From spooky42@juno.com Tue Apr 15 22:30:08 1997 Subject: *NEW* "Maybe Once" (1/1) From: spooky42@juno.com -------- ======================== "Maybe Once" written by GreenFish post date: 15th April 1997 ======================== NOTE: I know this one's a bit late... but I'm posting this for all the Brits who just got to see "Never Again." And all you in other parts of the world who have yet to see it... =========================== DISCLAIMER: Standard lawyer stuff... Mulder, Scully, Skinner, Ed Jerse...? Not mine. I really think they're all cute, though, so I stole them for a while. Hey-- everybody else is doing it, so why can't I? This one has a little Ed and Scully lovin', but no sex... okay? No Mulder or Scully sex, either. Non-'shipper friendly. Anyway, even if you are one, you'll probably enjoy this... Right? Right? Sure... fine. Whatever. RATING: PG DISTRIBUTE: anywhere (it's already on Steph Davies season 4 archive) CONTENT/SPOILER: "Never Again" spoiler... so if you haven't seen it... you know the drill, kiddos. ARCHIVE: S (no romance, really-- it's mostly flirty) SUMMARY: Scully picks up on where she left off that night in Ed Jerse's apartment; Mulder visits Scully in the hospital... ============================ "Maybe Once" (part 1/1) -Philadelphia, PA- Dana Scully's back was sore. But to see that look that Ed Jerse had given her made her feel a lot better. The gauze over the new tattoo helped keep it from contacting with her clothes for the moment. He was holding her hand as he led her back to his apartment. Dana wondered what she was getting herself into... her partner, Fox Mulder would have been shouting 'foul!' right about then, she thought. How many times had she given her partner unspoken grief for his choice in women... and *now* look where she was! But there was something different about Ed; an edge that allowed some deeper understanding that she hadn't found in other men. Mulder understood her certainly, but only up to a point. He had become as much the patriarchal figure as had the others. He couldn't see everything like Ed could. And there was something comforting about being around someone who had it as bad, if not worse than her. She felt a deep empathetic pity for Ed, and how he carried all his worries on his arm, it seemed. =Literally.= As they headed into Ed's apartment, he went over to the window, glancing outside. "It's really bad out," he said, turning back to her. "Look... with the weather, and a few drinks under your belt, I'd feel better if you stayed here." Dana glanced downward, and her eyebrow flicked up, causing her to smile a little. She was about to protest him when he interrupted her. "Hey," he said, invoking her to look back at him. "I'm not up to anything. I just want you to be safe. I'll take the couch." Dana smiled again, but this time out of affection. She was partially relieved at the fact of that, and the straight tone that he spoke in. "Your tattoo hurt at all?" "Yeah, um... it feels weird. I, uh... I can't see it, but I feel different. It's like, uh--" She grinned, and looked down at the floor. "Ed, I don't how *how* I feel about that." Dana was still trying to get used to the idea that she had actually gone through with it. Being around Ed almost obligated her to be honest, it seemed. Dana felt like she didn't need to put up that constant mask, that she often used around Mulder. Although she knew, like her partner, that Ed would have seen right through it, had she tried. He slowly edged up to her, and her expression changed. She did not speak, however, but simply watched as he moved his way around to her back. Dana felt a slight draft of air as he lifted up her shirt, and carefully pulled back the gauze. Dana waited. Finally, he glanced around at her. "It looks all right." She felt a small rush of relief inside herself at that. But Dana found herself no sooner calmed when she noticed Ed's hand, which was stained with blood coming down his arm. "Ed, you're bleeding again," she said. "Will you let me take a look at it? I *am* a doctor..." Before Ed could reply otherwise, Dana was at his jacket, and pulled it down. "They said this could happen," he grumbled as she worked at his shirt buttons. She got his shirt off, and pulled off the gauze, revealing what had once been the beautiful tattoo. It was covered in blood, and the skin was puckered on the face. "Ed, it looks burned," she commented, reaching her hand up to touch it. <*Get her hands off'a me!*> Ed heard the Voice speaking... in his head, from his soul... it was there again. But before he could fight it, he found himself obeying the order. His left hand immediately slapped Dana's away, grabbing onto it with brute force. The look Ed gave Dana was as surprised as the one she conveyed towards him. He heard her heavy breathing in the silence. <*Those are bad thoughts you're having, baby,*> the Voice said. It was so strong... <*You kiss her... and she's dead.