From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 29 Sep 2001 22:07:07 -0000 Subject: Connections by Eral C Source: direct Reply To: eral_c@hotmail.com TITLE: Connections AUTHOR: Eral C. CATEGORY: A little piece set mid-Requiem. MSR with a pinch of angst, as usual ;) DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Mulder & Scully belong to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, IMHO. Or, to Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox, if you prefer. SUMMARY: "Although I don't know where this fear is coming from, I feel it anyway, like a rock in the pit of my stomach." COMMENTS: Before I was *truly* inspired to write after Existence, I used to scribble little half stories, with no intention of doing anything with them. This was a post-Requiem "scribble" and I'd forgotten about it until, during possibly the biggest house clean up in the history of the world , I found a disk and guess what was on it...? So, I tidied it up a little and decided to put it out 'there'. FEEDBACK: Love it! At eral_c@hotmail.com For anyone interested, I finally have all of my stories on a website at http://www.geocities.com/eral_c so please stop by, I have a terrible fear of being my only visitor :) Connections by Eral C. "I won't let you go alone." My fingers stroke the back of his neck as I make my declaration and I feel his arms tighten around me. I don't ever want to let go, I want him to take me home, bury himself in me and make me feel safe. I want to taste his soft kisses, his breath on my neck as he holds me and tells me over and over that he loves me, that I am his. "Let's go home, Scully." I look up and meet his eyes yet I can only nod in agreement. I don't trust my voice not to reveal the anguish I am feeling, the emotions swirling around inside me like an imminent storm. I should know better than to think I can hide it from him, we don't need words, we never really did. My eyes divulge more than mere words ever could, especially to him. He told me not so long ago that he fell in love with my eyes the moment he met me, that when he feels lost, my eyes are his anchor, like a light in the darkness guiding him home. We walk down the deserted hallway in silence, just listening to each other breathe. As we step onto the elevator, I take his hand and squeeze it tightly. If my eyes are his anchor, then his hands are mine. There is no other comfort for me quite like the touch of his hand. The gentle tangling of his fingers within mine somehow gives me whatever I am seeking - courage, calm, love. Always love. "You okay?" His voice is barely above a whisper and I nod, this time unable to make eye contact for fear that the tears currently threatening to spill will make their escape, telling him exactly how afraid I am for him, for us. Although I don't know where this fear is coming from, I feel it anyway, like a rock in the pit of my stomach. Again, he seems to know and he tilts my chin towards him until I have no choice but to meet his gaze, unprepared for what I see - tears shimmering in his eyes. He pulls me to him and I feel his fingers in my hair, his lips brushing the top of my head. "It'll be okay, Scully. Couple of days and I'll be back. You'll hardly have time to miss me." "Something doesn't feel right, Mulder." My voice is small and shaky and my stomach flutters with what I can only imagine is fear, panic and dread all rolled into a big ball. I can't explain it but everything inside me is screaming at me not to let him go, to plead with him to stay. I won't do that, it's important for him to go, he needs to know what's happening in Bellefleur and he won't rest until he does. I won't rest either, not until he's safely back home. ********************************** We don't talk on the drive back to his apartment but his right hand rests lightly on my knee as he drives, his thumb tapping me over and over, until my hand finally covers his. His thumb stills and we both let out long breaths that we hadn't even realised we were holding. He parks the car and I force myself to let go of his hand, not wanting to break the contact for even a moment. I sit on the bed as he pulls a bag from the closet. I stand then and move over to open the top drawer in the chest, taking out a t-shirt and a sweater and placing them in the bag. He moves to the bathroom, then returns tossing a toothbrush and toothpaste into the bag as I start adding socks and underwear. We do this in unison, almost as though we had rehearsed for this moment. Neither of us speaks, we both need this task to be over so that we can enjoy the time we have before he leaves in the morning. "Gloves, Mulder. It may get cold out there." He smiles as I hand him the gloves and there is such warmth in that smile that I feel my heart begin to ache. As a doctor, I know that heartbreak isn't a physical condition but at this moment, I wouldn't bet against it. We're finished and he zips the bag shut and swings it off of the bed and into the corner of the room. "You want to go out and grab some dinner, Scully?" I shake my head, "I just want to stay home tonight, Mulder." "Okay, but