From: "A. Kelley Nolan" <akelleynolan@yahoo.com>
Date: Mon, 4 Sep 2006 13:47:44 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Kamikaze by A. Kelley Nolan
Source: direct

TITLE:  Kamikaze
AUTHOR:  A. Kelley Nolan
EMAIL:  akelleynolan@yahoo.com
DISTRIBUTION:  Wherever.  Just let me know.

RATING:  PG (with one R word)
CATEGORIES:  VR
KEYWORDS:  UST, Mulder/Scully romance, Scully POV
SPOILERS:  None

SUMMARY:  "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

Disclaimer:  Everybody in this belongs to somebody else.

Author's Notes:  While the title might lead you to think otherwise, 
this has absolutely nothing to do with either "Pusher" or 
"Kitsunegari."

*********************

Mulder had been quiet all day, and it was starting to worry me.  
Usually a night like the one we had last night brings out his 
postmodern caveman, and he is all subtle pleasure and restless energy 
and warm, knowing looks from under his lashes.  Today his eyes were 
shuttered, his hands idly spinning a pencil between his fingers, and 
even when I found his gaze on me I couldn't tell what he was thinking.  
It unnerved me.

"What's the matter?" I asked at last, and was slightly annoyed to find 
myself holding my breath.

He looked up at me, and I wished that he was just noticing me for the 
first time that day, instead of the expression that told me he had 
been waiting for me to notice him, waiting for me to approach.  The 
signal seemed pretty damn clear, and I wondered how I had missed it 
for so long.  His first words made me think I had probably wanted to.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore."  His voice was soft, even, 
and it was infinitely worse than if he had screamed at me.  I felt my 
stomach clench with sudden, limbic fear.

"This what?"  It was a whisper, but I was grateful any sound came out 
at all.

"This...thing we do.  This kamikaze sex, where we fall into bed for a 
night, or a few days, or a few weeks, get up alone, and then come to 
work like it's just...Tuesday," he finished weakly.  He frowned and 
shook his head, not happy with the way that came out even after 
thinking about it all day.

I felt a chill in the center of my chest.  I wasn't sure where he was 
going with this, but I knew that he was talking about one of the few 
refuges I had left.  Knowing that his arms were open any time I needed 
him, that they sought me when he needed me, that we could give each 
other with our bodies what we couldn't seem to say with words, was one 
of the things keeping me sane.  After one or two tries, I found my 
voice.  "Do you want to end it?"

"God," he sighed, his head tilted back to the ceiling, "that would be 
the only thing worse than keeping things like this."  He looked over 
at me, and he must have seen that I had frozen, must have seen the 
grief I was fighting very hard to keep from my eyes, because his gaze 
and his voice softened enough to let my heart start beating again.  
"I'm sorry.  I don't know what I'm saying.  I don't want to end it, 
Scully.  I'm not even sure I could.  I want you in my life far too 
badly."

Whatever was going through his mind was distracting him enough that he 
was forgetting to hide the expressions playing across his face.  
Regret was there.  Uncertainty.  A hint of fear.  And something raw 
and vulnerable that he was trying to cage behind his eyes with only 
partial success.  He had slipped into code, too.  Apparently all that 
thinking hadn't helped him figure out his next move, or even how to 
talk to me.  Practically trembling, I slipped into my accustomed role 
of codebreaker.  "Want me in your life how?"

Mulder went very still as his eyes found mine again, and I sucked in 
my breath.  I knew this stillness, had been lulled by it before.  
This wasn't deer in headlights, this was lions on the savannah.  This 
was a dangerous calm.  His voice was low and went straight down my 
spine.  "Are you asking what I accept, or what I want?"

I let that captured breath out slowly and stared into his eyes, which 
were giving away nothing except heat.  We've always done this, going 
from "what do you want for lunch?" to "if you had one hour to live, 
who would you apologize to?" in nothing flat.  I felt shaky.  "Is 
there a difference?"

He chuffed out a mirthless laugh, then swallowed it when he realized I 
was serious and not just pretending ignorance for mysterious reasons 
of my own.  He stood up and came around his desk, leaning against the 
front of it, very deliberately taking a barrier away from us.  
"Yeah," he said simply.  "There's a difference."

I hesitated.  I knew he wanted me to join him in the space between the 
desks, on the neutral ground he had claimed.  And I wanted to.  But 
jeez, the man is constantly pushing me just a little further than I 
feel like I can go.  I've built up muscles resisting him.  This didn't 
seem like one of those fighting times.  It seemed like time to take a 
deep breath, close my eyes, jump, and see if he would catch me.  I 
stepped carefully around my desk/table, meeting him in the middle.  
His posture didn't change, but I saw a flare of gratitude in his eyes.  
I leaned gingerly against my desk, wrapping my fingers tightly around 
the edge.  "I'm asking for the truth," I said quietly.  "All I ever 
want from you is the truth."

