From: "Chad K. Tanaka" <chadt@aloha.net>
Date: 30 Apr 1998 04:16:05 GMT
Subject: NEW: "Doves and Demons" 1/1 MSR

Title: Doves and Demons 1/1

Author: Chad Tanaka

e-mail: chadt@aloha.net

Rating: PG (some cursing, suggestive sexual themes) 

Category: SRA

Spoilers: Fifth Season, All Souls, Bad Blood, Demons, Travelers

Keywords: Mulder/Scully Romance, Angst

Summary: Mulder deals with unrequited love, while Secret Squirrel deals
with the loss of her daughter after the "All Souls" case. Mainly angsty
character sketches, with a romantic conclusion. Non-Shippers, avoid the
ending!

Disclaimer: Dana Scully and Fox Mulder are the property of Chris (Closet
Shipper) Carter, Fox Broadcasting and Ten-Thirteen Productions. The
characters have been used without permission for purely entertainment
purposes only. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Doves and Demons"

FBI Headquarters
March 30, 1998

He looked at her over the rim of the glasses perched upon the bridge of his
nose. She was concentrating intently on the report she was typing into her
computer. She didn't notice he was staring. He watched.

She's really beautiful, he thought. Incredibly, delicately, exquisitely
beautiful, he added.

Mulder completely forgot about the file he was studying, and laid it down
on his lap. He decided it was more enjoyable to just watch Scully work. If
food, sleep, and going to the bathroom weren't physical demands that he
couldn't ignore, Mulder was certain that he could sit here forever and
watch Scully do the most mundane things.

Geez, Mulder thought to himself. You really are a sap, aren't you? He
winced at his mental berating. The insane, dysfunctional man who doesn't
let people get close to him, is in love with his partner. Could I be in any
deeper trouble, Mulder asked himself. No, I'm toasted, Mulder decided. This
was worse than getting holes drilled into your head. Mulder smirked at that
thought. Yes, Mulder, he continued, you were always one sorry
son-of-a-bitch.

I'm completely head-over-heels in love with a woman who's as emotionally
dysfunctional as I am, he told himself. Mulder was reminded of the comment
made by Ronnie Strickland, the vampire who Mulder thought he killed a few
months ago. When Ronnie was picking up the sunflower seeds that Mulder
threw at him, he said, "You're in big trouble." That's exactly how he felt
right about now.

He didn't realize that he was really obsessing over her until Scully looked
over and said "What?" She had finally noticed his piercing stare.

She shocked him out of his reverie with a start. He sat upright in his
chair and said "Sorry, it's nothing. Just thinking about something." He
picked up his file and looked at it once again, not reading or
comprehending any of it.

Now it was Scully's turn. She gazed at her partner thoughtfully, trying to
decipher his strange behavior, which began shortly after the incident with
Eddie Van Blundht. Scully was trying to ignore Mulder's behavior because
she suspected that he was trying to work out his feelings for her.

Scully realized that her friendship with Mulder was a very special one,
built on trust, respect, and physical as well as mental attraction. Scully
wasn't an idiot - she had a feeling that Blundht's actions had shaken
Mulder to the core. She assumed that he was trying to sort out all the
facets of their relationship and decide which ones were more important than
others.

She kept her eyes on Mulder, who was guiltily trying to ignore her
scrutiny.

Scully decided after the incident that if Mulder actually did try
something, she would not resist. At the time, when she thought
Mulder/Blundht was going to kiss her, she was quite excited - simply
because it was what she wanted and also because of the exhilaration she
felt, knowing that after crossing the invisible romance line, the two of
them would be in uncharted territory. For someone as emotionally timid as
Scully was, she realized that she really cared for Mulder deeply to leave
herself so open.

Now she was just waiting for Mulder to make a decision. She valued the
friendship they had now. If Mulder didn't want to pursue Scully
romantically, she could live with that. Just working with him was enough.

She kept telling herself that.

Mulder finally looked up into Scully's eyes. He gave her a sheepish smirk.
He knew Scully had caught him.

"Do you want to talk about it, Mulder," Scully asked softly.

"I don't know," Mulder replied honestly.

