From: Laura Bontrager Date: Fri, 06 Nov 1998 21:45:18 -0600 (CST) Subject: Long Term Plans (1/1) Title: Long Term Plans Author: RocketMan Email: >lebontrager@harding.edu< Summary: Gibson Praise comes back to haunt Mulder and especially Scully. SPOILERS:::FTF Movie, The End ~~~~ Long Term Plans ~~~~ "I came down to ask you something, I guess I was, uh, just nosing around. Wondering about you, your long term plans." "My long term plans? You got them right there in your hands." "What do you hope to find, I mean, in the end?" "Whatever I hope to find is in here. Maybe I'll know when I find it." --Exchange between Skinner and Mulder, "The End" ~~~~ His hands are steepled when I come inside, face obscured by sleeplessness and shaking fingers. I wonder what could have him so dejected, so utterly anguished now. The light inside his apartment is low, barely snaking along the floor, not daring to touch his still form. "Mulder," I say softly. His head comes up suddenly, as if he is surprised I am here, inside so quickly. He just called, but I was within minutes. I seem to always be within minutes of him. "Scully. . ." I can't understand what has gone wrong now. It was just getting better. We beat my cancer, then Antarctica was over and we were okay and the X-Files. . .we had it all back. "Gibson Praise. . .his body was found yesterday. . .but it shriveled. . .it was like those clones. Green. . .bubbling." My mouth runs dry, lips sting with the words. "He what?" "I don't know what to think, Scully. . .Was he real? Did we completely miss the connection?" "He's dead?" It's all I can think. Mulder's talking about the connections, the case, and all I can see is his face as I promise him protection, as I promise to keep him safe. "He's dead?" I say again, pushing aside his hands to see his face. Gibson Praise is the key to the X-Files, the key, and he's gone? That little boy is . . .gone? Quantifiable scientific proof. . . I can't believe we said any of this. I can't believe I let Mulder suck me into all of this. "No. I don't think he's dead, Scully, that's just it. Gibson Praise wasn't a clone. . .he was real. I'm sure of it. The missing link. . .But I don't know how it all works out. . .I can't find-" "Mulder." "He had more than us, Scully. More power in-" "Mulder. Stop it. Stop it." I shake him roughly, pushing him back against the couch, making him look at me in shock. "We lost the X-Files because of all of this, Mulder. We lost our . . . our -" I bite back the choke of this betrayal, of another child lost to what we have so arrogantly deemed our search for the truth. "What are you telling me?" he says, staring as if I have betrayed him too. I shake my head, pulling away from him just as he catches my wrist. "What are you telling me?" He jumps up, pulling me back to him, tugging me hard into his grip of ice. "Scully!" "Don't . . .don't start this again Mulder. If Gibson is dead, it's only because of us. It's only because we pushed to have the Attorney General involved. We got sucked into something so remote and implausible, something that could never have possibly been resolved." "Are you telling me you don't believe in what Gibson could do? That those tests on him didn't convince you of anything?" "Mulder, da-" I yank again on the arm holding me tightly in place, frustrated with him, with us, with this new turn we have taken. "No. No! I just mean. . .I just mean. . .I know what he could do. But the key to everything? How's that, Mulder? I think about what we said to Skinner, to the Attorney General, and I. . .I shudder. There's no way he could be the . . .he's just a child. A child. . ." "Scully. I don't know what to say to you. We both had the evidence. I went on what you, yourself pointed out, what *you* told me." I shake my head and sink into his now tender arms, letting his warmth seep into my coldness. "I know. I know. I don't see how it came to be so. . .so crucial to the X-Files." "So you think you just got caught up in all the excitement, is that it?" His words are hard, but he keeps me firmly in his embrace, not letting the thoughts we share take us further apart. "Mulder. . .it's not like that." "How is it then?" "I want the answers, I do. I guess I thought I wanted to show you. . ." "Show me what?" His eyes are frightened, as if he's afraid I'm actually doing this for him. I shake my head, not answering. I wanted to show him that I was the best partner for him, that despite of my skeptic nature, I could believe too. Like Diana. I guess I never realized before now. Never understood that I was hoping to prove myself. And now that I know I don't have to prove anything to Mulder, it seems like everything we did was so foolish, so crazily stupid. I wish none of it mattered anymore. But because of my actions, my own need to prove myself, a little boy is dead. Gone. "Scully, what did you want to show me?" I close my eyes, my forehead resting against his chest. "Scully. . .please." "Nothing. Nothing. What I was feeling then has no relevance to what I feel now." He smiles softly, his lips moving along my hairline in tune with his words. "And what do you feel now?" A myriad of things, Mulder. Too many to tell you. "Secure." He nods, content with that answer. "I'm glad." I raise my head, only now feeling able to look in his eyes. He is awakened, his lips flushed with the wine of words, his eyes slipping into passion as easily as his mind slips into intensity. It is the same as before, in his hall, that same culmination of everything that has ever gone between us suddenly bringing fire to my every sense. My eyes are heavy, slipping into this drugged intoxication of his eyes so focused only on me. I lean toward them, lost, lost, so utterly lost. . . His lips are soft, wet, thick with an ache for mine. Just a touch, a brush against me that leaves me weak. I let my head fall to his chest, exhausted at once. His lips whisper along the top of my head and I dimly realize he's speaking. "What we did was right. . ." he is saying. I mumbled against him, thinking he's talking about that brief touch of lips and souls. A gentle laugh greets my coccoon. "Ah, I was talking about Gibson. . .but either will do." I raise my head, smiling as he fumbles his fingers through my hair. His thumbs dance along my eyes sockets, circle my lids with smoothness and serenity. "Mulder," I say softly. "Hm-hmm?" "What are we going to do now?" He slides his arms around me, pulling me up closer to his heighth, letting his forehead rest along my shoulder. "I have some long term plans." ~~~~ end adios RM ~~~~~~~~~~ "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." --Matthew 5:16 ~~~~~~~~~~ http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/5007/ Come check out my web page ~~~~~~~~~~