He looked at me for a long time, weighing my words.  I meant them, but 
we both knew it hasn't always been the case.  When he spoke, there was 
no hesitation, just a soft declaration coming fully formed from his 
lips.  He had thought these words before, untold numbers of times.  
"I accept whatever you're willing to give me, Scully.  Partners, 
friends, occasional lovers...I can live with that if I have to.  And I 
can be grateful for every minute I spend with you, every time I hear 
your voice, every touch, every shared moment.  But what I want...I 
want everything.  I don't want to do this for the night, or the week, 
or the month.  I want to do this for the rest of our lives."

His voice trailed off, and all I could hear was the blood rushing in 
my ears.  I had always known that this day would come.  It was 
inevitable the one day one of us would look at the other and say, Fuck 
it, I just want us to be together, and I can't think of a single 
goddamn reason why we're not.  I always assumed that, knowing it was 
coming, I would be prepared for it.  Instead, my mind was a complete 
blank, and I felt a disarming combination of liquid desire and stark 
terror as he moved closer to me, coming to stand in front of me.

Mulder's eyes are like the movie screen of his heart.  Everything he 
feels is projected there, and he's never figured out how to hide it.  
They were flashing half a dozen contradictory things, and I think it 
was seeing my own emotional maelstrom reflected there that kept my 
knees from sinking under me.  "Scully..." he breathed, his eyebrows 
pulling together in a slight frown of uncertainty, "I know we have 
this tacit agreement never to say the words.  As if the words would 
conjure it, like a golem, out of nothing.  But it's a lie, Scully."  
He shook his head, and I could feel the heat rising off his body.  
"It's a lie, and I'm so tired of it."

I found myself reaching up, touching his face with one wondering hand, 
letting my fingertips drift from his temple to his mouth.  I watched 
their progress, mesmerized, before I turned my eyes back to his.  
"Then tell me the truth."

A muscle in his jaw twitched.  "Are you sure?" he murmured, low and 
challenging.  "Because I won't take it back, and I won't pretend I 
didn't say it.  There will be nowhere to go but forward."

The words were full of courage, but he was holding his breath.  I 
brushed my thumb across his lips, swallowing hard.  "The truth," I 
whispered.

Mulder wasn't touching me, though I could tell he was desperate to.  
His hands were clenched in fists at his side.  He wanted me to hear 
just the words, not the desire in his touch.  His eyes were on fire, 
and I fought the urge to look away, to hide from what I saw there.  
Not because I didn't want it, but because I wanted it so badly that I 
was afraid reaching for it would make it disappear.  He was so close I 
could feel his warm breath stir my hair.

"I love you," he said softly.  I blinked, but I didn't move away.  He 
turned his head almost imperceptibly toward my hand, and I felt his 
lips brush my palm.  "I love you."  Stronger this time.  "I barely 
remember a time before you.  You're everything good and pure and 
honest in my life.  You've made me so much better than I am."  I felt 
tears slip down my cheeks, and he reached up then and brushed them 
gently away.  "All I want is you - all of you - heart, mind, body, and 
soul."

It was a long time before I could answer.  I was biting my lip to keep 
from hiccupping great shaking sobs while his hands tenderly caught the 
tears on my cheeks.  "You've had my mind for a long time," I managed 
at last.  "My soul for almost as long.  My body for just a little less 
time..."

"And your heart?" he whispered, fear creeping into his voice.  "Do I 
have that?"

The tears threatened to spill again.  He was so hopeful, so uncertain.  
How could he possibly doubt it?  "Oh, Mulder," I sighed.  "Don't you 
know that you do?"

He needed the words this time.  His hand moved from my cheek to rest 
on my chest, over my heart.  I could feel my pulse thudding against 
his palm.  "The truth," he breathed.  "Tell me."

I swallowed again.  I wanted to take his hand, clasp it to me, and 
kiss his trembling fingers.  Instead I reached up and covered his hand 
softly with mine.  "I think you've had that longer than any of the 
others," I said quietly.  "I love you, Mulder.  For so long..."

There were tears in his eyes, making them glitter impossibly green.  
I thought he would kiss me then, crush me to him, but as ever he 
surprised me.  He sank slowly to his knees, slid his arms around my 
waist, and laid his head against my stomach.  He undid me.  The 
tenderness of the gesture, the absolute trust of his embrace, made my 
heart swell and my tears overflow, and I wrapped my arms around him 
and bent my head to press my lips into his soft hair.  His arms 
tightened around me, his breath warming my skin through the fabric of 
my shirt.

