From: "Beth Bradford" Date: Fri, 18 Jun 1999 00:19:15 -0700 Subject: Hard to Do III: Breaking Up Title: Hard To Do III: Breaking Up Author: Beth825 (Beth825@england.com) Rating: R for language Category: SR Spoilers: Fire, Fight The Future Keywords: Mulder/Scully Summary: Our Agents are in trouble, this time by their own doing. Third in the 'Hard To Do' series. Notes: Third in the 'Hard To Do' series, after 'Shaking Up' and 'Waking Up'. If you need either, just ask. It started out so simple, and now the monster has grown. Thanks for keeping the faith and reading this junk. Disclaimer: Go ahead and sue me, you can have my dust collection and 68 cents. He's done it again. I swear to myself that this will be the last time. I really did not want to be stuck alone with the sheriff in Hickson... I mean Dickson, Tennessee. The man just didn't understand that a woman could be in the law enforcement fi eld as anything but a secretary. But Mulder ran off on his own again and left me with the yokel. "What's a pretty little lady like you doing chasing after monsters?" Get a life. "You shouldn't be putting yourself in danger like this, you should be at home raising babies." That struck just a bit too close to home and I had to leave. I went ba ck to the hotel and packed. I didn't even bother to leave Mulder a note. He could deal with it later. So now I'm sitting on a plane, headed back to D.C. Goat-men? Yeah right. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Mulder, sometimes I think you need to have your head examined. The one on your shoulders. I've examined the other one often enough lately. That thought gives me pause. We've been lovers for almost two months. Never while we're on a case. No, that wouldn't be right. We can't sleep together on government time. But when we're in D.C between cases... That thought makes me shiver. He knows my body so well, as if he had learned what I like and when before we ever got involved. Or could he just be that experienced? My mind goes to Phoebe Green, his old lover from Oxford. The bitch had loved mind games, but she also taught him a thing or two about the female anatomy. I suppress the urge to retch and think about Mulder's experience again. He has - check that, he *had* no social life to speak of before we got involved. I don't know the last time he had a date other than his right hand. But then again, I don't remember the last time I did, either. My gaze rests on my hands folded neatly in my lap, and I think about where those hands have been. They kept me company long enough, and then Mulder was thrown into my life. Into my bed. I can remember the feel of his skin, the curls on his chest a nd lower, his unshaven cheeks at 3 a.m. My eyes drift shut and I lean back against the airplane seat. Dammit, Dana, stop thinking like this. If you don't, you'll be all over him again as soon as you see him. I admonish myself sternly and tell myself that I'm going to call it off the next time we have a chance to sit down and talk. I hear the 'Fasten Seat Belts' sign flash on, and I sit up. I hate flying, always have, and I'm glad the flight is over. It was only about an hour from Nashville to Baltimore, but now I have to endure an hour's drive home because I wanted the first flight that went anywhere close to D.C. I spend the drive lost in thought, staring out the taxi's window, but not seeing the landscape in front of my eyes. The last time I was mad at him, he ended up making love to me. My mind drifts to the first time we were together and I smile slowly. But then I realize what I'm thinking and I sober. He won't coax me out of this with sex. Not even with mind-blowing, earth-shattering, wall-shaking, good-enough-to-die-for sex. Not for the fuck of my life. Which of course, Mulder is. But this time, I swear that I will stay mad at him. At least until he persuades me not to. He always does. But this time, I won't let him persuade me with sex. Not with anything physical. That puppy dog look, his touch, his kiss. We've arrived at my building and I pay the driver, lugging my bags up to my apartment. The suitcases are left in the foyer as I walk to the bedroom, stripping of my shoes, jacket, and pantyhose. That feels better. I flop down on my bed again, extremely tired. I haven't exactly been getting all the sleep I require lately. If it's not a case keeping me awake, it's Mulder. The man is insatiable. Before long, I'm asleep on top of the covers. I don't hear my cell phone ring, nor the phone beside my bed. I don't even hear the knock at my door a few hours later. What awakens me is the sound of Mulder's voice. I thought I was dreaming it. He was moaning my name as he... no, not moaning, saying it frantically. "Scully? Scully, wake up. Can you hear me? Wake up, baby." I open my eyes reluctantly to find Mulder holding onto my upper arms, gently shaking me. "What the hell do you want, Mulder?" I ask sleepily as I become aware of my surroundings. If he says me, I'll belt him one. "You..." He pauses and my fist tightens. "... left me." His voice is small, like a lost child. "Smart boy, did anyone have to help you with that?" I don't know what brought that on, and I regret it the instant I say it. He drops my arms and