From: hotfusionman@my-dejanews.com Date: Sun, 19 Jul 1998 05:33:14 GMT Subject: NEW MovieFic: Everything I Wanted (1/1) This micro-vignette (is it possible for my pieces to get any shorter?!) started out in a different direction, now forever lost to history. I figured that the one month anniversary of the movie's U.S. opening would be an appropriate deadline for posting it. I've only seen the movie twice, so I'm sure the dialogue at the outset of this piece is imperfect (the novelization is sufficiently different that I can't trust it fully). I'd be grateful for any feedback with corrections, for accuracy's sake. DISCLAIMER: Of course I don't own any of these characters. I'm just taking them out for a spin and leaving them in a better place than I think their owners (Chris Carter and 1013) did. The title and lyrics are borrowed from the song "Everything I Wanted" by The Bangles. Al Title: Everything I Wanted (1/1) Author: Albert Chou E-mail address: Al_Chou@CyberDude.com Rating: G Category: V, R Spoilers: "Fight the Future" Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: A (very) brief exploration of a somewhat dangerous subject, a few steps (literally) past M&S's final scene in the movie. "How many times have we been here? Right here. So close to the truth, only to land right back at square one? You're right to leave. You should get away from me. As far as you can. Go be a doctor, Scully." She shook her head. "I will. But not now, not yet." My eyes narrowed as she went on. "This illness, whatever it is, has a cure. You held it in your hand -- how many lives could we save?" She paused momentarily. When she had said "it", I could only think, "I held *you*..." -- a whisper in my mind as my anger ebbed and a wave of melancholy overcame me, a lamentation for so many things that had come so close, but had never been. She took my hand and repeated my earlier words. "If I quit now, they win." If the conviction in her words hadn't been enough to convince, then the knowing, imploring look she gave me for just an instant after uttering those words would've clinched it. Scully was back. Stunned, suspended between incredulity and elation at her decision, I walked with her for the better part of a minute. Then I regained my senses, if not my equilibrium, enough to raise an important and perhaps dangerous subject. There hadn't been time enough before -- half frozen and almost beyond hope when we were picked up by the Gunmen (bless their paranoid little hearts, and Skinner's connections), neither of us had been in any condition to hold anything like a substantive conversation during the entire trip back to DC. Scully was amazing as usual, recovering enough from her ordeal to face the OPR committee in less than a week (whereas I had to put on a brave face to hide the fact that my joints -- and everything else, for that matter -- still ached like hell). But during my visits at the hospital we had managed, also as usual, to make only small talk and sit in companionable silence. I stopped so abruptly that she continued another two steps before my grip on her hand brought her to a sudden halt as well. She turned her head to look at me, a tiny frown querying the reason for the unexpected stop. At arms' length, I considered her face a moment. I had no idea what to say, but the strength of my emotion improvised on its own behalf. I squeezed her hand. The frown melted into a slight upturn at one corner of her mouth, an acknowledgement of my nonverbal reassurance-cum-question. She waited. I studied her face again, so beautiful despite the temporary ravages of our Antarctic ordeals. How did she manage that? My thoughts, already a jumble, began to blur, just as the vision of her face did as tears started to well in my eyes. My world began again to collapse down to that now-familiar kernel of loss and keening remorse at what my selfish crusade had almost done to her, so many times. Now her expression turned to surprise and concern. Still at a loss for words, I was grateful that I didn't really need them. My hand squeezed hers again, the grip so filled with overwhelming regret that it became almost painfully hard. But she held steady, pressing back on my own hand, though her eyes still bespoke her surprise and incomprehension. I could do nothing else; I needed so badly to reassure her, to comfort her, to apologize, to promise I would never see her hurt again. Taking a half step toward her, I drew her in with a gentle tug on the hand that was holding mine. Puzzlement still filled her eyes as I cupped her precious face with my free hand and smiled a sad, tender smile. Puzzlement turned to wide-eyed astonishment as I gave in to the rapidly mounting urge to place a tender, reassuring kiss on her lips. I could both feel and hear her short, surprised intake of breath as my lips brushed hers. And then she surprised _me_. She kissed me back. "You were standing like a statue in the light And it looked just like perfection in my eyes When you spoke I staggered from the blow Once I touched I never could let go, oh This is what I waited for "Oh, oh, oh Everything I wanted Oh, oh, oh Everything I wanted For a while..." - The Bangles, "Everything I Wanted"