*> But Ed kept edging closer, and pulled her more tightly against him, his muscles rippling from the might he was ensuing upon her. He wanted to kiss her, and could see that Dana wanted the same thing. She seemed to like the control... Dana felt her heart pounding against her chest. It was a feeling she hadn't felt for so long, and the adrenaline rushed through her body as if she were running a race. Ed yanked her up yet another inch, and her wrists were beginning to ache from the strain, but it was a pain coupled with a fervor inside of her, that had become addictive. Closer, yet... and suddenly his lips were against hers. They ignited in a fire that was hotter than the hell below them. The feelings that ran through them were certainly no longer affectionate, but flowing with desire, and need that each of them fed off of. Ed realized he couldn't hear the voice anymore-- She wasn't speaking to him. The only thing he heard were the small sighs that escaped Dana's mouth as he ran kisses from her lips, down her neck, and then to the center of her chest, where he undid her top button with an amazing amount of gentility. "Ed--" Dana began to say. She wasn't sure if this was developing into such a good idea. Slowly letting go of her wrists, he slid his own hands up her shoulders, and held them there lightly. He slowly stood up, and gazed at her. "I would never want to do anything to hurt you, Dana." "Ed," she said, pulling up his right arm to gaze at the tattoo again, "how did this get burned?" She had a good idea; after seeing the picture Ed had kept of his children, but Dana wanted him to tell her. "It just... did," he said. "Ed... you have to wash that up, and put some more gauze on it," she said, studying the tattoo again. <*What does that bitch think she's staring at?*> The Voice was back, Ed thought, a great dismay settling over him. No! Somehow, Dana had made it go away before... Dana noticed the distinctive burn right on the forehead of the tattoo's face. As she stared at it, the ice blue eyes almost seemed to stare back. Dana shivered unconsciously. "You cold?" Ed asked, immediately concerned. He broke away, and started going over to the front wall. "I could turn up the thermostat for you..." "No, Ed," Dana said. "I want to clean up your arm." There was something about the way she said things. It was somewhat like the Voice, but nicer. She didn't order him around, but beckoned in such a way that Ed couldn't refuse. He didn't =want= to refuse. In the bathroom, her hands were soft against his arm... just like a doctor's should have been. She had a methodical way of dabbing the cotton, and-- <*Ow! Get the bitch away from me!*> Ed felt his arm automatically starting to go up, but he willed everything--every single strength left in his body to not move anymore. And though it shook violently with the sheer will he was employing just to remain still, the look on Dana's face made it all worthwhile. By the time she had applied the stinging alcohol to his skin, the Voice was no longer speaking to him at all. It was almost as if the pain had numbed her. For the moment. He winced in accordance to the pain, and Dana lifted the alcohol- soaked cotton ball, looking at Ed. "You okay?" she asked softly. He nodded. "Just stings, Dana. Could you-- uh, grab a gauze before this starts bleeding again?" She quickly got a hold of a pad, and taped it onto his skin, using the adhesive in the cabinet. "There," she said, touching the tape to make sure the bandage was secure. Just the gentle caress caused goosebumps to form on his arm. "Thank you," he said. He leaned down and gently gave her a kiss on the lips again. Dana returned the motion, out of sympathy and feeling for this tortured man before her. By that time, however, the initial fever that had been running through them was gone, and they simply stared at one another for the next few seconds. There was something in Ed's eyes, she thought. Something that made her want to mother him, and not take him to bed with her. She sighed. "Ed... I'm going to have to catch a flight tomorrow. I'd better--" "Yeah," he said, gently taking her by the arm. "You look tired, and with those drinks that we had earlier--" He brought her into his bedroom. "You can stay here..." He pulled back the sheets, and then, going over to the closet, pulled out a white shirt. "And wear this to bed. I wouldn't want you sleeping in those clothes." He toyed with the collar of her shirt for a moment. "Thank you, Ed," she smiled, and kissed him on the lips. The contact was sweet, but, again, there was no longer any fire between them. It was like kissing an old acquaintance. He smiled back, and after squeezing both of her hands, started to head out of the room. "I'll see you in the morning," he said, turning around. "Yep." The door closed, and Dana sat down on the bed, her mouth turned up tentatively. She wasn't sure =what= to feel any more... **TWO DAYS LATER** -JFK Memorial Hospital, Philadelphia, PA- Her back no longer hurt, but her head was pounding, and she knew that the lacerations on her face had to make her look hideous. As Dana Scully woke up that morning, she found