From: Dana Scully Date: Thu, 22 Apr 2004 15:37:49 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Fanfic!! Source: direct Title: Letting The World go By. Author: Katie Sims. Feedback: PLEASE I want feedback. I know that most people read this and go... oh, well, she wants feed back, maybe someone else will send it, after I read this, I'll just go to another story... but please let me know how I am doing. Rating: pg-13 for language, I guess...probably not... but... oh, well... and implied "activities." ::wink wink:: Spoilers: All Things, and everything leading up to it I suppose. Keywords: Scully POV, and Mulder POV. Summary: They are content to just let the world go by. Disclaimer: These just basically acknowledge that these characters (Fox Mulder, Dana Scully... etc...) belong to David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson, even if Chris Carter did create them. Thank you both for bringing life, a life that is so believable and realistic, to My two favorite people, besides David and Gillian of course. Apt. 42 Hogal Place Alexandria, VA. She silently made her way, slowly, to the hospital bed, which was centered in the middle of an odd, white room. And as though she could not bring herself to look upon the face of the man lying there, she very hesitantly peered at the aged man, a feeling of pure terror and hatred washed over. She was frozen in place, as if someone was holding her there, holding her eyes open, daring her to look away. She was terrified, to say the least. The man's eyes snapped open, and for a few instant seconds, pure fear and terror pierced her heart like a needle. She let out a small gasp. She quickly sat up, eyes wide-open, heart racing; a thin sheet of cold sweat covered her body from head to toe. She blinked once, twice, three times, before she finally recognized her surroundings. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ His soft warm bed, his home, and then she remembered, and for just an instant in time, the fear that had pierced her heart during the darkest depths of her sleep. But peace soon returned, as she glanced over at the bedside clock. 6:23 Am. She'd over slept, almost half an hour. Someone stirred next to her; she didn't want to get up... didn't want to leave his bed, that had sheltered her while in his arms, that had kept them warm as they reached a new understanding in their relationship. She didn't want to leave and become Special Agent Dana Scully again, until she had to. Here, with him, she had become Dana. Anywhere else, she went and hid behind her ice mask, shielding herself from any emotion. She became the person in charge. A person with authority. Dana became Scully, Special Agent Dana Scully, FBI, XF, M.D. She knew she should get up. She seriously thought about staying here, in this bed, with this man. She didn't care if others found out. If it would go public? So what, it couldn't make her feel trapped. She had personal space, but no secrets. Her and this amazing man had let out EVERYTHING last night, tears were shed, comfort given and received. Anything that had ever been kept had been given and shared. He even told her all about Dianna Fowley. She told herself that she didn't want to know, but she knew that she really did. She wanted every piece of evidence against about her new found lovers past. Only to gain the knowledge that if somehow Dianna weren't dead, would she come back, and would he go to her, leaving herself in the distance. But she knew that his near wife was dead, and if she wasn't, he had made it exceptionally clear that nothing would make him turn his heart away from this nearly eight year partnership that meant more to them than their own lives, from her, here now, he never could. He had ignored her only so that he could test her ever present love for him, he had known the craft was in Africa, that made her angry, but only for a short lived while. He wanted to see if she actually would go. That made her even angrier, and then she had started to cry. Her emotions of finding out that he had almost married Dianna, him testing her love, almost loosing him to a disease that threatened to engulf his beautiful mind, and everything else just came crashing down upon her. And he had held her. Until her tears subsided, and he felt secure enough to let her leave his embrace. She slowly slipped from his arms, and they both continued to let everything out despite the personal cost and pain. She was scared that he wouldn't want her because of her inability to bare children. He didn't care about that. Sure on some level, pain and loss were felt, but none of that mattered as long as she was happy. If she wanted children, then god, sciences, and the syndicate be damned, he would try his damndest to make her happy. He did want her; he let her become the most important thing in his life. He was afraid that she would leave him after knowing all of these new things about his past. Leave him like everyone else had. She didn't. She knew she had to get up, get ready, and go to work. Very reluctantly, she slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb the man still asleep on the bed. After showering, putting clothes back on, and trying to tame her hair, she walked slowly out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where she picked up her suit jacket, and shrugged it on. Buttoning only the first three buttons, and deciding the pull was just too strong, she walked back over to her side of the bed, 3 inch black pumps clicking on the dark, hard wooden surface of his floor. She climbed in, and rested her head and left palm on his bare chest, tucking the other between their warm bodies. Automatically, as if they had been doing this their whole lives, his arm came around her and held her close. And she sighed in contentment. She was content to let the world go by. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ He felt her stir. Then was on alert when she suddenly sat up, and for a split second, he feared something was terribly wrong, but then in an instant he instinctively knew it was a nightmare. It always was for him, and he felt the oh too familiar terror radiating off of her. He lay there, eyes closed, letting her remember where she was, her surroundings. All he wanted to do was hold her and tell her it would all be all right. But he let her be regardless, pretending to sleep, listening to her breathing return to normal. She calmed down after awhile, and he swore he could hear her thinking. Then he felt the pull of choices, stay here or get ready for work. Figuring she would choose the latter, he knew that he too should get up, and he felt the loss as she slowly, but deliberately, slipped out of bed. He started to return back to a light sleep as he heard the shower turn on. For some odd reason he thought of the name Daniel, as the sound of the shower water hitting her back lulled him back to sleep. Only when the water stopped did he reawake. He remembered last night, they let it all go, nothing was left to reveal, at least he hoped. He could have swore he knew she had left one lonely thing alone... it was still there. He wanted to know what it was. He would get it out of her one way or another, this much he knew. He didn't want to trick her into telling him something that she didn't want him to know, but this was important, he could feel it. He didn't want to get up. He knew that as soon as he did, it would all go back to the paranoia, conspiracies, the cases, the long drawn out days of endless work where he would be forbidden to touch her, but would steal a few unnoticed glances. He didn't want to leave the warm confides of his bed. Yes, he had a bed. This warm, soft, cozy, practically unused, bed that had sheltered Scully and himself as they reached a turning point in their lives. He didn't want to leave and push these so recently new memories from his mind, in order to pursue a case file. He didn't want to get up and become Special Agent Fox Mulder again, until he had to. He was here with her, and only when alone did he allow her to call him Fox. It sounded so much better coming from her, almost normal. Here, with her, he had become Fox. Anywhere else, he went and hid behind his carefully constructed facade, shielding himself from any emotion. He became the person in charge. A person with authority, he became Mulder, Special Agent Fox Mulder, FBI, VCS, XF. He was suddenly derailed from his train of thought when he felt he climb back into bed, 3 inch high-heel-fuck-me-shoes and all. She snuggled up to his side, left hand and head resting on his chest. Her other arm, tucked between them. He automatically put his arm around her, holding her close. And he sighed in contentment. He was content to let the world go by. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ She thought it a dream, just as he had previously. But to her relief, it wasn't. She thought of time and how things change with it. How time passes in moments, moments, which rushing past, define the path of a life just as surely as they lead towards its end. How rarely do we stop to examine that path, to see the reasons why all things happen. To consider whether the path we take in life is our own making, or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed. But what if we could stop. Pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes? Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life? And seeing these choices, choose another path? Over time she had tried to forget, forget the terror that aged man had caused. So she had been young, but the answer was still the same. No meant no then and it still did to that day. To this day she still held that fear and terror in her heart. Yes, she and Mulder had let everything go, but she held this close to herself. Kept it in her heart as a reminder of the past. The lone thing that she held onto. But why, after all these years, had he resurfaced himself in her darkest subconscious? She let her mind wander over that question until she felt herself going crazy over wanting to know what time it was. Slowly turning, she glanced at the red glowing lines that formed coherent numbers. 7:52! Holy Shit! She had thought. They were defiantly going to be late. Or maybe... just maybe, not going in at all. She still had yet to form an answer to her minds screaming question about Daniel. So for now, she let it be, to wake her new found lover from his light slumber. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~ "Why live life from dream to dream?" ~ Moulin Rouge. "Death, in itself, is nothing. But we fear to be, we know not what. We know not where." ~ J. Dryden