From: "Regan M. deVictoria" Date: Wed, 27 Oct 1999 01:41:43 -0600 Subject: NEW: Reaction (1/1) Source: direct Reaction (Part 1/1) Author: R. M. deVictoria Address: devilwbluedress@hotmail.com Rating: PG Category: Story; humor Spoilers: None Summary: Scully divulges a secret; Mulder behaves rashly; the agents confront each other. Author's Note: I welcome any feedback. Archiving is also welcome; please notify me. I sat down at my desk and waited. It was five o-seven a.m. when I heard her heels clicking down the hall, approximately three hours ahead of schedule and exactly the time I had expected her to show up this particular morning. After a sleepless night in the FBI basement, I knew my days were numbered. There was a pause before she entered the room, and then the door was thrown open; before me stood Scully, red-haired and blue-eyed as always, only this particular morning she looked as though she had entered into a state of shock, only to come out on the other side as bewildered and confused as she had ever been in her organized, well-planned, straight-forward and incredibly predictable life. There was nothing for me to say; or rather, there was nothing I was allowed to say, because when I stood up to offer a few words, she shot me out of the sky like a M-16 with one simple word: "Whatthefuck?" Actually, there were three words involved, but they were united under machine-gun rapid-fire speech as she whirled on her heel, spinning her arms around in bewilderment. Her eyes were the size of small onions, and the rock on her finger was much bigger. *** Scully's romantic past is about as interesting as a bump on a log. For years I put my money on virginity, and her discovered deflowerment, later recounted to me while under heavy sedation, had been equally unimpressive; it was late, she was twenty, he was a business major with rich parents and great hair. She tended to date fashionably plain men with mediocre IQ's and steady jobs, and they never worked out because she was, admittedly, unenthusiastic. It was over black coffee and expense reports that she said to me, "My heart, while increasingly encouraged, refuses to pitter-pat" and I, while feeling sorry for her, understood why =96 Scully didn't seem like a "pitter-pat" kind of woman. I remember the day Scully told me. There was an irregular lightness in her step and the twinkle in her eyes not only alarmed me, but annoyed me. The conservative, tight smile she normally reserved just for me had transformed into a sloppy open-mouthed grin and came accompanied by a giggle. I was aghast. When the humming started, I just couldn't take it anymore: "Scully, what the hell is going on with you?" She looked at me blankly, as if she couldn't remember my name. Then she grinned, bit her lip coyly and poked me in the chest. "Nothin' " she said, sounding remarkably like a high school student zoned out on dope, "what's yours?" I responded like any other insanely jealous, unexplainably ditched partner would do =96 I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, hard. It took a few seconds for it to hit her. She looked up into my eyes, took a deep breath, put her hands on my chest and hissed "What the hell do you think you're doing?". Then she pushed me over. When I picked myself off of the floor, she was leaning against the filing cabinet, hands over her eyes. "I'm in love" she groaned, "is it obvious?" The words hit me like a cold, leaden ball. I choked. I sputtered. I coughed into my palm and told her the truth - "Yes" =96 and then I gathered up what remained of my pride into a tiny ball, throwing it at her in the form of a question. "What's his name?" I was searching her for a sign, for anything that said "Mulder" on it. Scully looked up then, her face a mixture of excitement and bemusement. "Mary." *** I think my first reaction was to drop my jaw, but I'm not sure because I promptly fainted. Scully was fussing over me when I awoke seconds later, her concern apparent and her amusement quite obvious. "Mulder, this is not unheard of. I had no idea you'd be so shocked." I stared at her. "Mulder, you're staring at me." Her eyebrows narrowed. "Look, you may be surprised to know that recent polls estimate that over 30 percent of women today have considered or have acted on homosexual impulses. Bisexuality is not uncommon and it doesn't make me suddenly worthy of oggling, so get over it. " Bisexuality. Bi-sex-ual. Never has a word both shocked and reassured me at the same time. I grabbed my coat off the hanger and marched off. "Mulder, where are you going?" "I have to make an impulse purchase" I said, "I'll be back soon." *** "Wrap it up" I told the jeweler, "and send it out with the words "Will you marry me? Love, Mulder" on a card." "Yes sir." stammered the amazed salesman. "American Express or Visa?" *** Admittedly, it was a desperate move. That Dana Scully could love someone other than myself was shocking...that she loved another woman was utterly mind-numbing. This was Ms. Prude, Miss TurtleNeck 99, not your stereotypical lesbian with short hair and steel-toed boots. So my plan was, shall we say, a little lacking in the sane department; still, I did not expect her to react the way she did. Upon receiving my lavish expression of dementia, Scully called my apartment =96 twenty-eight times, according to my answering machine. When I didn't answer, she drove over and promptly kicked in my door (a move later blamed on her fear that my brain was hemorrhaging) and, upon discovering my absence, drove to FBI headquarters, where "only Mulder would hide from another FBI agent". Her crude and uncharacteristic