herself-- much to her dismay-- parked in a hospital bed, dressed in a gown. Dana's first thoughts were of Ed, and she jumped up with a start. Two seconds later, she was back on the pillow again, gripping the sides of her head. The sudden movement had sent a horrible shot of pain straight to her skull. She groaned, and turned her head. It wasn't up until this point that she noticed her partner had been sitting there the entire time. Wearing a =very= amused expression, she noted with annoyance. "How long have you been here?" she asked. "Well, they called me about noon, yesterday, and when I got here, your mother was already here." Scully groaned. "Where's Mom now?" "She's gone out to get breakfast. I assured her you wouldn't lapse into a catatonic state while she was gone." Scully nodded. "And Ed? What happened to him?" Mulder appeared confused for a moment, and then replied, "Oh... your Don Juan, you mean? He was transferred to St. John's, and was in critical condition yesterday, but I guess he stabilized overnight, and they were able to downgrade him to serious. His arm is being treated for the third-degree burns." Scully swallowed the look she had wanted to give Mulder for his initial comment. "What did the doctors say?" "You'll be fine, Scully. In fact, they just wanted you to rest, and after you get checked out, you'll be free to go." She nodded. There was a slight pause, and then Mulder began to smile a little. "I, uh... was going to take a peek under your hospital gown while you were sleeping," Mulder continued, "but I didn't think that'd be proper." "*What?*" she asked. "What kind of tattoo did you get?" She looked up at him. He *knew* about the tattoo--? Well, of course he knew about the-- *ah!* Her mother! Scully shot her partner a worried glance. As if able to read her mind, Mulder said, "Look, Scully... your mom doesn't know about the tattoo." She heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mulder," she said to him. The first and only thanks Mulder thought he had heard from her in the past week. Still, even in light of that, he couldn't resist. "Well... can I?" "Can you what?" she asked wearily. "See your tattoo?" Scully rolled her eyes. "No-- I don't want you to see it!" "Why not? Is it inappropriately low for viewing?" he asked. "No, but--" "C'mon, then. Lem'me see it, Scully--" "No!" she said, slapping his hand away. "Why not? C'mon!" Mulder wrestled around with her, trying to get her to turn her back around so he could view the artwork. "No, stop it!" "Scully, let me just look at it--" "Mulder, I said no..." "C'mon, Scully!" Assistant Director Walter Skinner had been standing outside the door to Agent Scully's hospital room long enough to catch the last couple sentences in what sounded like a lively exchange coming from the room. He waited a few more seconds. "Mulder, I said no--" "Why not? Just a peek... I just want a glimpse at it!" "I didn't get it for your personal enjoyment, Mulder!" "How do you know, Scully? I can't enjoy it unless you show me..." "No-- certainly not in the hospital here. You never know who could end up walking in--" Right on cue, there was a knock on the door, and the two looked up in horror to see the Assistant Director of the FBI standing in the doorway. As it was, Mulder was sprawled out across the hospital bed, his hand grasping a clump of Scully's gown. Mulder immediately jumped off the bed in attention. Scully sat back up also, stiffening her back. "Sir?" they said in unison. "Agent Mulder; Agent Scully..." There was a short pause. Skinner did everything he could to keep himself from smiling. "Um... I wouldn't be *interrupting* anything, would I?" "No, sir." "No, sir." Skinner, for the first time in his career, almost thought he saw a bit of blush seeping up into his agents' faces. He took a little breath before speaking again. "You look a little better, Agent Scully, than from what I heard." "Yes, sir. Um, I'm still a bit sore, but, uh..." Scully nodded her head. "Actually, Agent Scully, my reports came to me incomplete. I heard you came in with lacerations and some bruising, and possible ergot posioning...?" Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Contamination from a wheat dye," Scully said. "There was a presence of the substance..." Her voice trailed off. Skinner looked to Mulder, but he wasn't offering. "Do you know how soon you expect to be released?" "Hopefully in a little while," Scully replied. "I might even be in later this afternoon." Skinner headed back over to the door. "Don't push yourself, Agent Scully. Good day," he replied, and left the room. Mulder and Scully stared at one another for a few seconds, sharing a moment of quiet solemnity. Finally, Mulder broke the silence. "Can I see it?" "No!" "C'mon..." -the end- ============================================= "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." -Eleanor Roosevelt ============================================= ... Anyway, even though this one's a bit late, what'd y'all think? comments, concerns, love letters... (hehe):