From: "Heather Horn" <heathabear@hotmail.com>
Date: Sun, 28 Jan 2001 21:16:53 -0600
Subject: Story Revisions
Source: revision

Title: "Burning the Facade"             Rating: G
Author: Heather Horn                    Category: MSR
Original Post Date: 08/18/00
Summary: Not even fire can destroy true love.
Spoilers: "One Breath" and "Brand X"
Distribution: Anywhere and everywhere. Please keep my name
attached, and let me know where you are putting it. Thank
you!
Feedback: Feedback? For moi? I would be honored! Please
direct all of your comments to heathabear@hotmail.com.
Thank you!
Disclaimer: "The X-Files" is copyright Chris Carter, 1013
Productions, and the FOX Network. No money is being made
from this. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Thank you to my wonderful teacher, Jennifer
Fox - I am eternally grateful of you, and I remain forever
in your debt. Thank you to my magnificent beta-reader, Marie
Endres, for all of your hard work, kind words, and input.
Marie, you are the best beta-reader anyone could possibly
ask for.

"Burning the Facade" (1/1)
By Heather Horn

What on Earth had he done? He had been the executor of
plenty of stupid, senseless things before, but telling
Scully that he had picked up a pack of cigarettes on his way
to work? That topped the cake. Because of his latest mistake,
she probably thought him to be a malodorous jerk who was
moments away from subscribing to the Morley's fan club,
instead of a man with good intentions in the midst of a
revelation.

Thanks to a chimneystack that could not stop downing
cigarettes for five minutes, Mulder had spent the last two
weeks on a paid vacation. Having the words "paid" and
"vacation" in the same sentence was always nice, but to
Mulder, there was nothing relaxing about a break from work.

A break from work meant a break from her. A break from her
might break his heart.

She called him every evening of his forsaken "vacation",
she even stopped by a couple of times to make sure that he
was all right. But there were still those long, plodding
nine-to-five hours when she was confined to their office,
and he was confined to loneliness.

He knew that he was supposed to be resting, but no one could
expect a man who had kissed death so many times to stay
still just because of a few little bugs.

He drove to a nearby shopping center, and pulled up to
the little jewelry shop that he had eyed so many times in
passing, yet never took the time to peruse.

A tall, older man stood next to his slender, petite wife,
who looked only a few years younger.

"What can I do for you, sonny?" The man said smiling,
pausing briefly to kiss his wife good-bye. "A ring for your
bride?"

Mulder attempted to speak, but the burning sensation in
his throat instructed him not to. He shook his head, and
wandered over to a case of pretty, yet less engaging
jewelry. He looked in all the cases, but when he set his
eyes upon it, he knew it was the one he had to get for
her - a fourteen-karat gold bracelet with amethyst gems
surrounding it. It was quiet and mystical, a luscious enigma
that screamed her name. It would cost him the "paid" part of
his "paid vacation", but money meant nothing to him; she
meant everything.

He purchased the bracelet, and when he returned to work, he
nestled it in the top drawer of his desk, along with the pack
of Morley's that he had always kept in there. The craving
for nicotine was intense, since his doctor has prescribed it
as the cure. Yet, he simply had them as a symbol of what was
out there - he would never dare to smoke them. It was the
same box that he had found in the vending machine at the
hospital five years ago, and he still had them today.

He told himself that he would give her the bracelet as soon
as she came in, and he sat down at the computer. No work
would actually be completely until he could see her face,
though, and he was overjoyed when she walked in the room a
moment later, her presence lighting up his face.

She asked him how he was feeling; he said he was fine. He
thanked her for saving his life again; she said it was
nothing. It was all a blur to him, so hackneyed that he did
not bother to pay attention. He simply walked over to his
desk, and pulled out the detestable box of Morley's.

Her eyes grew wide as she caught sight of the cigarette
pack, nausea washing over her. As he watched her, it
seemed as if every ounce of respect she had for him had been
drained from her, burned at the core by a name-brand
cigarette. Morley's were their evil; their mission to kill.
They were a syndicate in a box; a consitorium that would
kill both of them without a second thought.

She left the room without a word, and he knew that she would
not be back, at least not for today. He had waited two weeks
to be with her, and he had waited an eternity to tell her how
much she meant to him; to remind her how special she was.

He could wait another eight hours.

He sat there all day, his feet on his desk, the box of
Morley's in one hand, the jewelry box in the other. He knew
that she was probably upstairs in forensics or pathology,
flirting with the handsome scientists and doctors and people
whom he was not.

Why shouldn't she flirt? He asked himself. It's not like
I have dibs on her.

He attempted to push the notion aside, but he felt a sense
of jealousy rising in his chest. Jealousy for something
that might not even be happening, but jealousy none the
less.

