From: Thalia D'Muse Date: Subject: NEW: Living the Lie (1/1) by Thalia D'Muse LIVING THE LIE (1/1) by Thalia D'Muse Please archive. Please post to a.t.x.c. Summary: Scully deals with the facts concerning her and Mulder's partnership. Post-Gethsemane story. Keywords: Mulder/Scully UST, conspiracy Spoilers: Spoilers galore for Gethsemane. Classification/Rating: SA, PG-13 (a few four-letter words) Disclaimer: Any characters you recognize from the XF universe aren't mine. They're owned by the Master of the Mind F**k (CC), 1013 and Fox. Author's Notes: A continuation of Gethsemane. It's borderline MSR, so friendshippers take heed. Come November, CC's storyline will come along and probably blow this little story to Hell, but blame CC. He left an opening I couldn't resist. ;-) Thanks to KL and Charli for the quick read and good advice. I'd love some feedback! Please send it to thalia@goodnet.com. LIVING THE LIE by Thalia D'Muse "Agent Scully, in light of your allegations, and Agent Mulder's...death, we will need to reassess the X-Files project." Dana Scully nodded at Blevins, unable to acknowledge his remark for fear of completely losing her resolve. "During that time, I am putting you on leave, with pay, for one week." "Sir," she choked out, "that isn't necessary. I am..." Blevins raised a hand. "It _is_ necessary, Agent Scully, and you will take the time. Please." She gave a slight nod in assent, then lifted her chin defiantly, looking each person at the table in the eye. Her last look was saved for Blevins. Her eyes held his for a second, an eternity, before she broke the contact and walked to the exit. She kept walking despite the guard's calls for her to halt. Reaching the elevators, she pushed the 'down' button and the doors to her left opened immediately. She went inside and pushed the basement button. The doors closed just as the guard approached. His hand went between the doors then pulled out at the last minute. Scully expelled a sigh and allowed herself the luxury of letting the tears fall freely from her swollen eyes. How had it come to this? _Why_ had it come to this? Why did it have to be this way? All this for the truth. She snorted a bitter laugh. Him and his fucking truth. He'd risked everything, his life and hers, for the truth. For five years, the truth lay just out of their reach, dangled in front of their naive faces like a carrot teasing a donkey to continue its journey. Always there but just out of reach. Until now. Now, the ultimate truth lay at her feet, waiting for her to acknowledge its presence. And, with tears and wracking sobs, she did acknowledge it. Fox Mulder was dead. ----------------------------X---------------------------- Four days later Kings Beach, California Scully checked into the resort, depositing her luggage in the bungalow and staying only long enough to change into a lightweight pantsuit. She walked along the shore, casually glancing behind her shoulder from time to time, her paranoia instinctually heightened. Convinced she wasn't being followed, she cut across the beach and headed for the seedier side of town. She fingered the motel room key in her pocket. She would get to see him one last time before she had to say good-bye, possibly forever. What he had done, and was planning to do, sealed his fate, a fate that left no room for loose ends, her included. How much more did she have to go through? They had broken her spirit and invaded her body. They had destroyed her partnership, and her partner, for that matter. Now, the man for which she lived, would die, and had initiated the biggest lie of all, was the man she would most likely never see again. He would get word to her periodically, letting her know he was safe, but it wouldn't be the same as seeing him, touching him, holding him. At least she would know he was alive. It was little reassurance. She found the motel, a small, non-descript building housing ten rooms. She spotted Room Six, and after looking over her shoulder one last time, she unlocked the door and slipped inside. Eyeing the room, she looked for sign of him, but the room was pin-dropping quiet. A glance at her watch told her she was early, having misjudged the time it would take her to walk from her bungalow to the motel. So she waited. Seconds turned into minutes, minutes into a quarter-hour, then a half. Her patience wearing thin, she stared at the alarm clock on the side table, the second-hand's movement around the clock face holding her eyes in a hypnotic trance. Thirty-eight minutes after setting foot in the dank motel room, footsteps sent her heart racing. She unholstered her gun, cocking it as she rose from the bed. She heard the click of the key as it was inserted into the lock, then watched the doorknob turn counter-clockwise. Raising her gun, she braced herself against the dresser. She was able to see the person enter the room, but the opened door blocked their view of her until it would be too late. She sighed and lowered the gun when he walked in and locked the door behind him. Hair the color of the darkest night, streaks of iridescent blue appearing when light splashed across its silkiness. Beautiful chocolate brown eyes, simultaneously inviting and foreboding. Long, hard, sinewy body, clad in dark blue jeans and a denim work shirt. He truly was a sight for her sore, tear-drenched eyes. She had risked everything for him, even perpetrating the ultimate betrayal for his benefit. For both their benefit. This was more than commitment, more than love. This went beyond the physical, linking them forever by tethering their souls together in an unbreakable bond. She flew across the room, ferociously locking her arms around his midsection, squeezing him closer as she burrowed her face in his shirt. She breathed in the scent of him; sweet, musky, tangy. Familiar. One arm snaked around her shoulders, holding her to his chest. His breath splayed moist heat on her neck, a sensation strangely erotic and comforting at the same time. He pulled back and she resisted the urge to follow his body. She loosened her hold, then let her arms fall to her sides. "How did it go?" His voice was low, strained, tired. A bitter smile flirted with her lips. "It went as planned." "They believed you?" "I gave them no choice. My words had the desired impact." She saw his shoulders relax a few centimeters. He crossed the room, placing a paper bag on the nightstand. "Were you..." "Of course not," she interrupted, annoyance threaded through her voice. