From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 27 Sep 2006 19:25:19 -0000
Subject: Eventually by Caroline McKenna
Source: direct

Reply To: cmckenna1121@yahoo.com


Title: Eventually
Author: Caroline McKenna
Email: cmckenna1121@yahoo.com
Feedback: Always appreciated
Rating: PG
Category: SVR
Disclaimer: Not mine. El fin.
Summary: They would get there eventually. 
Post-ep for Fight the Future.
Author's Note: It's been a really, really 
long time since I've done this and it's 
pretty much off-the-cuff and unbetaed. Be 
gentle.


They walked along the reflecting pool, hands still clasped, apathetic 
to the possibility of being seen by other agents. It didn't matter 
now, it never had. She had come close enough to death enough times to 
realize that very little really mattered and that holding hands with 
Mulder in a public place was a rather small issue to worry herself 
about. She laces her fingers through his, catching the look of 
surprise that he throws at her. She smiles, a little for herself and a 
little for him. She is alive and she is with her partner. These two 
things were reason enough to smile.
      
He stops walking and she pauses beside him, looking up at him, 
curious.

"Hungry?" he asks, still grasping her hand. He runs his thumb up and 
down hers absently as he waits for her answer and she is struck by how 
normal this is. The two of them, looking at each other, deciding what 
to do for dinner while he caresses her hand with his own. She wonders 
if this will ever become routine for them, if they will ever cross the 
line drawn in sand.

She remembers his hallway, the dim lighting and the way it reflected 
as the moisture pooled in his eyes. She remembers the way he looked at 
her, pleading with her not to leave, as if her doing so would steal 
the breath from his lungs. She remembers holding him, kissing his 
forehead and knowing that, all things considered, she would still quit 
the FBI if only because she wanted to remain in DC with him. She 
remembers his mouth descending to meet hers, her lips opening in both 
surprise and acceptance, only to be stopped by the harsh prick in her 
neck.

She smiles again, and he looks at her with confusion probably because 
he's seen her smile twice in the space of a couple of minutes, both 
times at him. His gaze is laced with an underlying tenderness that had 
always been there, but that she had only recently recognized. Yeah, 
they'll cross the line.

"Sure, Mulder. What did you have in mind?" She keeps her tone casual, 
as his was, not wanting to belie her inner clarity so soon. They would 
get there, she was sure of it. They were half there already, lovers in 
every sense excluding the physical. That much would come in due time. 
He had kissed her in that hallway, with his words, with his eyes, with 
his embrace. He had meant to kiss her with his lips as well, and she 
had meant to return his kiss, but the logistics had interfered. The 
important thing is that the intent was there. The logistics would 
follow eventually.

"Chinese? Pizza? Fried chicken? Hamburgers? French fries? Any other 
artery-clogging food? Take your pick, Scully." They begin walking 
again, back towards the car, moving in synch, in a rhythm they seemed 
to know instinctively.

"How generous of you Mulder, all those choices," she says dryly, "How 
about we go to your place and call up China Garden and have them bring 
by some Mongolian beef?"

He grins at her. "Sounds good to me."

She offers no response, walking the rest of the way to his car in 
silence, contenting herself with the intimacy of holding his hand.

He opens the passenger door of the Ford Taurus and she reluctantly 
removes her fingers from his, getting into the car with a quick ' 
thanks.' He closes her door and jogs around the front to the drivers 
side, throwing the door open and thrusting his key into the ignition. 
Throwing an arm around her headrest, he looks behind them and 
maneuvers the car out of the tight parking space he had barely managed 
to squeeze into earlier. When they had safely entered the roads of DC, 
he dropped his hand from the back of her seat, letting it fall on the 
consol between them. Her gaze falls to it, and she debates covering it 
with her own. She doesn't want to lose whatever connection they had 
established in the preceding moments, doesn't want to sever whatever 
it was that had bonded them in their conversation near the reflecting 
pool.

Without further thought she places her hand over his. He doesn't look 
up, but she can see the corners of his mouth curve slightly upward and 
she knows she has made the right choice. Their hand-hold at the 
reflecting pool had been opportunistic- she had grabbed it to 
emphasize a point and neither of them had let go. But this time, there 
had been no point to make.

She furrows her brow when he turned his hand over to clasp hers. As 
much as she wants it, she knows that this is dangerous. They were 
tempting fate, playing with fire. It would be so easy now to mess this 
up, to let lust and emotion propel them too far past the line.

Their friendship and their partnership are so strong, able to 
withstand the greatest outside evils. They had made it through 
abduction, through cancer, through various mutants and serial killers. 
None of that had phased them. It was when things became personal that 
their partnership showed signs of weakening. Eddie van Blundht had 
made things awkward at the office, and she knew that every time in the 
following month that Mulder looked at her, he had seen the two of them 
on the couch, dangerously close. Ed Jerse had hurt him, had angered 
him, had damaged their communication. It was hard to communicate when 
they barely looked at each other. And the Diana incident had nearly 
disintegrated them, pushing Scully to her limits and hurting her more 
than she had thought possible.
      