we'll order in. I want you to eat something, I don't want you getting all dizzy on me again." "Mulder, I'm f-" I stop myself before the words are out. Even though we don't know what's causing my dizzy spells and nausea, I'm obviously *not* fine and we both know it. Deep down, I'm terrified and I know Mulder is too, although neither one of us has said it. I promised him while we were in Oregon that I would get it checked out and now that we're home, I will. I'll wait for him to get back though, whatever it is can wait a couple more days and I want him to be here with me. We eat and I have to admit that I was hungrier than I thought. I saw Mulder watching me eat, almost counting every mouthful I took until he finally looked satisfied that I had eaten enough and turned his attention back to his own plate. I have to smile, even though his over protectiveness usually irks me. I know he's worried and I don't want him to worry about me, I just want him to concentrate on getting to Oregon and back again as soon as he can. "I say we forget about tomorrow and act like this is a regular Friday night. Deal?" I will try to forget, I don't want us to be unhappy tonight, I want us to enjoy this evening and each other, just like normal. I stand up, take his hand and smile at him, "Deal. Let's go to bed, Mulder." ********************************** I lie on the bed and watch him undress, my eyes travelling up and down his body, a body I never tire of admiring. It's nice to finally be able to be open in my admiration instead of sneaking furtive glances when he thinks I'm not looking. The only thing I regret is spending so many years wondering about that beautiful body before I actually got to see it for myself. I stop myself, I don't want *any* regrets tonight. His pants drop to the floor and he is left only in his boxers as he crawls across the bed to where I lie waiting, my eyes now on his, unable to look away. He unzips my skirt and slides it slowly off before throwing it to the floor and leaning in to unbutton my shirt. I think he's at the third button before I can resist no longer. I take his face in my hands and I kiss him softly at first before deepening the kiss, feeling him moan into my mouth as my shirt joins the rest of my clothes on the floor beside the bed and his hands begin to move across my bare stomach. We make love slowly, our eyes locked the entire time, as though we both need to savour this night, to commit the feel and taste of each other to memory. I don't need to do that, I know exactly how Mulder tastes, how he feels and how I feel when he's with me. We sleep and I'm sorry when the morning light wakes me because now it's time, he has to go. I keep telling myself it's just a few days but I don't seem to be listening. He is behind me, spooned tightly against me, his breath tickling the back of my neck. He makes no sound but he's awake, I know it. I sigh and he pulls me back so that there is absolutely no space between us, we are two people melted into one, joined at the heart. A roving hand tickles just below my navel and my stomach quivers, followed by a familiar rush of warmth. His teeth close over my neck and I know he is marking me, his last chance for now. His hand is still on my stomach and I reach down to cover it with my own, soothed again by the feel of our hands connected. "Skinner's picking me up at 9." "Mm hm. Mulder?" "Yeah?" "Do something for me?" "Anything." "Wear it, Mulder and I'll wear mine." "Scully?" "I don't care who knows anymore, I'm tired of hiding the one thing that's good in my life. I love you, Mulder." "I love you, too." ********************************** His bag sits on the floor beside the couch and looking at it is making me feel nauseous, or maybe I'm just nauseous again anyway. Mulder sits on the couch as I pace the floor. I'm driving him crazy, I know but in a matter of minutes I have to say goodbye with this awful feeling of dread deep inside and I'm not handling it too well. A knock on the door stops me in my tracks and as we look at each other, I swear I see a brief flicker of fear in his eyes before he makes it over to me in two strides and wraps his arms around me. I'm not crying but only because I'm fighting it with everything I have, because I'm afraid that if I start crying, I may never stop. Another knock on the door. He lets me go and takes a step back, leaving me feeling suddenly alone, even though he is just feet away. He opens the door to Skinner and steps back to pick up his bag at the exact same time that I move forward to do the same thing. We almost collide and something inexplicable happens then, instinct seems to take over. I grab him and kiss him quickly, yet so fiercely that I think I might kill him with my intensity. As we break apart, I see Skinner over Mulder's shoulder, a curious look on his face, part embarrassment I think, part shock. Again, we both reach for the bag and our fingers brush together. The light coming in through the blinds bounces off the identical gold bands on our left hands and I smile at him, a hopeful smile. He'll come home soon, he has to. END