welcome =96 "whatthefuck" =96 confirmed my latest fear: she was actually in love with this woman and not repressing an unrequited desire for yours truly. My heart broke. My prepared acceptance speech of her unyielding love no longer applicable, I did as any rejected suitor might have done: I acted casual. "What's up?" I asked her, shrugging my shoulders in feigned nonchalance. "What's up?" She repeated, incredulously. "What's UP? I tell you I'm seeing a woman, you propose to me, and then you ask me What's up? Are you out of your mind? I'll tell you what's up, you stupid son of a bitch =96 your lease on life! What the hell were you thinking?" Plan B: act surprised. "Oh, Scully," I chuckled nervously, "you thought that was an engagement ring? You know, it's funny, I was just remembering how much you like diamonds and I thought, shoot, Scully's birthday is in a couple of months, why not get her-" "Cut the crap, Mulder." I froze obediently. "Why can't you just admit that you're in love with me?" There was nowhere to go. "Because I'm not, Scully!" It was the truth. I cringed instinctively, expecting her blue eyes to nail me to the wall in one solid glare. Opening my eyes slowly, like a kid watching a horror flick he cannot bear to miss, I gathered all my strength, swallowed my fear and looked at her. She was shaking with silent laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks. I watched as Dana Scully, doctor of forensic medicine and the poster child of scrutiny, caught my glance and burst into high, screaming squeals, falling to the floor. Thoroughly embarrassed, I waited patiently for a few minutes, shuffling my hands and removing an imaginary spot from the floor with my toe. Every time Scully would begin to recover, she'd look at my crest-fallen face and crack up helplessly, sliding back to the linoleum with a burble of mirth. Ten minutes later, gasping for air, she pulled herself up near the filing cabinet and wiped her eyes. "Mulder, if you don't love me...what is this about?" Avoiding eye contact, I said nothing. "Mulder..." she murmured, her tone changing from scornful to tender, "were you afraid you would lose me?" I nodded. "Jealous?" I nodded. "Oh Mulder." she wrapped her arms around me carefully. "You know how much I value our friendship. And of course there have been times when I might have wanted more. But what we have is special. You understand that, don't you?" I nodded. "But Mulder," Scully's voice deepened as she pulled away from me to lean against the wall. "to propose to a woman you've never been involved with simply because you're jealous or worried is ridiculous. And to think that you can change a bisexual woman by marrying her is not only absurd, but arrogant." I felt sheepish. Ashamed. Confused. "Scully?" She looked up at me. "Why are you wearing my ring?" It was a moment to remember; Scully without a single thing to say. "Well, I...I didn't want...it wasn't like...the thing is...Mulder, I don't know..." Were those tears? Actual, liquid tears? I peered down at her. Although she had hidden her eyes beneath a sweep of hair and was bowing her head, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on above the trembling lip. Scully was crying. "Scully, either you're going to tell me that you're menstrual, which I know isn't the case because you never start your period before the 5th of the month, or you're going to tell me that Mary broke up with you." She looked startled. "How come you know when my period will start?" "I...c'mon Scully, we travel together...I just know." "Oh." Her lower lip quivered. "Let me guess =96 she wasn't ready for a long term relationship?" She sniffled, and ran her nose along her shirt sleeve. "How did you know?" I tucked that loose strand of hair behind her ear tenderly. "Think back. How long has it been since I've had a date?" She laughed, touched her hand to my cheek and shook her head. "Mulder - we're talking about women together." There was silence for a moment. "Scary." I pulled her into a bear-hug embrace, noting that the usual tension she usually exhibited in the lower spine melted away as she slowly relaxed into my hug. "I'm your friend =96 you can open up to me, okay?" "Okay." She said with a smile, pulling away and taking a seat. We remained in the office for three hours, talking. She would be mid-story, her head tossed back casually, relaxed and laughing easily, and it would hit me - here was this beautiful woman that I had hardly known. I had risked her life and saved it, and yet I had had no idea who she was as a person. The jealously, fear, anger and worry that I generally associated with her melted into simple amazement at her wonderful, remarkable self. It was the single most metamorphic moment of my life. Eight o'clock that morning, just as the sun was coming up (through the tiny slit of a concrete crack the FBI called a "skylight" in our basement office) she got up to leave. We were both exhausted, but smiling. I felt incredible. She had put on her coat and was turning to go when she looked back at me. "Mulder. The reason I'm wearing the ring? I...um, when it came to my house, I tried it on, and...oh Mulder, it won't come off!" She was wearing a black jacket and her face was pleasantly flushed. The sparkle in her eye, the red of her hair...it was then I knew that I loved her. A love without expectations, a love of friendship, a beautiful love. "Scully...what makes you think it was supposed to?" I kissed her on the forehead and walked past her, our shoulders brushing as I went. She watched me go, eyes glistening. We both knew it was right...it just wasn't right now. THE END