Scully felt incredibly sorry for Mulder at that moment. It was obvious to
her that this decision was a painful and frightening one for him. He had
said to her many times that bad things always happened to the people he
loved. Samantha was taken from him, his father was murdered, and his mother
had a stroke - attributable to the stress of the conspiracy that Mulder
strove to uncover.

It was always his fault, he said to her. In the end, he told Scully that
she had suffered too much already because Mulder cared for her. He believed
that if he got any closer, Scully would someday be damaged - physically and
mentally - beyond repair.

To see Mulder in such pain tore Scully apart. She had to do something to
protect him, especially if she was the reason for his pain, she thought.

"Don't be afraid," she said to him, hoping to answer his thoughts. She
stood up from her desk and walked over to Mulder's. She stood next to him
while he was still sitting in his chair.

Mulder turned to Scully and buried his face into her stomach and hugged her
around the waist. To Scully, the embrace was intensely tender and arousing
at the same time. God, Scully thought. She loved this man, and damn her
weakness that she couldn't tell him that straight out. Damn the both of
them for being so screwed up.

She ran her hand through Mulder's unruly mane of hair. I could stay here
forever, Scully said to herself. She laid her free hand on his back and
rubbed it gently.

From her midsection she heard and felt a mumble from Mulder. The vibration
in his voice set off a tremor in the entire lower half of Scully's body. It
settled in a place that she knew was inappropriate for such a serious
moment. She felt a weakening in her knees. She almost missed what Mulder
was saying.

"What do you want from me, Scully," was all Mulder said. It wasn't tinged
with anger or sarcasm, so she assumed he was being as honest as possible.
She respected that.

"I want nothing from you Mulder, except for you to be happy," Scully said
tenderly. She gave him an honest answer.

"That's the problem. I don't know what will make me happy," was his answer.
The buzzing from Mulder's voice was really starting to interfere with
Scully's ability to concentrate, so she decided to extract herself from his
embrace. She lifted his chin and looked into his eyes.

"Right now - here - are you happy," she asked him.

"Yes," Mulder answered. She hoped he meant it.

"Then the rest is just gravy, right," she said in a rational tone. She
believed that. Everything else will just fall into place if it's right, she
told herself.

"Frosting on the cake, huh Scully? How can you think of food at a time like
this," he asked her with a gleam in his eyes.

Well, the tension is broken, she thought. But he still hasn't answered me.
Scully sighed and decided to give Mulder as much time as he needed. She
would be here for him.

Mulder looked into her eyes. As always, he felt mesmerized by the large,
ice blue pools that seemed to penetrate into his very soul. Sometimes, when
Mulder looked at her too closely, he fleetingly wondered if Scully was
hypnotizing him, making him fall in love with her. But as much a believer
in the paranormal as he was, he knew Scully wouldn't take advantage of him
like that if she could.

Love. He had experienced it in one form or another before. He had even been
married once. Seeing how tragically that marriage - and in fact all his
previous intimate relationships - ended, he realized that he didn't really
know what love was.

That was before the X-Files changed his life and his outlook on it. It was
before her. From that first time he shook her hand, he was hooked. He
instantly knew that the woman of his dreams had walked into his life.

For the first time, Fox Mulder knew True Love.

Many things had happened to them in the five years that they had known each
other. Some of it brought them closer together, some of it threatened to
tear them apart. But in the end, a real relationship had been forged, one
deeper than many marriages. They were, Mulder mused, true soulmates.

Then why hasn't the relationship progressed any further, he wondered. Why
couldn't they follow it to its inevitable conclusion? Mulder asked these
questions in his mind over and over. In the end, he always came up with the
same answer.

Fear.

It was the all-encompassing fear that both of them felt toward the prospect
of a truly intimate relationship that prevented them from becoming one in
body, as well as soul. The losing of one's self, the loss of independence,
and especially the uncertainty of what would become of their friendship
(not to mention partnership) were obstacles the both of them were not
willing to overcome.

This was the best he would be able to hope for, Mulder sadly concluded.

He shut his eyes against the pain, and hugged Scully again, tighter than
before.

Scully wrapped her arms around Mulder's head and held it gently. He removed
himself from her embrace and looked up into her eyes. Scully looked down
into his. She knew.

Silently, they agreed that Mulder had finally made his decision.

And they would have to live with it. As friends.

