From: eponine119@att.net (eponine119)
Date: 26 Jun 1996 19:06:23 GMT
Subject: NEW: Center of the X [1/1]


Disclaimer: Characters and stuff belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox.  
No infringement intended.

Warnings: I don't think any apply.  [Thinking harder, in shock]  Well, 
this story might disgust some of the anti-relationshippers.

This story was previously posted to Mysterious and Suspicious under the 
title "Divided" and has been rewritten since that posting.  Thanks, guys.


Center of the X
by eponine119		
eponine119@att.net
June 3, 1996

1:15 PM

She stood behind his left shoulder, waiting for him. He didn't move, and 
he didn't like feeling her pressuring him.  She sighed softly and he 
closed his eyes against the wave of emotion that flooded through him.

He picked up the pen and turned it in his hand, feeling its smooth 
coldness, contemplating the rich green of the metal casing.  His hand 
shook slightly as he forced it near the papers on the desk.  
The papers he couldn't bear to look at, let alone sign.

He threw the pen down.  "No," he said.  "I won't do it."  He stood then, 
throwing the chair back, and left the room without another word, his 
anger evident in the line of his shoulders and the boldness of his stride.


The woman sighed and calmly gathered the papers and put them back into 
the file.  She knew how men were.  She'd call him in about a week, and 
maybe then he'd be ready.

Office of the X-Files
Basement of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building
3:34 PM

The silence in the small basement office was killing them both.  Mulder 
glanced up from the file he was reading and looked at Scully, who was 
frowning over a file of her own.  She had her glasses on and a pencil 
stuck behind her ear, and she had no idea that he was looking at her.  
She's so beautiful, thought Mulder.
	
He knew he didn't deserve her.  And he wondered, not for the first time, 
when she'd realized it for herself.
	
Scully felt Mulder's eyes on her and her shoulders tensed.  She raised 
her head and met his eyes, but only for a moment before his gaze slid 
guiltily away.  She got to her feet and reached for her coat.  He glanced 
at her again, surreptitiously, wondering where she was headed.  Wondering 
if she would tell him where she was going.
	
"This woman, Melba, the palm reader in the file.  I have some questions," 
said Scully to Mulder but she was looking down at her shoes.  "I - I 
don't think I'll be back tonight.  Lock up," she said and he nodded, but 
she didn't look to see his reaction.  Her eyes remained on the floor as 
she walked out of the office.
	
Damn it, Mulder thought, slumping in his chair.  I should have spoken to 
her before she left.  I need to talk to her, and I can't keep putting it 
off.
	
But he was afraid to tell her how he felt.  He slammed the file closed on 
his desk and grabbed his overcoat, punching the light switch savagely on 
his way out the door.  He didn't want to sit in the quiet office by 
himself.  He had to get out, take some action, do something.  Though he 
didn't know what he could possibly do to fix this.

Melba's 
4:11 PM

Scully was uncomfortable in the palm reader's lair with its red fringed 
tablecloths and curtains, and deep blue walls with glow-in-the-dark stars 
pasted on.  She shifted in her chair across the table from the 
fortuneteller and crossed her legs.  "I'm sorry to bother you like this," 
she said, "I just need to ask you a few questions before I can officially 
close the case."

Melba adjusted her purple and green shawl tighter around her thin 
shoulders.  "You have many questions," she said in a whisper, leaning 
across the table, closer to Scully.  "Not all of them I can answer, but 
some."

Scully wondered if the so-called psychic's Russian accent was for real.  
About as real as the rest of her, she thought.

"You have doubts," intoned Melba.

Yeah, that took a psychic, thought Scully, pursing her lips.  "Just a few 
questions," she repeated and reached for her bag to extract her notebook.

	
Melba placed her hand over Scully's on the table and Scully looked at her 
sharply.  Melba's brown eyes were deep and mysterious as they met 
Scully's.  "Let me answer your questions," she said, taking Scully's 
small hand in her own wrinkled one and smoothing it so the palm was open. 
 "I see..." Melba said, beginning, staring into her palm.

"Good, long life line," said Melba with Scully's hand up very close to 
her eyes.  Scully fought a yawn.  "There is another line, very close.  
Someone keeps good watch over you at all times.  He is like your guardian 
angel, only he is with you in life.  You know someone like this, yes?"