I fall slightly back to the bed. He looks like a wounded animal. "No. No, Scully, they didn't. I went back to the sheriff's office and you weren't there. You weren't at the hotel. I - I looked everywhere. You didn't answer your cell phone, and you didn't leave me a note. I didn't know where you went. So I w rapped up the case and flew back here on the first flight I could find." He lowers his gaze and his voice. "I did it again. I'm so stupid, Scully, you don't deserve me. I'm not good enough for you." "Mulder, you're right." He looks at me in surprise, not expecting me to agree with him. So I sit up to face him. "You did it again. And I'm mad at you." Boy am I mad at him. "I think maybe..." I take a deep breath to steady myself. This is a hard task. "Maybe we should cool off." He looks at me as if I just shot him again. He's biting his lower lip as if to keep from crying. "Scully, I'm sorry, I... I don't want us to end. Don't do this to me. I couldn't take it. I couldn't go on without you." He drops his head. "I don't know what else to say. I really am sorry." I sigh and force myself to say it. "Mulder, sometimes 'sorry' doesn't cut it." He makes a move to kiss me and I push him away more roughly than I intended to. "No, Mulder. Not this time. You can't make up to me by making love to me. It's not th at easy." "Love isn't supposed to be easy, is it, Scully?" He loves me? Is that what I heard? "Mulder? Did you just..." I can't finish the sentence. His eyes meet mine, his gaze unwavering. "I love you, Scully. With all my heart. I always have." I can't say anything because there are no words in my mind. Mulder just told me he loved me. Oh. My. God. Oh my God. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod. I fall back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. Damn you, Fox William Mulder. Damn you for running out on me. Damn you for dismissing my scientific theories. Damn you for making me fall in love. I blink several times, trying to understand what I just thought. The ceiling still needs to be painted, I should call a painter. The faucet in the bathroom is dripping, I should call the plumber. And I love Mulder. Who do I call for that one? Missy, what do I do? I silently ask my sister. You'd know if you were here. I love him and I'm furious with him. I can't tell him, because then I wouldn't be able to break it off. But he's already said it. I know he's telling the truth, I saw i t in his eyes. I can't deny him my love now that he took the risk of saying it. But I always give. He takes. Like in Dickson. Being selfish again, running off without me. He was just eager, over-excited. He's passionate, Dana. Arguing with myself is like arguing with Missy. He gives when you're in bed. He's never let you be unfulfilled. He protects you. He's always protected you from serial killers and monsters and weirdoes. And when he's needed you, you've been there for him. You give and take equally. You're *partners* Dana, that's what the word means. You piss each other off and take care of each other. Care for each other. "Scully?" he whispers. "Dana?" He sounds scared and I know I've been silent too long. I look at him. "Yeah, Mulder, I'm still with you." He breathes a sigh of relief, probably thinking I was ignoring him so that he'd go away. I sit up again, and take one of his large hands in my small ones. He's so big. I never realized it before, but he could squish me if he wanted to. Maybe that's why I feel safe in his arms. He could hurt me if he wished, but he only treats me with the tenderest of caresses, the softest of touches. He does protec t me, even in the heat of passion. He really loves me. If he didn't, why would he protect me? Suddenly, I realize that I have no choice. I came home with the intent of breaking it off, but now instead, I'm saying... "I love you, Mulder." His smile is enough to melt the IceQueen. I've never seen him this happy. He's like a little kid at Christmas. "But I don't know how long it will take me to get over this." His face sinks again when I say that. "Scully, don't do this to me. To us." He's desperate and I don't care. I want to make him hurt like he hurt me. "No. Mulder, I need time. Give me a week and then I promise I'll be ready to deal with everything." He looks like he's trying not to cry, but he doesn't argue. He nods silently and straightens slightly, putting on that unreadable mask he adopts so easily. I silently curse myself for forcing him to adopt that expression again. He only uses that f ace when we're working or when he doesn't want me to know what he's thinking. I know what he's thinking, though, and I know I'm right. Right? He turns to leave and now I have to fight to keep myself from asking him to stay. We both know where we would have ended up if I hadn't been so damn strong willed, and for a moment I think that may have been better. And then he's gone, my front door shutting just a little too quietly. Somehow, I know he's headed to Casey's, his favorite bar, to get drunk. Hell, I could use a couple shots of vodka right now. When did things become complicated? I turn over and bury my face in my pillow and start sobbing. I'm asleep within half an hour. X X X X X X X X X X X X X X X