Residence of Dana Scully
Annapolis, Maryland
April 25, 1998

Scully looked down at the picture. She felt the familiar welling up in her
eyes. The emotional pain she felt was almost too much to bear, her sense of
loss was nearly unimaginable.

Dana Scully was living through the ultimate nightmare - coping with the
loss of a child. And what made it all the more painful, Scully thought, was
that Emily was truly a special and unique child.

And Emily was probably the last chance Scully would ever have to be a real
mother.

But, as she told the priest in confessional last week, she would have to
accept that her baby was gone. Her faith in God would have to be enough to
carry her through.

When Scully analyzed the events of two weeks past, she admitted that Father
McCue was right in saying that God had a purpose for everything that
happened. When she began having the visions of Emily, she could only react
in fear and shock. She wasn't sure why she was seeing her dead daughter in
the faces of those poor fallen angels.

But in the end, when she saw the last girl replaced by the image of Emily,
she recognized the reason for her visions.

Much like the fallen angels who were never meant to be, so was her
daughter. Emily was an unnatural creation and should never have been born.
For this reason, Scully had to let her go.

When Scully let go of her daughter's tiny hand for the last time, she knew
that it was a moment of closure. It was a moment of goodbye. Scully saw
Emily step into the light. She was going to heaven.

God would now watch over her precious baby, where no one could ever hurt
her again.

Scully lay down on her bed and cried silently to herself. She clutched
Emily's picture to her chest.

"I love you, baby," she said softly through her sobs. "Mommy knows you are
happy where you are."

And she smiled at that thought.

Bijou Theatre
Alexandria, VA

Mulder lurked in the shadows. He was plunged in darkness, very much like
the void in his soul.

The moans and cries emanated from the screen in front of him, but he paid
it no mind, just as he was not seeing the carnal images that accompanied
the sounds.

He absently stroked his erection through the denim of his jeans. It was out
of habit only, triggered by the external stimuli. His mind was elsewhere.

Normally, he would be thinking of his partner while he was doing this. He
was indeed thinking of Scully now, just not in that way. His problems of
months past had not gone away.

He still wanted Scully, desperately.

And here he was, jacking off to some two-bit porno flick. You really are a
sorry-son-of-a-bitch, he berated himself once again.

Mulder had always turned to pornography in one form or another to relieve
his sexual stress. He prided himself on being able to turn it into a
semi-hobby. He became a porno enthusiast of sorts. It was one of the few
interests he had outside of investigating the paranormal. Scully was aware
of it, and humorously tolerated it as Mulder's release valve.

If Scully knew what the real purpose of my obsession was, she'd probably
submit her request for transfer tomorrow, Mulder thought darkly.

Over the past few months, Mulder had turned to pornography with increasing
frequency. In the back of his mind, Mulder knew that it was in response to
his growing preoccupation with his partner. He couldn't stop thinking about
her. No matter how pure his love for her was, there was a part of him that
fantasized about Scully sexually, and it was driving him mad.

The more frustrated he got over his unrequited desires, the more Mulder
delved into the seediness of smut. He left his magazines and videotapes
behind. Now he began to frequent public moviehouses. His compulsive
behavior was even threatening to interfere with his professional life.

In an irony of ironies, a couple of weeks ago, he talked to Scully on a
payphone outside the moviehouse. She was asking for his help on an off-duty
investigation. Mulder shook his head slowly in the murky theater. It was so
pathetic - he blew off the very object of his desire just so he could get
back to watching a movie that was intended as a poor substitute for the
woman he had just gotten off the telephone with!

I'm insane, Mulder thought. I'm truly sick.

His mind drifted to Scully's case. She had come to believe that the
remaining missing quadruplets she was trying to locate were in fact,
"fallen angels," or nephalim, as ancient texts referred to them. Mulder had
gathered enough information from Scully to draw a picture of the situation.
Mulder was familiar with the stories of the seraphim (courtesy of an Oxford
education and an eidetic memory). In his experiences with the X-Files, he
was not prepared to dismiss Scully's evaluation outright, although his
religious prejudices admittedly clouded his acceptance of it.

Scully's stubbornness in investigating on her own - with minimal
"interference" from Mulder - put him on the defensive, adding to the
distance he had been creating between Scully and himself over the past few
weeks. The pain of not being able to act on how he really felt was so
intense, Mulder began to withdraw into himself and he tried to avoid
displaying any kind of affection towards Scully. He realized that only
served to make him seem aloof and emotionless during this recent case.

