From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 11 Aug 2001 01:45:46 -0000
Subject: Partners, in all Other Senses of the Word by cerulean_blue
Source: direct

Reply To: blue_cerulean@hotmail.com


Title: Partners, in all Other Senses of the Word
Author: Cerulean_blue (actually my name is Gillian, but I didn't
think any of you would believe me that is my real name)
E-mail: blue_cerulean@hotmail.com
Rating: gentle
Spoilers: all things post-ep
Disclaimer: These characters and all things X- Files are the
property of CC and 1013. Story created out of respect for that
amazing gift.
Comments: There are four things I struggle with at the end of
season 8.  They are: how they consummated their relationship, why
Mulder didn't tell Scully he was dying, what Scully meant when
she said "which is what" and how to deal with Mulder's absence
next year.  I try to deal with the first two in this story.  I
have written about the third one in my story "Which is What?" and
I hope to deal with the final piece soon.
Story: Scully awakens in Mulder's apartment after a weekend of
epiphanies, and realizes that her relationship with Mulder has
fundamentally shifted.
Dedication: to Haven for all the goodness there, to David for his
unsolicited encouragement, and for Kate.
 
Partners, in all Other Senses of the Word

She awoke with a start and for a brief moment, she had no idea
where she was.  And then, she could smell the musky scent of
Mulder sleeping.  She must have fallen asleep on the couch while
they were talking, and he had obviously covered her with the old
blanket from Albert Hosteen, and left her undisturbed on the
couch.  As she became accustomed to the light, she could also see
that he had left a glass of water for her on the coffee table,
anticipating she would awaken as she had.

She could still feel the weight of the past few days in her body,
and even more significantly, the feeling that something had
fundamentally shifted for her.  She awoke feeling a much
different woman than the one that had awoken the day previous. 
And Mulder, sleeping in the next room was a huge piece of that
shift.

She rose, quietly, but instead of gathering her things and
heading for the door as she had done on so many other nights, she
instead moved gently towards the bedroom.  She smiled as she
looked at his clothing strewn in a path towards the bed, and at
his one bar leg sticking out from under the comforter.  In
looking at him, her partner, she suddenly had the most
overwhelming sense of longing.  It was not the first time she had
felt desire for him, and like those times, she didn't suppress
it.  She understood it, and loved the feelings it moved in her. 
Their relationship was the most intimate of her life, and as she
had come to realize in the past few days, all paths had led her
to this moment.

Resisting the temptation to pick up his clothes from the floor
where they lay haphazardly, she instead slowly unbuttoned her own
shirt, and eased out of the skirt and tights she had been wearing
for too many hours now.  Folding them and leaving them on the
chair by the window, she gently and quietly moved into the bed
beside him.

This was not the first night that they had shared a bed together. 
Nor the first night that they would lie naked with each other
either.  But it was the first night that she allowed herself to
really think about what might be the consequence of feeling the
way that she did.  What might be the end result of this
overwhelming sense of longing.

But she didn't want to wake him, and instead, curled her body up
against his so that he turned and moved in behind her, cradling
her body with his own, his arm now, moving along the length of
her body.

"Oh god, Scully..."

"Mulder, its o.k., sssshhh, I just wanted to sleep nearer to
you."

"Scully...."

"No, I'm fine, I just needed to be where you were, that's all. 
Do you want me to go?"

Her heart began to beat faster, in the silence of the moment, as
she became conscious of where each part of her body was touching
his, and how amazing it felt to have him so close.

"Scully, I need to talk to you."

Mulder now rolled away from her and onto his back.  His hand
moving back and forth on his forehead.   She could sense that
what was coming was big, and her heart began to beat faster at
the idea of what he could want to say to her.  

"I'm dying."

Scully could hardly breathe, both at how incredible what he had
said was, and at the fact that it had been not at all what she
thought he would say.

"What?"

"I'm dying.  I didn't go to England to look at crop circles.  I
have been seeing doctors, and trying to find some kind of
treatment, some kind of answer.  It's a degenerative brain
disease, and the source and origin is unknown.  Untreatable."

"But..."

"I am so sorry I haven't told you.  I couldn't.  I didn't know
how.   After everything we have seen and endured, I couldn't bear
this.  Your cancer, my sister, your sister, my parents.  After
all that had come full circle in this last year, and how close
you and I have come to, well...  Scully, I just couldn't accept
that this story wasn't going to have a happy ending."

Scully could feel so much welling up inside her, and she wanted
to just be angry with him for not telling her, for keeping this
from her, for having more secrets.  But she couldn't.  The
reality that after all they had been through, she might lose him,
was too much.

Instead she curled into him and held him as the sorrow poured
from him.  His sobbing was unbearable for her.  This was not a
sadness for what seemed like his impending death, but sorrow for
the loss of what could have been for them.  A genuine, huge pain
for the hardships that they had endured.  And now, for the
seeming futility of it all.

They lay like that for what seemed like hours, until finally
Mulder fell asleep.  Scully still lying behind him, slowly moved
to get out of the bed so he could sleep undisturbed the rest of
the night.  Methodically, she took her folded clothes from the
chair and dressed.  She looked in the mirror at herself and then
back at him lying, almost as she had found him.  She turned to go
home.

In that moment, she realized that home was not her small
apartment in Georgetown.  It never had been, and never would be. 
Home was where Mulder was.  Here.

Her partner.  For seven years they had been partners.  At work. 
And, at the same time they had been to each other what no other
person could possibly be.  She realized that they were, without
question, partners in all other senses of the word.  And maybe,
that realization would mean that they could no longer be the
partners at work they had been.  But suddenly that no longer
seemed important.

"Be with me."

"Scully..."

Mulder stirred again, as Scully moved back into the bed with him.

"Something fundamental has changed for me tonight, Mulder.  Be
with me."

"Shouldn't you be down on one knee, Scully?"

They both smiled, and for a brief moment the hugeness of the
whole night subsided. But she knew what she meant.  And, it
wasn't because he was dying.  And it wasn't because of Daniel, or
religious awakenings.  She knew that the moment had finally come
to acknowledge what they both had known for a long time.  

"This isn't about formalizing what we both know to be true,
Mulder.  Its about accepting that who we are to each other
matters more than anything else.  I want to be with you.  Be your
partner, in all sense of the word.  Now."

"You mean..."

Scully began to giggle.  That beautiful, childlike, unrestrained
giggle that only emerged at the most crazy and inopportune times.

"Yes, and no.  I mean, oh god Mulder, you know what I mean.  This
isn't about sex, or marriage.  Its about you and me and the life
we can have.  That we have been having.  Its about recognizing
where this journey has taken us, and about daring to believe in
what might be next."

The silence hung deafeningly between them.  Scully again held her
breath and felt her words floating in the air around her.  Just
then she felt his hand.  Slowly it traced the length of her body,
from her thigh, over her hip, up to her breasts where his fingers
began to dance and flick lightly.  His fingers moved with the
strength and confidence of someone who was very sure of what he
was doing, but also with the gentle delight of a man who was
finally touching his lover's body for the very first time.

"I will be with you Scully.  In all that means.  Always."

While both of them knew that nothing physical that happened
between them could make their commitment to each other any more
strong than it already was, they both felt ready.  Ready to be
partners in all other senses of the word.