From: SpecialAgentAndi@aol.com
Date: Sun, 27 Jan 2002 01:03:27 EST
Subject: A Quiet Thing (1/1) by Tallulah Jane Whitaker
Source: direct

TITLE:  A Quiet Thing

AUTHOR:  Tallulah Jane Whitaker

CLASSIFICATION:  Vignette/MSR, Post-Milagro, Rated PG

SPOILERS:  Milagro and minor Gender Bender (remember 
that one?)  One tiny reference to the movie, but 
blink and you'll miss it.

DISCLAIMER:  Not mine.  They belong to those who 
created them, but I like to think our love and 
support helped them grow.  Oh, and Campbell's Soup 
isn't mine, either.

FEEDBACK:  I would love to hear from you if you liked it or if you
have something constructive to say.  You can flame me if you want,
but I won't be offended, so it probably wouldn't be fun.

ARCHIVE:  Um, sure, if you really want to.  Just let 
me know where.

SUMMARY:  Do the unsaid things really need to be 
said?  A humble idea of what took place in the time 
following Milagro, one of my personal favorites.

NOTES:  This is my first and likely my last fic.  I 
wrote it about a year ago for my own amusement and 
was recently inspired to submit it for you to read.  
Please forgive me if it's a bit cliche.  Jackie Sue, 
this one's for you


A QUIET THING  by Tallulah Jane Whitaker

Mulder watched as the clock in the basement office 
struck 6:00 pm.  He looked over at his partner who 
was busy digging through old files, trying to gain 
some insight on their latest case.

"Mulder, what happened to the file on those people 
that called themselves the Kindred?" Scully asked, 
not looking up.  "Back about five years or so?"

"I dunno," Mulder threw a pencil at the ceiling.  
"Check the S's."

"S's?  Why?"  Scully continued to paw through 
cabinets.

"Shapeshifter."  Mulder looked at the ceiling.  
Scully didn't answer.  He looked at her to find her 
giving him the eyebrow.

"Shapeshifter.  Mulder, what the hell kind of filing 
system-" she stopped and rubbed her temples.  The 
headache that was brewing stopped her from continuing 
the argument.  "You know what, it's Friday, it's 
6:00, and I need to take the weekend off," she began 
making a neat pile of papers on his desk.  "I will 
see you on Monday morning."  She pulled on her coat 
and walked out of the office.  She didn't know why 
this week had had to be so tense.  She just wanted to 
forget that last case, that book, that man, that 
comment-'Agent Scully is already in love.'  
Ridiculous, obviously.  Mulder had seemed to sense 
she didn't want to discuss those cryptic words any 
further, which she was grateful for.

She stepped off the elevator and suddenly felt a 
little pang of guilt.  She had been pretty harsh a 
few minutes ago, and Mulder hadn't done anything that 
terrible..she flipped open her phone and hit the 
speed dial for the office.  He picked up on the first 
ring.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me.  I just wanted to say..if you need 
me, you know how to reach me," she hoped he heard the 
apology in between her words.

He did.  "Okay.  You alright, Scully?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Have a good weekend, Mulder."  She 
hung up, still feeling unsettled.

Mulder felt his own unsettlement as he looked around 
the office.  It was so tiny, and yet somehow it felt 
cavernous and lonely without Scully there.  He had 
sensed her need for space this week and had tried not 
to crowd her with theories and endless questions and 
challenges.  He wondered if she knew that his 
constant barrage of speech was his way of keeping in 
touch with reality-just talking to her kept him 
energized.  He had become addicted to her.  His work 
was his crusade, his crusade was his life, and 
somehow she was the missing piece.  He had meant it 
when he told her that she made him a whole person.  
She kept him alive because knowing she would be there 
the next day made him want to live.

He stood up abruptly.  He didn't know what he was 
going to do, but he knew it was time to tell her and 
make her believe that she made his world a better 
place.
*****************************************************
Scully sighed as she settled herself on the couch, 
her pink silk pajamas in place and a steaming cup of 
herbal tea in her hand.  She decided that she would 
let herself mull over the feelings that she had been 
squelching for-good lord, how long had it been?  
Somewhere in the past five and a half years she had 
allowed Mulder to become a natural extension of 
herself.  Even when they weren't together, she found 
herself hearing his opinions and playing devil's 
advocate with her.  She found herself comparing other 
men she had met to him, and frankly, none of them 
came close to meeting her need for intellectual 
stimulation like Mulder.  And no one seemed to 
understand and balance her conflicting independence 
and need to be comforted..

She shook her head.  She was just getting carried 
away.  Mulder was certainly not perfect, and was 
certainly not the person she had visualized herself 
falling in love with-

She sat up straight.  Was that what Padgett had 
sensed?  Is that what other people saw when they 
looked at her?  Of course she loved Mulder, he had 
become her best friend.  Where she ended, he began.  
But that didn't mean she was in love with him, did 
it?