Poor Scully. She didn't even want to admit to her visions of Emily, almost
as if she couldn't trust me, Mulder lamented. When did I become a stranger
to her, he wondered. Why couldn't I comfort her and help her through it
like a friend? He could only bring himself to blame the stress and
closeness to the case as reasons for her "hallucinations."

I let her go to do things her way. But is that what she really needed from
me, he asked. He did the normal things, like providing her files and
following up leads, but where was I for her, really?

Ever since Scully told him of her final parting with Emily, she also seemed
to shrink away from Mulder. Her retelling of those final moments were
devoid of emotion, and she seemed hesitant to open up to him, as if she
were afraid of what he might say or do. She told him that his secular bias
was the reason for her reluctance.

But Mulder felt that wasn't the whole truth. He knew she no longer trusted
him completely. He wasn't the friend that she needed to count on when the
going got tough. In bearing the burden of her loss alone, Mulder knew he
was losing Scully.

And being just as alone in the darkness of a porno moviehouse, Mulder began
to cry...

Residence of Dana Scully
April 26, 1998

She saw the white dove take flight from the palms of her outstretched
hands. It fluttered briefly, mere inches from her face. The breeze blowing
over her was sweet and cool. It made her feel alive.

The dove then gracefully made its way up, higher and higher. She could hear
the sound of its beating wings. In it, she could faintly hear the dove's
call.

"I love you mommy," said the dove. "Goodbye for now."

And then the dove was gone, lost in the deep blue of the clear, cloudless
afternoon sky. She smiled, and a tiny tear rolled down one cheek.

Dana turned around in the field where she was standing and looked up to the
sun. The brightness made her close her eyes.

She opened them again to the sight of her bedroom, bathed in the glow of
morning sunlight.

Scully stretched her arms over her body, and yawned. She sat up in the bed.
It was a dream. Or was it really, she asked herself. After all I've seen, I
can't be certain anymore, she thought.

She fingered her cross idly, then looked down at it. A broad smile formed
on her lips. She believed the dream to be a message - sent by her sweet
Emily. The love she felt for her baby reached across the abyss.

"I love you too, Emily," Scully said quietly.

Scully got out of bed to get cleaned up. After she showered, she wondered
if she should make it to Sunday mass again. After a moment's thought, she
decided against it. Considering what she experienced recently, she wanted
to give herself some breathing room from her religious practices.

She had just started a pot of coffee and was looking through the morning
paper when she heard the knock. Normally, only one person called on her at
home. Scully wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing. The person
who was knocking had just as much a life as she did - meaning none to speak
of.

With a tiny sigh, she got up from her kitchen table and made her way to the
front door. She rose on her tiptoes and peered into the peephole.

God Mulder, she thought. You look like shit.

Scully threw the deadbolt and the chain and then opened the door.

"Morning, Scully," Mulder mumbled sheepishly. "Can I come in?"

She turned away from him before throwing over her shoulder a "Sure,
Mulder."

Mulder closed the door, then followed Scully to the kitchen area.

"Coffee," Scully said as she began pouring herself a cup.

"Thank you," Mulder replied as he took a seat on Scully's table.

She put a cup down in front of Mulder then sat opposite him. An
uncomfortable silence followed where the two avoided eye contact and
wondered who should speak first.

"So, Mulder," Scully finally said. "What brings you here on a bright and
early Sunday?" She looked at him. His eyes were bleary and his face was
heavily stubbled. Judging by his pained expression, she was pretty sure
Mulder was suffering from a hangover.

Mulder sat staring at his hands, which were flat against the tabletop.
After a long pause he spoke.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been behaving the past few weeks, Scully," he
muttered quietly. Then, as if deflating like a balloon, Mulder sagged back
into the chair and looked down at his feet.

Scully was confused. "Sorry," she said quizzically. "Sorry for what,
Mulder?"

Mulder raised his head and stared into Scully's eyes. She returned the
stare, trying to read the roiling emotions behind his hazel eyes.

Another long pause. "I can't take this anymore. I want us to be where we
were..." Mulder left the sentence unfinished and stood up suddenly. He
began to pace around the kitchen.

