker of disappointment?, before the walls went up again. And seemingly, unbelievably, she had been willing to entertain the idea of kissing him. The thought amazed and humbled him. He hadn't thought he had ever done anything good enough in his life to even deserve the unswerving loyalty she gave him, let alone to hope for something more. How? How had Eddie managed to come so close to what he had only dreamed of? Mulder couldn't even figure out how "he" would have even gotten to the point where "he" was sitting on the couch with her. Scully's voice haunted him, "Looking like someone else and being someone else are completely different things." Did that mean, despite her conscious perceptions of the situation, she had really wanted to kiss *Eddie*, not him? And then, what was it about Eddie that made Scully want his impostor closer than she had ever wanted him? Slowly, the clock kept a vigil for him. Questions kept swarming about him in the dark, *Where do I go from here? What do I say to her now? Would she even want the real me?,* tickling at his mind as he lay there, unable to sleep. His normally sharp mind failed him; there weren't any amazing flashes of insight this time, leaving him just as lost as before. **** ====== Breathe a Sigh or Two" 3/4 4/27/97 laurie shook all comments to laurie_shook@ssl.umd.edu Usual disclaimers apply. No harm intended in any way. All characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I'm just a lowly grad student procrastinating my satellite design hw. This is my first post of any kind (i usually just lurk), so please be gentle. (i'm only a rocket scientist, not a writer :) ) All comments welcomed. This is a m/s relationship piece... probably more angst than romance, 'tho...all naysayers turn back now... you've been warned. Reflections of our heroes after "Small Potatoes." Spoilers. Summary: Mulder, Scully, and Eddie reflect on their actions during Small Potatoes Archive: sure, why not... Feedback? Please? "Once a year we turn all... upside down E'vry man's a king and e'vry king's a clown Once again it's topsy turvy day It's the day the devil in us gets released It's the day we mock the prig and shock the priest E'vrything is topsy turvy..." - Alan Menken, Steven Schwartz, "Topsy Turvy" *** "I shouldn't be here," said Eddie. "And why do you think you shouldn't be here," his therapist asked. "Because I didn't hurt anybody." "But you raped five women and attempted to attack a sixth." "I didn't rape them. They wanted to be with me. And in the end, everybody got what they wanted." "Only because they thought you were someone else; someone close to them that they loved or trusted." "But I didn't hurt them." "Eddie, you need to believe that you can be wanted for who you are and not who you can become. You have some serious self-esteem issues you need to deal with. I thought we were working on that. Where's the hat I gave you?" she chided "They took from me" "Eddie, if you don't love yourself, we can't love you. Now here's another hat." She reached into her bag to find it. Eddie rolled his eyes. She handed it to him. " I want you to wear it this time. And every time you look at yourself in the mirror, "Say, 'I am a superstar. And I love me.'" ** Eddie sat in his cell, stuffing his red hat under his pillow, sighing. Life was so boring now that he could no longer make faces. He bet it was that tall FBI agent, Mulder, he had "borrowed" that made sure of that. He'd looked pretty pissed when he caught Eddie about to kiss the lovely Agent Scully. *Wonder what her first name was?* What was up with that anyway? What kind of idiot doesn't call someone by their first name? Of course, with a name like *Fox*, he might want to forget first names all together. The therapist was wrong, he hadn't hurt anybody. She hadn't been there to see their faces. They had all seemed happy enough, and all four women had gotten the children that they so desperately wanted. Amanda, well, she was another story. He had loved her in high school, and had missed her since. He hadn't meant to get her pregnant, but neither was he truly shocked or disappointed that he had. He went to see their baby, beaming with pride in the midst of all the other fathers by the nursery. He had hoped that maybe with "Luke" gone and her feeling needy, he might have had another chance. That had been swiftly quelled by his visit to her bedside in the guise of Agent Mulder. She had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was a loser *Eww, that's Eddie* and that she was glad to be through with him *What was I thinking*. That was the hardest part of pretending, accidentally choking on a mouthful of the things no one would ever say to your face. *No romance, no ambition, no sense of direction.* He knew that the majority of people in Martinsburg thought he was a loser. But when he pretended, he could be anybody. And he usually did a better job at it than they did. The wives, they were all pretty simple, watching each in the waiting room before their visits with Dr. Pugh. Picking up pet names and bits of conversation, he managed to bluff his way into their houses when the husbands were working late or off on business. It wasn't too hard in a town where people still left their doors unlocked. None of the women had suspected anything until the day their babies were born. Being Luke, well, that was a bit harder to swallow, but he knew Amanda would fall head over heels for her hero. And he had just needed to touch her again, to have her close. She had been the one person who had actually seen good in him when he looked like himself. Agent Scully was a bit different. At first, she had just been his ticket out of town when he was on the verge of being hauled off to jail. But, she was beautiful and needy as well. Who could resist? He didn't think there'd be any harm in giving them both something that they wanted. There was such a gulf between her and her partner that Eddie knew all he had to do was bridge it, and he might have a chance. And Fox, who could imagine such a loser? Working with her day after day, and never even trying to get to know her. The only regret that Eddie had felt was when he saw the pain flicker in her eyes for an instant when she pulled away. The others, he had given them their heart's desire for allowing him to pretend with them. But with Scully, all she had gotten was hurt. She was such a nice woman, he wanted to try to do something for her if he could. Only problem was, it depended on her stubborn partner. ** "Is there any way I could talk to Agent Mulder?" "Is he one of the people you impersonated, Eddie?" asked the therapist in her usual patronizing