She jumped at the knocking coming from the door.  She 
knew who it was before she even got up.  'Whoa, 
Dana,' she thought.  'This is why you gave up 
daydreaming years ago.'

She went to the door and checked the peephole.  Yup, 
it was him.  She unlocked the door and opened it.  
"What is it, Mulder?" she said warily, eyeing the 
brown paper grocery bag and noting his jeans and t-
shirt under his gas station style jacket.  Not work 
attire.  

"I know what you're thinking, Scully, but I promise you 
I won't make you go anywhere," he smiled, asking her 
wordlessly if he could come in.  She stepped back and 
let him in.

He walked past her and headed for the kitchen, where 
he put down the bag.  She followed him.  "Mulder, 
what are you doing here?" she asked after watching 
him unpack the bag.

"Thought you could use some comfort food.  And maybe 
a friend," he said casually, opening a can of Chunky 
Vegetable Soup.  He emptied the contents into a sauce 
pan and turned on the gas burner.  He could hear the 
protest before she could even get the words out.  "I 
know, Scully, you're fine.  That's great.  I'm fine, 
too.  So we'll be fine and eat soup and sandwiches 
together."

"Mulder, I-"

He stopped her by putting his hands on her shoulders.  
"Relax, Scully.  And pour us some wine."  He stared 
her down until she sighed and turned to the cabinet 
to get the glasses.  She poured and handed him one.

"What are we drinking to, Mulder?" she asked dryly.

"To you, Scully.  To the fact that although I have 
spent the last few years trying your patience, you 
still show up for work every morning," he half-smiled 
and lifted his glass to hers.
She raised and eyebrow.  "Okay," she said skeptically 
as she clinked his glass.  They both sipped.  "You 
know, Mulder, you didn't do anything.  I'm sorry if 
I've made you feel guilty."

He looked at her for a minute.  Then he turned back 
to the soup and stirred in silence.  He could feel 
her standing there, feeling uncomfortable, but he 
really didn't know what to say.

Finally, it was she that spoke.  "I'll get out some 
bowls," she said, moving to the cabinets next to the 
stove.

He watched her reaching above her head and was 
suddenly aware of her smallness.  Her presence was 
always so full that he forgot most of the time that 
she was so petite.  She was struggling now to reach 
the soup bowls.  Before he realized he was moving he 
was behind her.  He felt her stiffen.

"Let me get that," he muttered, easily taking down 
two bowls.  He put them on the counter, but couldn't 
bring himself to move.  He was a little dizzy from 
breathing in the scent of her shampoo.

She was a bit lightheaded herself, suddenly finding 
herself pinned against the counter by her partner.  
She looked at his hands next to hers on the tile and 
ran over every moment like this that had come and 
gone in hallways and hospitals and ice caps and even 
right here in this apartment.  Suddenly, she wondered 
if Mulder ever had the same thoughts she had been 
distracted by on her couch earlier.

She shivered a little when he bent and kissed the top 
of her head and rubbed the top of her head and rubbed 
her shoulders for a moment.

"You're all knotted up," he mumbled in her ear as he 
rubbed his thumbs at the base of her neck.

"Mulder, it's burning," Scully said at full voice.

"Shh.  Relax.."

"No, the soup!"  Scully reaced for the burner as the 
liquid started to bubble over.  She turned off the 
heat and it subsided.

Mulder couldn't help but laugh at the irony of that 
little incident.  Scully looked at him, alarmed.  
Then, slowly, she began to smile and finally to 
laugh.  They stood there like idiots, laughing.  
Finally, Mulder walked to her and wrapped his arms 
around her, resting his chin on her head.
She hugged him back, enjoying the warmth of him. 
 
"Mulder?" she said after a moment.  She pulled her 
head back and looked him in the eyes.  "Know what I 
want?"

"No, I don't," he lifted a hand to touch her face and 
brush her hair behind her ear.

She took a deep breath.  "Grilled cheese," she said 
seriously.  He looked confused for a moment, then 
they both grinned again.

"You got it," he said, releasing her and turning back 
to the stove.

They ate in companionable silence, relaxing with the 
aid of hot soup and a little wine.  'How could I have 
been so silly,' thought Scully.  This was Mulder, her 
partner, her best friend, and in some cases almost a 
brother.  Their alliance was built on the highest 
level of respect, and with that came a love deeper 
than romantic, well, there was nothing wrong with 
feeling that way.  It wasn't crossing any lines.  No 
one could accuse them of breaking protocol.  Not in 
this case, anyway.  Of course, it was probably best 
to keep the involuntary physical reaction she had 
when he invaded her personal space to herself.
"Hey, Scully, come back," Mulder said, amused.  His 
amusement faded when he saw the half-shocked, half-
confused look in her eyes.  He reached across the 
table for her hand.  "Where do you go, Scully?  
Sometimes I just can't find you."