"But?" Scully said, trying to draw out the rest of Mulder's thoughts.

"But I'm losing my mind, Scully," he said loudly through gritted teeth. For
emphasis, he pounded a fist on her tabletop. The coffee cups jumped
slightly.

Scully remained passive. She had lived through several Mulder tirades
before. She would ride this one out.

"You're not making sense Mulder. You think that we've changed somehow. You
want it to go back to the way it was, BUT, something's driving you crazy,"
Scully calmly tried to reason with him. "Come on, fill me in."

Mulder whirled around and stalked into her living room. He ran his hands
through his hair, then laid them on the back of her sofa and leaned on it.

"Look," he continued, calmer. "I apologize. I know that you've had other
things to think about..." he trailed off as he peered at her desk in the
far corner. He saw a framed picture of Emily on it. Yes, Mulder, he
thought. She really does have better things to deal with than a stupid,
selfish, insane partner.

He turned back to Scully, who remained in her chair. He walked over to her
and stood before her. He reached out with his hand and touched her
shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I've been an asshole. I wasn't there for you when you needed me," Mulder
continued. He looked over at the picture on the other end of Scully's
apartment. "You opened up to me about your visions of Emily, and I didn't
give you the support you needed then,"

Now Scully could see where this was heading. She took both of Mulder's
hands in her own and looked up at him.

"Hey, I was the one who asked you to stay out of the way during the
investigation. I appreciated the fact that you respected my decisions," she
said soothingly to Mulder. "And playing skeptic to my believer isn't a
crime, Mulder." This drew a smile from him, and she found herself returning
it.

She stood up and hugged Mulder. She was surprised at the intensity with
which he returned it. He's really bothered by something, Scully sensed.

"What's the matter," she said, while stroking his lower back. Pressed up
against Mulder, she began to feel a hardness pushing against her abdomen.
She remained where she was.

Suddenly, Mulder pushed Scully away from him with his arms. She was forced
back into a sitting position on her chair. She looked at Mulder with
confusion. He moved to the other end of the kitchen and leaned on the
entryway.

"While you were suffering and coming to terms with the death of your only
child, I was sitting in a X-rated moviehouse, trying to escape from you,
Scully," Mulder said. He had revealed everything. Now she knew the extent
of his sickness. He closed his eyes tightly against the embarrassment and
shame.

Scully sat agape, staring at Mulder's back. She felt confused. What did he
mean, "escape from me," she wondered. She closed her mouth, which she
belatedly realized had been hanging open. She looked down at the tabletop.
She wanted to say something - anything. But nothing came to her.

She looked up to find Mulder heading for the door. She bolted out of her
seat. Just as he was opening the door to leave, Scully reached him.

She slammed the door on him and grabbed both of his arms. She turned him to
face her.

"Dammit Mulder," she scolded him sternly. "Don't run away from me anymore.
You...we've been doing too much of that lately." She glared at him, daring
him to defy her.

He sagged visibly once again. He turned and sat heavily on her sofa. She
joined him on the other side. She tucked her legs under herself and waited.

After a long silence, Mulder turned to her. "I know you don't need any of
this right now, Scully - " he began.

She interrupted him. "I'll decide what I need or don't need, Mulder," she
said, evenly.

He looked down at his hands again, before replying. "I know that we haven't
been open with each other recently," he said softly. "I could feel the
distance growing between us." Mulder looked into Scully's eyes. "Could
you," he asked her.

Despite the tumultuous events of late, she had indeed noticed. "Yes, I
have, Mulder," she answered.

"Did you ever wonder why, Scully," he asked.

Scully leaned forward and let her legs out from under her. She thought for
a moment. "No," she said, truthfully. "I just thought if there were really
something wrong, you'd tell me," she said. "And apparently, I was right."

Mulder let out a heavy sigh. "I've been having problems living with the
decision we'd made concerning...us," Mulder said.

Scully remembered that day in their office with bittersweet regret. She
still had a friend and partner, but at the time, she couldn't help feeling
she had lost something else somehow. She wondered if Mulder was now
admitting he felt the same way.

"What kind of problems are you having, Mulder," she asked. She gently
prodded him for more information.

