From: Annette Gisby Date: Fri, 13 Aug 1999 14:13:31 +0100 Subject: NEW: "The last Kiss" MSR TITLE: The Last Kiss AUTHOR: Annette Gisby EMAIL: annette.gisby@which.net CATEGORY: MSR, Vignette FEEDBACK: yes please! ARCHIVE: Yes, just keep my name and email attached. "If this is the last kiss Let's make it last all night." Meat Loaf THE LAST KISS (1/1) I'm shaking. I'm actually shaking with the force of my rage. They can't do this. They just can't. But my rage is futile. They can and they will. They are splitting us up. The X-files are to be closed, no chance of re-instatement. Mulder and I are to be assigned to different sections. Mulder is to go back to violent crimes and I am stuck teaching at Quantico. We are not to associate with each other. It's felt we are too *close* and it was affecting our work. It's rubbish and Skinner knows it. This is just an excuse to get rid of us without having to pay severance money. I know Mulder won't stay if he's no longer partnered with me, and I'm having doubts myself. We only trusted each other, how could we work with anyone else? I know that our re-assignments have nothing to do with Skinner. It comes from higher up. From the nameless, faceless *THEM* who are out to destroy us. Am I sounding a bit paranoid? Maybe, but I know this is down to *THEM*. Is it paranoia when it's the truth? And you want to know the worst bit? *THEY* think we've been involved romantically since our very first case. God, what a waste. We could have had six years, but now we'll not even have six days. We were never involved, not like that. Oh, I know we thought about it. A lot. The nearest we came to it was an aborted kiss in Mulder's hallway. But it isn't because *THEY* think we are lovers that they want to split us up. No, it's because we've finally gotten too close to the truth that we've spent six years chasing, and they can't have that, can they? "You're going to leave, aren't you?" I ask Mulder as I try and gather up some of my belongings. There is a stone lodged in my chest. I can't cope with this, I can't. Never to see him again. Never to hear him joke about our latest case. Never see him eating those sunflower seeds that get into everything. I feel the tears threaten and I turn away. I don't want him to see me crying. I want to be strong. Strong, dependable Scully. That's me, isn't it? So why do I feel I want to curl up in a corner and bawl my eyes out? I feel Mulder's hand on my shoulder and I can't hold back any longer. I turn and sob against his chest, my fingers tightening around his suit jacket, as thought by holding onto his clothes I can hold onto him. But it's no use. He's as elusive as a grain of sand trickling through my fingers. "Ssh, Scully, it's okay," he whispers as his hands smooth over my hair. My heart aches. No, it's my soul that's aching. Half of my soul is being torn away from me and I know I'll never recover. How can I recover when half of me is missing? "Don't go, Mulder," I plead between sobs. "I have to, Scully. You know that." I know it and the knowledge sticks in my throat. It makes sense for us to part. We're probably still being watched. Mulder doesn't want to put me in danger. But I don't care. I want to have him. Just once. Surely no-one could begrudge me that? I reach up on tip-toes and kiss his cheek. There's wetness there, he's been crying too. I turn my head and kiss him full on the mouth. He deepens the kiss and I reach my arms around his waist, pinning him to me. I don't want to let go. I never want to let go. We could have had six years of this, why did we wait so long? I feel Mulder harden against me and he pushes me away. "We can't, Scully. We can't." "Mulder, please! If I can't have you forever, let me have you tonight. I know you have to go, but please, don't deny me this. I know you want to." "Of course I want to! That isn't the point. Do you want to get us killed?" "I'd die for you, Mulder. I know you'd do the same for me." He stares at me for a long time, his hands on his hips, as though he's about to reprimand me for some misdemeanour. I feel his gaze on my face and then it travels downwards. He caresses the whole of my body with his eyes and I feel myself flush with desire. His eyes are a combination of green and grey and I want to drown in those depths. "Okay," he finally agrees, his voice husky. "But not here. I'll go to your apartment after work." I nod, hoping I can hold out that long. I'm hoping something else as well. I'm hoping that wasn't our last kiss. I'm hoping it was the first. END