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. You know I'm perfectly capable of shaking a tail." "I don't know, Agent Scully. I've never seen you shake your tail." She had a scathing look prepared but the expression softened when she saw the leer in his eyes and playfulness on his upturned lips. He straightened his body, standing tall and spreading his arms like wings. "How do I look?" It was her turn to leer. "The tight jeans are a nice touch." His head tilted to the side. "I never knew you cared." She chuckled, surprised that she was able to make light of the dimmest of situations. "The hair color is good, but the length is still too long." She paused and a tiny gasp escaped your lips. "Your nose..." His hand went to his face. "I broke it. It was the one feature I couldn't cover up or dye, and the one that would probably give me away the quickest." She nodded knowingly, but couldn't help the pang of sadness in her heart. "The contacts are perfect. No hint of green or gold, just dark brown. You need more cover-up on the mole." His hand reached for hers and she threaded her fingers through his. It was a simple gesture but one that helped ease her tension. She took in a shuddering breath. "I'm...worried." Terrified was more like it, but she couldn't bring herself to tell him that. His hand left hers as he wrapped both arms around her, enveloping her in a warm embrace. She fought the tears welling in her eyes but relaxed against his body. "I know," he whispered. "Would it help if I said I was worried, too?" She looked up at him and smiled weakly. "No." He returned the smile then let it fade. "This has to be done, you know that." "Yes," she whispered with a nod. "But that doesn't make it any easier." His hands brushed the length of her back in light, soothing strokes. "No one said this was going to be easy. But we have to do it. It will save us both." "Or kill us." She pulled from his embrace, crossing the room to sit on the bed. He followed, sitting in a chair beside the bed. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned toward her, his hand brushing her wrist. His pinkie finger locked around hers. "What about the autopsy?" She lowered her head. "They didn't order one." "What?" "Andrews convinced them it wasn't necessary. He thoroughly searched the body, in _Their_ presence, of course, and called the cause as a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head. Andrews' confidence in his assessment, coupled with my teary identification of the body, brooked no suspicion." She chuckled bitterly. "Remind me to get the name of the plastic surgeon the Gunman used on that guy. His work was phenomenal. So phenomenal, I hardly had to fake the tears. I was almost convinced it was you." He shook his head. "Still, I don't like the fact they were so accepting, so quickly." "As far as I can tell, they believed everything. Our conversation at the warehouse, my speech about the illegitimacy of our work, everything." "I can't believe it was so easy. We just say something and they believe it? Would _They_ be so willing to believe?" "We were," she whispered. He let out a long breath. "Where's the body?" "I had it cremated the day after the session with Blevins." He nodded. "Good. Skinner fight you on that?" "A little, but I convinced him it was for the best. I told him that _Their_ words had already sliced through you, killing you weeks before the bullet from your gun entered your head. I didn't want _Their_ knives slicing through you, too." He grinned her favorite lopsided grin. "Very poetic, Dana." His use of her first name brought tears to the forefront. "Mulder, I..." Two elegantly-tapered fingers went to her lips, pressing softly against her flesh. "No, Scully. There is no Mulder. Fox Mulder is dead. You can't slip on that. You can't let _Them_ know you think otherwise." Scully yanked her face away from his hand. "I know that! I know what my role is!" She tried to move from the bed but his long legs blocked her escape. His hands clamped around her forearms and held her in place. "Scully, I'm sorry it has to be this way. I really am. But it's this way or nothing. We have to keep searching and the only way we can do that is to split up. I need you here to be my lifeline. I can't do this without you." The color was different, but his eyes still had the ability to bore straight through to her soul. She choked back the tears, not allowing them to fall. He released his grip on her arms and sat back in his chair. "How long are you here?" "Three days," she replied. "Blevins forced a week's leave on me. I fought him enough to make it look good." She lowered her head. "When do you leave?" "Late tonight." He paused, sucking in a shuddered breath. "I'll get word to you when I'm settled." She nodded again and rose from the bed, the severity of the moment suddenly too much for her to handle. She headed for the door, then turned back. "Here," she said, pulling an envelope from her jacket pocket. He approached her and took the envelope from her outstretched hand. He opened it, surveying the contents. "What...what is this?" "Everything I have. Well, not everything." She dipped her head shyly. "I had this in an IRA account under an assumed name. It's untraceable to me; therefore, untraceable to you." He put the money back in the envelope and handed it to her. "No. I've already taken so much from you, Scully. I can't take this." She refused the envelope. "Take the money. And the other contents, too." He cocked his head, then reopened the envelope and fingered through the cash. A glimmer of gold caught his eye. He gently yanked at the chain until it, and the gold cross attached to it, freed itself. She heard his breath catch and her battle with the tears was lost. "Dana...I..." Their eyes locked and she savored the moment, knowing it would probably be the last time she would be able to lose herself in their depths. Before her tears could completely overwhelm her, she looked away and walked to the door. She reached for the doorknob and turned it, but stopped when she felt his hand on her arm. "I don't want the money. The Gunmen are working to get me a supply." She shook her head. "Take it. You can never have too much money." She rewarded him with a thin smile. "I was only saving it for a rainy day." He hand moved down her arm to her hand, giving it a squeeze. "It's not raining outside, Scully. It's clear and sunny." "Not for long," she replied in a shaky whisper before releasing his hand. Her legs carried her away from the door and she didn't look back. THE END