Mulder opened his mouth, as if to speak. He shut it tightly and shook his
head. He looked away. After awhile, he said to Scully, "That suspect I was
tailing - the first time I called you about the Kernoff case," he looked at
her, silently asking if she recalled. She nodded.

"No suspect. I was actually in a porno theater in Alexandria," he told her
matter-of-factly.

When the look of confusion remained on Scully's face, he continued.

"I...I've been going there to..." Mulder turned away again, unable to
explain himself to Scully.

"It's all right, Mulder," Scully said, sympathetically. "Talk to me."

Mulder looked at Scully. He let out another sigh. "I've been going there to
forget about you, Scully. I...have feelings. Desires. I can't stop it,
Scully," he said.

It sounded to Scully like Mulder was developing some sort of
obsessive-compulsive disorder. Oh no, she realized. This is because of me,
she thought. Oh, God. How was she going to help him?

"Mulder, I..."

"I need help, Scully," Mulder pleaded. Scully actually thought she could
feel the pain radiating from his eyes.

She reached out and wrapped her arm around Mulder's shoulders. He stiffened
slightly, but Scully pulled him tighter.

"Don't worry," she whispered. "We'll work it out."

He turned to look at her. "I couldn't tell you...how I felt," he said
softly. "We were supposed to be friends. You don't need this, Scully."

She laid Mulder's head upon her shoulder with her hand. "It's all right,
Mulder," she said in a soothing tone. "I *am* your friend, and I'll help
you get through this." She didn't know how yet, but they had been through
much worse.

Mulder extracted himself from Scully's embrace and leaned back. He stared
at her desk, and the picture of Emily there. He blew out a frustrated
breath.

"What do you want from me, Mulder," she asked, the question was familiar to
both of them.

Mulder thought for a moment. He had selfishly caused Scully more pain and
suffering in addition to the grief of losing Emily again, and still she
still didn't hate him. She was willing to put her anguish aside for the
trivial problems of her psycho, horny partner. Why was he such a coward
that he couldn't tell her how he felt? He owed her so much more. He knew
what he had to do.

"I want you, Scully," he said firmly to her. "I'm in love with you, and I
always have been." There, he said it. Mulder looked into Scully's bright
blue eyes, uncertain of her response. He waited.

Scully always had a nagging feeling it was going to come to this someday,
but it still left her breathless and lightheaded. It still shocked her when
Mulder admitted to what she instinctively knew to be true. After she had
finally come to accept that friendship was all they were ever going to
have, Mulder had to go and turn that belief topsy-turvy.

It was classic Mulder, she thought.

The line is about to be crossed, she told herself. Who's going first?

Scully was a woman who wasn't afraid to take action once a decision was
made, so she raised her hands to Mulder's face and drew his lips to hers.

"I love you too, Mulder," she said breathily just before their lips met.

She felt the shiver travel throughout her entire body. She felt weak, as if
all her muscles were not responding to her brain. Scully felt the
tenderness, the hunger, and the joy in Mulder's kiss.

After all this time, after all the pain, happiness, desire and fear, this
is where it ends, she thought to herself.

And, Scully realized, this is also where it begins...

END

FADE TO BLACK

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Yes, yes. Some of you may think the ending leaves a lot to be desired. I
feel the same way, but I've been hit with writer's block, and I just wasn't
sure of what the conclusion should be.

So, I am respectfully requesting feedback on how you think this character
sketch should end. Should I have the couple consummate their love? Should I
have Scully back out at the last minute, because of her mourning for Emily?
Should I have Mulder go truly insane over his sexual problem? Come on,
influence the writer - heaven knows you can't do it to the real writers of
the X-Files. This is "interactive" fiction at its best!

Oh, and if you want to send feedback about the writing itself, those will
also be accepted gratefully! ;-)

Anyway, I hope you sort of enjoyed this scatterbrain Mulder/Scully Angst
story, inspired by the events in "All Souls." Drop me a line at
chadt@aloha.net if you are feeling generous!

P.S. - I think they really made a mistake in having Mulder blow off Scully
for a porn movie. It just made him seem very pathetic (as portrayed in my
story). I just kept on yelling at the TV, "You just hung up on a gorgeous
woman who loves you. What the hell are you doing?" I think CC and company
needs to rethink this angle, don't you?

Chad K. Tanaka
chadt@aloha.net