tone. "Yes" "Why do you want to talk to him? What do you feel it would do?" "I need to talk to him about what I did, I want to apologize." Eddie hung his head slightly, managing to look repentant. "Confronting your mistakes is always a good place to start . I'll see what I can arrange." Eddie would have rolled his eyes again if he could have gotten away with it. Sometimes it was so easy to tell people what they wanted to hear. **** ======== Breathe a Sigh or Two" 4/4 4/28/97 laurie shook all comments to laurie_shook@ssl.umd.edu Usual disclaimers apply. No harm intended in any way. All characters belong to Chris Carter and Fox. I'm just a lowly grad student procrastinating my satellite design hw. This is my first post of any kind (i usually just lurk), so please be gentle. (i'm only a rocket scientist, not a writer :) ) All comments welcomed. This is a m/s relationship piece... probably more angst than romance, 'tho ...all naysayers turn back now... you've been warned. Reflections of our heroes after "Small Potatoes." Spoilers. Summary: Mulder, Scully, and Eddie reflect on their actions during Small Potatoes Archive: sure, why not... Feedback?? Please??? This is my first short story in a long time... And the first I've ever posted. This part to Mich, who puts up with my insanity and thinks Mulder needs to wear glasses more often. "I spend too much time raiding windmills We go side-by-side laugh until it's right Take the darkest hour break it open Water, to repair what we have broken There's something that you won't show Waiting where the light goes And anyway the wind blows All worth waiting for..." -Toad the Wet Sprocket, "Windmills" " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" -Hebrews, 11:1 *** Scully stood by the guard post of the correctional facility as Mulder went in to talk to Edward Van Blundht. Almost a month later, and they still hadn't really talked about what had happened that night. She had been embarrassed and angry at herself for her loss of control, but she would have talked about it . But instead, he had retreated to his usual defense mechanisms and she had followed suit. They had been on their way to investigate a new case, and Mulder mentioned a quick stop on the way to follow up on a prisoner. She hadn't known it was Eddie until they reached the Cumberland prison gate, but stifled her surprise and gave in to the inevitability of reopening some unanswered questions. She was surprised again when Mulder told her Eddie had asked to see him alone, but didn't object. She had no real reason to want to see him again. He had touched a chord in her, seeing in her something she had been searching for, and giving it to her. But what Eddie didn't understand was that she only wanted those things if they were a part of a whole, a part of Mulder. ** Mulder was distinctly uncomfortable. He knew he should have told Scully where they were going, but one look at her face and he didn't have the courage to bring it up. He felt like he was going to prison himself as he walked down the long, dark corridor to the visitor's room. He signed in and left Scully in the hall at the guard's desk. Moments later, he heard the buzz of the door lock. Steadying himself, he opened the door and entered. The room was typical; cold, gray, and definitely institutional. He sighed and pulled a plastic chair up to the glass window, across from a familiar figure in an orange jumpsuit and silly red hat. "Thanks for coming," Eddie said "What's with the hat?" Mulder said flatly, not knowing where to begin. "Oh, this? My court appointed therapist makes me wear it. She says it's meant to bolster my self-esteem." Eddie's tone conveyed the stock he held in that theory. "Does it?" Mulder smirked, trying to bury the jealousy welling up in him. "Not really. The other inmates just beat me up and take it from me. Which would be ok, except every week she brings me a new hat. Plus, they keep me on some sort of muscle relaxant, so I... I can't make faces the way I used to. Did you tell them to do that?" Mulder didn't answer. Scully had recommended the muscle relaxant, based on his father's autopsy data. But he couldn't say he was sorry. "Is.. uh... Agent _Scully_ here?" Eddie leered, deliberately trying to bait Mulder. He could see the ripples of emotion on the surface of Mulder's composure. *Come on, there's a nice juicy worm here, little fish... just take the bait... I can help you...* "What did you want to talk to me about, Eddie?" Mulder didn't know how much more of this he could take, especially with Scully listening in the hallway. "I just think it's funny. I was born a loser." *Without that tail, boy, you're just small potatoes* "But you're one by choice." "On what do you base that astute assessment?" Mulder replied caustically. "Experience." Eddie leaned in toward the window, his expression earnest. "You should live a little. Treat yourself. God knows, I would... if I were you." Mulder looked at him for a long moment, emotions clouding his eyes, then twisted in his chair and headed toward the door. Eddie watched him as he left. *I tried, Agent Scully. Maybe it was enough. I hope you find your heart's desire.* ** Scully winced as she listened to the interplay between Eddie and Mulder. She couldn't see Mulder's face, but imagined it to be the same impassive stare he had been wearing all day. He was slouched in the chair, looking for all the world like he wanted to bolt. She wasn't sure what Eddie wanted from Mulder, but his words seemed heartfelt and honest. Or at least as honest as anyone used to manipulating people could seem. She saw Mulder turn and leave, not sure what to say to him. She couldn't tell him what she had felt when "he" was about to kiss her; Mulder wasn't ready for that. But she felt his pain, so she tried to reach out to him, from behind her walls. "I don't imagine you need to be told this, Mulder, but you're not a loser." "But I'm no Eddie Van Blundht either... Am I?" said Mulder, sneaking a sideways peak at her. Just a touch of wistfulness colored his last words. *Would you... could you... be that close to me?* She didn't answer, not knowing his feelings and not being able to trust her own. *Maybe you're not hopeless after all, Mulder* a small voice inside Scully thought. *I won't hold my breath,* replied another, more cynical voice. And for once, she squashed the cynical voice back down, believing for a moment in what she had begun to feel might be, given time. Time, she had realized in the last few months, that she might not have. But for right now, she was willing to wait. In a mix of frustration, despair, and love, she breathed a sigh. ****