It took Scully a moment to realize it had been an actual question. "Yes," 
she answered gruffly, fighting the urge to snatch her hand away.

"Your heart line and your head line meet here, very early, around age 
sixteen, seventeen.  Your head is very strong, it overrules what your 
heart tells you.  You should listen to your heart more to be happy."

"Great," muttered Scully.

"You have many mishaps, but no major injuries.  I see...one man.  Very 
strong presence in your life, but your head interferes with your heart.  
I see, possibly, marriage to this man, but is shaky.  Is uncertain."  
Melba continued, twisting Scully's hand in hers and curling her fingers.  
"As I thought, is uncertain about children of this man.  Maybe two, maybe 
none.  Has everything to do with this stubborn head of yours."

Scully rolled her eyes at the silver streaked black ceiling.

Melba stretched out her hand again and peered more closely.  "You are at 
a crossroads now, a time when you must decide.  Your heart and your head 
are in great collision now and you are very unhappy.  You do not know 
what to do.  This is so, yes?"  Again those mysterious brown eyes 
searched hers.

Scully found no reason to lie to this stranger.   "Yes," she said and 
tried not to think about it, looking down at her hand in this woman's.  
It was all a bunch of hooey, she reminded herself, and she hasn't told 
you one thing that is specific.

"You must make decision, and soon.  Which to follow, heart or head. 
Whether to be happy.  It will not be easy, but it must be done.  Tonight, 
if I am correct.  See, here is the crossing of the roads."  And with that,
 Melba traced the two lines, her finger making a large X right in the 
center of Scully's palm.

Scully shivered and jumped up, nearly knocking the table over in her rush 
to get out of there.  "I have to go," she said by way of apology, and ran 
out the door.

Not fast enough to miss hearing Melba's final words of advice.  "At the 
center of the cross, of this X, you must decide which you believe, your 
head or your heart."

park bench
near the Jefferson Monument
7:13 PM

Scully was shivering.  The sun had gone down and it was freezing, but 
still she did not move from the bench.  Melba's words echoed in her ears 
as she looked up at the full moon through tear-shimmery eyes.  She 
crossed her arms and willed herself not to cry.

And not to think of Mulder.

She struggled to take a deep breath as she looked over at the monument, 
glowing through the night, remembering the other time they had met here, 
when they had been so far apart, but still needed to reach out to one 
another.  She shook her head and looked down at the black water.  He 
didn't need her anymore.  Perhaps he had at one time, but that time was 
long past.

"Is this seat taken?"

She jumped when she looked up, thinking it had to be a dream.  She had 
willed him to come to her and he had.  Mulder swallowed hard as he waited 
for her answer, fully expecting her to tell him to get away from her.

"No, but I have to warn you, I'm in a dark mood right now," Scully 
murmured, praying he wouldn't turn away from her.  Although he had every 
right to.

"I'll take my chances," he responded with a wry grin, "I'm armed." He 
hitched open his coat slightly to show her his weapon.  He was in casual 
clothes, she noticed, and she caught his masculine scent on the faint 
breeze.  He'd gone running and then showered, she thought, her heart 
aching at the recognition that was uniquely hers and held a special place 
in her memory.

Mulder sat down on the bench, hesitant, not certain if he was sitting too 
close to her or not.  She stared down at the water again and he looked at 
her white face in the moonlight, thinking about how much he loved her. 
How much he couldn't bear to lose her.  And he knew he would lose her if 
he didn't do something.

He put his arm around her shoulders and waited for her to turn away.

She put her head against his shoulder and allowed him to cradle her close 
to him, shutting her eyes and letting the feeling take her back to 
another time and another place.  "When did things get to be so bad?" 
Mulder asked, his voice low as though he was afraid of the answer.

Scully shifted her head against him.  "I don't know," she replied plainly.
  "But it happened because we didn't do anything to stop it."

"Is it too late?" asked Mulder, his hand lightly tracing up her arm.

"I don't want it to be too late," Scully replied, twisting around to face 
him but remaining close to him, in his arms.  "I love you, Mulder, and I 
need you."  There, she thought, she'd said it.  Finally.  So why did she 
still feel so sad?