I tried to remember what my heart had been like before I loved this 
man.  Smaller, I was sure of that.  Tougher.  Beyond that, I wasn't 
sure.  Loving Mulder, being loved by him, had stretched me, like a 
glassblower's ornament.  My heart had never been more beautiful, but 
now I knew it could shatter.  I know there was once a time when I 
wasn't so fragile, when nothing could touch me, before I loved him.  
There must have been a time when I didn't, but it is all so gray and 
indistinct in my mind.  Between the time when I hadn't met him and the 
time when I realized with agonizing clarity that I had given him my 
heart, there is a misty uncertainty that swirls in my memory like a 
dream.  And I woke from the dream to find he had wrapped himself 
around my soul, that I had threaded myself through his entire being, 
and that to separate us was to kill us.

He tilted his head to look up at me, his eyes like antique jade.  I 
cupped his face in my hands, and he instinctively nuzzled against 
them, the slight scratch of his beard making my palms tingle.  
"Everything I have," he whispered, "everything I am, is yours."

I felt the tears slip down my cheeks again as I bent to kiss him, 
tasting salt on his lips.  He tugged gently on my hips, and I slid 
down his body until we were both on our knees and he could pull me 
closer and slide his fingers into my hair and kiss me deeper.  I 
wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed against the warm, solid 
length of him.  I couldn't get close enough.  I wanted to disappear 
into him.

His kisses slowed and softened, and his lips brushed over my cheeks, 
my eyes, gathering up the last of my tears.  "I don't ever want you to 
cry again," he whispered, his breath on my skin making me shiver.

I let my fingers trail along his jaw and shook my head slowly.  "You 
can't take away all the tears in the world."

"No," he agreed, and turned his head into my touch, pressing his lips 
against my wrist.  "But I can take away the ones you cry for me."  My 
vision got blurry as the tears welled up again, and he kissed my eyes, 
catching them before they fell.  "I'll try, Scully," he murmured 
against my lashes.  "I promise.  I love you."

I reached up and kissed him again, drinking in the taste of his love.  
"Let's go home," I pleaded into his mouth.

There was a flicker of confusion in his eyes.  "It's early -"

I cut him off with another kiss, and when I was sure I had his 
attention I drew back just enough to meet his gaze.  "Mulder, I can't 
sit here across the room from you for the rest of the day and talk 
about mutants and conspiracies.  Not today.  Please."

He looked into my eyes for a long time, searching for something, and 
he must have found it.  He nodded slowly, then drew me into his arms.  
I let myself be cradled, his warmth and strength surrounding me.  His 
hand held my head against his chest, and he stroked my hair gently.  
"I'm going to say something way too intense," he warned me.

I smiled into his shirt.  "Won't be the first time."  I felt the low 
rumble of his chuckle beneath my cheek.

"This is it for me, Scully," he said softly.  "'Til death do us part.  
You should know that..."

Oh, Mulder, the things you do to my heart.  "I do know," I whispered, 
slipping my hand up to his neck.  "It is for me, too.  It has been for 
a long time."

I felt his lips on my hair, my forehead, and then he drew back enough 
to kiss me.  It was soft, and intense, and it went on forever, just 
the two of us clinging to each other on the floor of our office, 
stealing each other's breath, pouring wordless confessions into each 
other.  Finally we parted, and I saw the desire battling the 
tenderness in his eyes.

He stood up and pulled me to my feet and into another slow kiss.  
"Let's go home."

"Yours or mine?" I asked against his lips.

He shook his head, kissed me softly, and one arm slipped around my 
waist and drew me close against him while his other hand came up and 
settled warmly on my chest, over my heartbeat.  "This is my home," he 
murmured, his eyes blazing.  "Wherever your heart is."

My breath caught in my throat.  I slid my hand behind his neck and 
pulled him down to me.  "I love you," I breathed.  "And my heart wants 
to take you home with me, and wrap itself around you, and tell you 
secrets, and make love to you all night long."

He drew back and looked at me with that expression that makes my 
stomach feel warm and my heart do a little flip.  "I can live with 
that," he smiled.  "As long as there's a tomorrow."

"I'll see your tomorrow and raise you one forever."  The tears were 
threatening again, but I bit my lip to force them back, and he pulled 
me back into his arms.

"Forever," he agreed with a small sigh of pleasure.  "Yeah, I can live 
with that."

-Fin-