"I'm sorry, Mulder."  She watched him play with her 
fingers.  "I guess I'm just in a weird place right 
now."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Mulder asked 
cautiously.

She met his eyes.  Something inside her ached to 
crawl into his arms and tell him everything she was 
thinking and worrying over.  But fear stopped her.  
"I don't know, Mulder, I guess I'm just-tired."
He didn't buy it.  But he'd humor her.  He released 
her hand and pushed back from the table.  "Scully, 
let me ask you something.  What is your greatest 
fear?"

She blew out a breath she'd been holding.  "Jeez, 
Mulder, that's um, that's really hard."  She 
considered.  "I think that all of us fear futility.  
Or facing our own mortality."

"But what are you most afraid of?"  Mulder probed 
gently.

She sighed.  He didn't give up easily.  He never did, 
that was what she was most attract- what she most 
respected about him.  "Well, I guess right at this 
moment I'm afraid that this life, this work is the 
end of the line.  That it's all I'll never know.  
It's not as if that's so terrible," she rushed on, 
"it's just that I always thought that if I did great 
work I would feel completely fulfilled.  But I didn't 
know then the things I know now."  She smiled a 
little at her partner.  "I guess when it gets right 
down to it, my greatest fear is loneliness."

Mulder was quiet for a minute.  Then he cleared his 
throat.  "Well, as long as we're being honest, I have 
to tell you that I share that fear.  I think I've 
gone through a similar transition in what's important 
to me."  He took a deep breath.  "You know, I've been 
really careful to leave you alone this week Scully, 
but when you left today, I realized maybe I shouldn't 
leave you alone so much.  Or," he continued, losing 
confidence at the blank look on her face, "maybe 
that's what you want me to do.  I don't know."  He 
watched the confusion dart across her face before she 
looked at the table, then he took her hand in both of 
his.  "I just realized that when I leave you alone, 
you leave me alone.  And I don't want that."  His 
voice had become a whisper.

She opened her mouth to say something and was 
surprised to find a knot in her throat.  Then she 
found that she was holding back tears.  What was 
wrong with her?  Finally, she gently took her hand 
from Mulder's and stood up.  "I'm going to get some 
water.  Why don't you go sit on the sofa and make 
yourself comfortable."  She willed herself to look at 
him.  "I think maybe we should say a few of those 
unsaid things."  She walked into the kitchen.

He sat at the table for a moment after she left and 
ran his hands through his hair.  This was starting to 
feel surreal.  Things Unsaid.  That could be the name 
of a television series starring him and Scully.  They 
didn't have to talk, they just knew at this point 
what the other was feeling.  But maybe they had been 
pretending they didn't see something, maybe it was 
best to get it out there.  He had come here 
determined to..to what?  To win her over?  To tell 
her what she already knew, what he had in fact 
already told her-that he needs her?  Or was it to 
forever change their relationship by saying what he 
was now unable to ignore?  He went to the living 
room.

When she returned, she found him sitting at one end 
of the couch, shoes off, feet on the floor, and hands 
folded between his knees.  She took a seat at the 
other end and sat back, feet also on the floor.  She 
reached out to hand him a glass of water, which he 
took and muttered a thanks you.  They sat in silence 
for a few minutes, sipping water and both searching 
for the first thing to say.

Finally, Mulder put his glass on the coffee table, 
took Scully's from her, and placed it next to his.  
Without looking her in the eye, he pulled her to him 
and shifted so his back was in the corner of the sofa 
and she was settled in the V of his legs, her head 
against his chest.

She didn't resist.  It didn't seem the time to play 
hard to get.  She let herself be pulled and curled 
herself up against him, letting her hand come to rest 
over his heart.  The warmth of his arms once again 
through her silk pajamas was so comforting..

He ran his fingers through her hair, breathing her in 
and surrendering to how perfect this moment was.  He 
kissed the top of her forehead, right at her hairline 
and mustered up the courage to speak.

"Scully, I don't know if this is comforting or not, 
but you don't have to be lonely.  I'm always phone 
call away."

His voice vibrated through her.  Suddenly, she wanted him to talk for
hours.  Instead, she answered him. "That phone works both ways."

He held her a little tighter and they both reverted 
back to silence.  In about fifteen minutes, Mulder 
felt her breathing even out and knew she was getting 
some much needed sleep.  He pulled the blanket from 
the back of the couch and draped it over the two of 
them, not intending to leave her until she asked him 
to.  As he drifted off to sleep, he realized that 
even in a conversation about things unsaid, they 
hadn't needed to talk.  Yet they both knew that a 
huge leap had occurred and that their lives and 
hearts would never be the same.