"Are you sure?" Mulder asked and he looked even sadder than Scully.

She nodded, holding his eyes.

"I just thought...after so long...it would be harder to say."  Mulder 
suggested.

For a moment she bristled at the idea of him telling her how she should 
feel.  Then Scully forced herself to relax.  "I'd say it every day if we 
could go back to the way things were before," she said and meant it.

"Every day?" Mulder said, as though joking, as though he was thinking of 
taking her up on it.  She nodded solemnly.  "So what do we do now?" he 
asked seriously.

"I think you should kiss me," Scully said, and he looked into her eyes to 
see if she meant it.  She did, and he touched her lips gently with his, 
only for the briefest second before pulling away.

"You hurt me, you know," Mulder told her, removing his arm from her 
shoulders.  He couldn't bear to be in contact with her while he had to 
tell her how she'd ripped his heart out of his chest, still beating and 
warm and held it in her cold little hands.

"I know," Scully admitted, looking away, focusing on the monument before 
them.  "You hurt me, too, by keeping secrets and doing things on your own.
  The way you always have.  The way you always will.  I had to protect 
myself."

"And now?" asked Mulder.  "What's changed, so suddenly, that you're 
asking me to kiss you?"  He couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice.


"I realized that by keeping myself safe from feeling pain, I was also 
keeping myself from feeling loved."  Scully said simply, and it took 
almost all of her calm courage to meet his eyes at that moment.  She 
reached out and put her hands over his.  "The same thing you were doing 
when you went off by yourself and tried to shut me out of your life.  
Neither of us can change the way we are, Mulder," she said.  

"You're right," he said, misunderstanding her, hearing the words 'it's 
over' underneath the words she did say.  But he'd known that for a long 
time, through the silence between them.

"So we have to build on that," she continued and, surprised, he blinked 
back his tears.  "We have to trust ourselves enough to know that we can 
trust each other."

"Do you mean that?" Mulder asked, full of hope.

She nodded, her smile barely keeping back her own tears.  "I don't want 
to lose you," Scully told him and sniffled as he grinned at her.  She 
took her hands away from his and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her coat 
and then reached into her pocket.  Mulder watched as she withdrew the 
ring and slipped the small gold band back onto her finger.  Where it 
belonged.  He hadn't seen it there in such a long time.  She reached over 
and traced the matching band on his finger and smiled up at him.  "Aren't 
you going to say anything?" she asked.

He told her fiercely, "You're coming home with me.  And I'm not sleeping 
on the couch anymore, Mrs. Mulder."

She laughed softly.  "That's Dr. Scully-Mulder," she corrected, as she 
had so many times in the early, happiest days of their marriage.

"No," said Mulder with gentle force, "Mrs. Mulder.  It's too easy for you 
to drop the 'Mulder' from the end."  As she had in the past months that 
they'd been apart, returning to being just Dr. Scully.

"I guess we can discuss it tomorrow," she informed him, "Right after we 
call the lawyers and tell them to tear up the, um, the divorce papers."  
Mulder grabbed her to him then and hugged her tight against him, as 
though he never intended to let her go.  "What is it?" she asked, 
surprised at his sudden intense display of feeling.

"What if I'd signed the papers this morning?" he asked, his voice rough.

"It doesn't matter," Scully said, holding him.  "I believe we were meant 
to be together."

Mulder looked her in the eye.  "Say that again," he said, barely 
breathing.

"We were meant to be together."

"No, the other part," he told her.

"I believe we were..."  she began to repeat herself, and then she 
realized what she'd said and what it meant to him.  A smile spread slowly 
across her face.  "I believe," she whispered to her husband.  "I believe.
"

The End.

Were you surprised [by the divorce bit]?  Did you think there needed to 
be more of Mulder? I'm still not sure if this story's OK, so any comments 
you have, constructive criticism or otherwise, would be very helpful to 
me and very appreciated, as always!  Address all comments to 
eponine119@att.net.  Thanks!



_________________________________________
eponine119          eponine119@att.net
"Beyond the barricade, is there a world you long to see?"   
             - Les Miserables [the musical]
_________________________________________