When five o'clock rolled around, he crumpled up the box
in one hand, and put the other box safely into his pocket.

He needed to clear his head before he attempted to pick up
the pieces of his life. He wanted to apologize, but he
realized that he had never apologized to Scully before.
After all of the times that he had almost gotten her
killed, he had never taken the time for a simple, "I'm
sorry."

He took a walk to the nearby park, where he often went when
things got too confusing. He sat down on the fountain ledge,
burying his head in his hands. He could not concentrate on
not concentrating, though. He felt the presence of someone
else; a strong, gut instinct that he got every now and then.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself to his feet so that he could
survey the area, and he caught a glimpse of red out of the
corner of one eye. He had not had a chance to cleared his
head, but he knew that fate was not going to wait for him to
prepare himself. It was time to take advantage of the
fortuitous situation.

His mind seemed to have momentarily disappeared, and his
heart took over, leading him towards her. She sat
limply on the other side of the fountain, a cigarette
in one hand; a lighter in the other.

"Scully?" He countered. She looked up at him, then down at
her hands, deeply ashamed.

"I quit for you, Mulder," She whispered hoarsely.

"What?"

"I quit for you," She repeated, more forcefully this time.
"Seven years ago. After that night at the motel in Oregon, I
quit for you. And when I saw you today, with a pack of
Morley's in your hand, I couldn't help but wonder if you
would really do for me what I would do for you."

"Oh, Scully-"

"'Oh, Scully' what, Mulder? Even I can't come up with a
plausible explanation for this one!"

Silence permeated their conversation. They tuned into the
sounds of the city, to the children running down the
streets with their mothers and fathers close behind
them, to the cars rushing by, birds chirping, and the
water splashing down into the fountain.

Anything but words. Anything at all.

Silence is golden, but not with so much anger present,
floating over their heads like a cloud of doom. When
he could stand it no longer, he resumed the conversation as
he reached slowly into his pocket, removing the tiny box.

"Scully," He gently began. "I haven't smoked since I was
eleven. I found a cigarette lying on the floor, and I
bet you can guess who left it there. I felt like I was
sucking exhaust from a carburetor, and I never did it
again - ever. I only kept that box in there as, I don't
know, I guess, symbolism of lies."

"But, Mulder, you told me this morning that you were
smoking!" Scully whined, both emotionally and physically
drained.

"I was hedging. I wanted to give you something else, but I
wasn't sure if you'd want it. I was afraid that if I gave
it to you, I would just screw things up like I always do."

"Well cigarettes didn't exactly have a positive eff -" She
was silenced as he opened his palm and took out the bracelet.
Her eyes stared in disbelief for a moment, a lump developing
in her throat as water collected in the brims of her eyes.

"For me?" She asked shakily, choking back tears.

He nodded.

"But, Mulder, why?" She let the gleaming band drape off of
her index finger. She put her other hand on his cheek,
allowing her fingers to linger there for a moment. Her touch
was silken against his skin, and the scent of her juniper
breeze body spray washed over him. "It's not my birthday.
Bill didn't beat you up, did he?"

"No, no, no, nothing like that," Mulder chuckled. "Although
I am sure he'd like to. I know that the time I spent in the
hospital was really no different from all the other times:
I get a fatal illness, you cure it, and we live happily
ever after. But they made me take time off of work; time away
from you. I sat at home for days, Scully, just thinking about
how much I missed you. Even though you stopped by at night,
just knowing that there were those eight hours of the day
when I wasn't by your side was enough to drive me crazy. And
I realized, Scully, how much you mean to me. I've always
known, but it really hit me recently. I am so sorry, so
sorry for everything that I have ever done to hurt you. All
the times that I left you, all the times that I endangered
your life, and, and this. I'm sorry, Scully. And I want you
to know that you are my truth, a truth more powerful than a
thousand lies."

A monumental smile spread across her face as rich
contentment filled her sparkling eyes.

"I know, Mulder, I know," She whispered. "I feel the same
way. You are the answer to every question that I have ever
had; every question that I will ever have."

He returned her grin, and she snuggled against him, lying
her head on his shoulder. His arm fell into place around
her, and he took her hand in his, fastening the bracelet
around her wrist.

Together they sat on the edge of the fountain in solstice,
watching peacefully as the flame that is the sun burned out
for the day, lowering its facade to give the moon a chance
to thrive.

The night was young, and now, there was nothing left to hide
behind.

THE END

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, I hope you
enjoyed it! Please send all of your comments - kisses and
flames are both greatly appreciated - to
heathabear@hotmail.com. Thank you very much!

You can find all of my fan fiction and much more at my
website,
Mulder + Scully = True Love
http://mstruelove.tripod.com