So what would getting personal, really personal, do to them? Would 
they let themselves hurt each other, let themselves slowly tear their 
partnership and their friendship apart? For the sake of what?
      
He squeezes her hand, as though sensing her anxiety, and she remembers 
why it is worth the risk. She loves him, and he loves her. It doesn't 
matter than neither had said the words. He had gone to Antarctica, the 
literal end of the earth, for her- she doesn't need fancy 
declarations. He loves her and that is enough to make it okay, to make 
it worth it.
      
They pull up to his apartment building and park. He squeezes her hand 
once and lets go.

"So do you want eggrolls with your Mongolian beef?" he asks. She 
doesn't answer and instead opens the car door and walks up to the 
front door with purpose. He is looking at her quizzically, but she 
doesn't pause, filled now with intent, with purpose. She knows her 
silence and her quick pace puzzle him, and part of her likes that he 
is clueless.
      
She climbs the four flights of stairs to his floor, Mulder in tow. 
Glancing to make sure he is behind her, she stops her hurried steps in 
the hallway outside his apartment door and turns to face him.
      
"Scully, wha-"
      
"Listen to me, Mulder," she interrupts, "I didn't quit the FBI because 
I was leaving you. I quit the FBI so I wouldn't have to move to Utah, 
so I wouldn't have to leave you. Because you, Mulder, you make me a 
whole person too." She smiles feebly, the tears pooling in her eyes.
      
She nearly laughs at the sight of him- he is wearing something akin to 
the panic face, like he can't believe the words that have come out of 
her mouth. Truth be told, she hardly believes it herself. Yes, it was 
her intention to tell him, but part of her had still expected to duck 
out at the last minute, to continue to his apartment, pick up the 
phone, and order Chinese food without so much as a word regarding her 
feelings.
      
She pulls him into a hug, curling her arm around his neck and pressing 
her body to his. She feels the spark between them, the energy that has 
always been there. She smiles and brings her lips to his forehead, 
mimicking her actions of the previous week. He understands now and 
rests his forehead against hers, stroking her cheek with his thumb. 
They separate and are back at that crucial point, only this time she 
knows there is no insect lurking in her collar.
      
"Here we are," he murmurs, smiling at her.
      
She nods. "Here we are." A pause."Kiss me, Mulder."
      
He moves toward her slowly, giving her room to back away should she 
choose to do so. She smiles with her eyes. Silly man. Doesn't he know 
by now that she wants this, wants him? She stands on her tiptoes and 
closes the distance between us, bringing her lips to his.
      
The first touch is electric, hesitant and new. He pulls away after a 
few seconds, looking at her with questions in his eyes. 'Oh, Mulder,' 
she thinks, 'When will you ever learn?' She smiles and pulls his head 
back to hers, kissing him this time with passion, with the longing 
that she has felt since she held his hand outside of Robert Modell's 
hospital room. She kisses him sweetly, moving her lips against his, 
and she feels him respond in kind, all hesitance of the first kiss 
forgotten.
      
He opens his mouth to her probing tongue and she enters, massaging his 
lips and stroking his mouth, eager to be close to him. He pulls her 
tighter against his chest and she angles her head to get better access 
to him. He tastes like sunflower seeds and she smiles into the kiss. 
It is so incredibly like him, to taste like sunflower seeds, so 
incredibly real. His tongue meets hers, first caressing and then 
battling for control of the kiss. She relinquishes to him, and he 
invades her mouth, kissing her in every way she can imagine. For a 
moment she panics, as the kiss becomes more passionate, more anxious, 
but she remembers that she loves him and so she kisses him back with 
equal fervor, pressing him against the wall.
      
Her hands are in his hair, and his are roaming her back and there is 
no space between them. He rips his mouth from hers, taking in breath, 
and he kisses her again, barely allowing her time to inhale her own 
oxygen. They sink slowly to the floor, and she touches every bit of 
him that she can reach.
      
"Mulder," she murmurs between frenzied kisses. "Oh, Mulder."
      
When the pace slows, smiles against his mouth, nearly laughing at the 
ridiculousness of it all. After five years, it happens here, in his 
hallway. Not on a stakeout or at dinner or at her cousins' wedding 
last month. Here.
      
"What's so funny?" he asks, a goofy grin on his face.
      
"God, Mulder," she laughs, pressing her cheek to his chest, "Did you 
ever think we'd end up here?"
      
"Always, Scully. Now whaddya say we go inside and order some Mongolian 
beef?" He stands, pulling her up with him.
      
"And we have to lay out some ground rules for this thing," she adds, 
following him to the door.
      
He groans and looks at her, pouting. "Awww, Scully, really?"
      
She grins. "Yes, really. You wouldn't love me if I didn't love rules."
      
He cocks an eyebrow and opens the door to his apartment and walks 
inside. "Oh, yeah? What makes you think that I love you?"
      
"You do, Mulder." She follows him into the apartment and toes off her 
shoes at the doorway.
      
"Sure. Fine. Whatever."
      
She closes the door behind her and kisses him. She knew they'd get 
here eventually.