From rfarwell@foxnet.net Mon Dec 09 19:18:25 1996 (Distributed to EMXC December 5th - 9th, 1996. Uploaded to atxc December 9th, 1996.) SUMMARY: SRA M/S romance. A romance and angst piece, with a flashback. After some unexpected developments between Mulder and Scully during an out-of-town case, bad things happen to good people. But a year later, some flames start to rekindle, and things begin to change... (rated PG-13 for occasional language???) DISCLAIMER: The characters used in this piece of fiction belong to Chris Carter and da gang at TenThirteen Productions, FOX, and anyone else who owns a piece of them. As much as I use them, they'll never belong to me. Some situations in the following story have been adapted from the television series, "Lois & Clark": I don't own these scenarios. As a matter-of-fact, Deborah Joy Levine and Roundelay Productions owns one, and Robert Singer and December 3rd Productions owns the other, as does Warner Bros. and possibly ABC. See what happens when you do the Powers That Be Tango? There are two songs used in this work, one being "Breakfast At Tiffany's" which belongs to Deep Blue Something. The other is called "Three Little Words" and belongs to... well, me. Note to all of 'em... please don't sue me. 'Ta very much. NOTE: The city of "Misty Point" is fictional, but based on Marina Del Rey, California. Gawd, I miss the warmth of SoCal now that I'm back in my hometown of eternal winter... MANY THANKS TO: Jennifer Bullock, my incredible editor and encourager, for taking the time to help me with this, and kicking me off IRC when it was time to write. :) REKINDLING THE FLAME (1/4) by Jennifer Farwell rfarwell@foxnet.net August 26, 1997 J. Edgar Hoover Building Washington, D.C. He was back. Lord, I'm in trouble... It had been one year since I'd seen him, to the day. One year since the future had looked so promising, then suddenly seemed so dark. One year since the hurt had started, and one year since I'd started feeling cold as hell. The promises had become empty, and the pain had become real. Hatred had planted itself in my very core, and resentment had built. And as I walked into Assistant Director Skinner's office on that mockingly sunny summer day, the year melted away. In spite of my flailing attempt to hold onto it, I felt all aftereffects of my agony slipping, just beyond my reach. Oh God, help me be strong... I saw him there, looking exactly as he had one year ago. At first, the anger flared up inside of me. What right did he have to be here and seem unharmed, when I'd suffered through an entire year of hell? What right did he have to show up again, just when I was beginning to heal? And, what gave him the nerve to stand up and acknowledge my presence as if nothing ever happened, when he couldn't even bring himself to look me in the eyes? Give me the strength to get through this... Skinner looked at both of us, waiting for the usual greetings before proceeding with the purpose of the meeting. I had to fight to keep my voice under control, so as not to reveal every conflicting emotion which danced its way through my soul. "Hello, sir," I nodded, then quickly added, "Mulder." I couldn't look at him, this man I should loathe. I knew he was now looking at me, searching every movement for a signal of what I was feeling. "Hi, Scully." At that moment, I wanted to slap him. I ached to hit him so hard, that the bullet I once put in his shoulder would seem like a cake walk in comparison. Instead, I took the seat beside him, and focused my attention on Skinner. If he sensed any tension, Skinner did not let on. He began the explanation for this meeting without hesitation. "Agent Scully," he addressed me, "as you are now aware, Agent Mulder has returned from his year's leave of absence." *No kidding,* I thought bitterly. The bastard was back... grudgingly, I had to give him credit for that. Truthfully, I'd thought he either wouldn't have the gall to return, or he'd get himself killed before he could. Skinner continued. "A year ago when he took the leave, you and I decided together that it would be best to temporarily to shut down the X-Files until Agent Mulder returned." I nodded, remembering all too well. "This meeting is to inform you that as of today, the X-Files division is reopened. Agent Scully, you have been reassigned to the division, as has Agent Mulder. And," he picked up a folder, "here is your first assignment." He handed the folder to Mulder, a sign that we had been dismissed. How will I make it through this? My stomach had turned to ice. Nothing around me seemed real, though it cruelly was. It wasn't that I was in shock of this happening - I had been told a year ago that this day would come. It was the fact that I now had to deal with an impossible situation. Standing up, I headed to the door and out of the office, ahead of Mulder. Once outside, I briefly leaned against the wall for support while I collected myself, until I felt him beside me. I straightened, and stiffly walked ahead of him to the elevator. He followed after me, and once inside the all-too-small space, pressed the button for the basement floor. The doors closed, and suddenly, I became claustrophobic. I was trapped here with this man whom I should despise. The stranger who was so familiar to me. I could smell his scent, the scent I had known and took comfort in what seemed to be an eternity ago. Oh lord... why? Why had he come back? How could he be so professional and together, when I was falling apart inside? I had missed him, hated him, wondered about him... loved him. I wanted to scream at him, and at the same time never wanted to speak to him again. Why couldn't he at least have the decency to appear as if he, too, had been to hell and back? Why...? At that moment, somewhere before reaching the basement level, I felt moisture on my cheek. No... God, no. I couldn't be crying. He couldn't do this to me. I was supposed to be strong, and act as if I didn't care. What the hell was wrong with me? And, dammit, he had noticed. He turned to me, seeming to have a silent debate with himself. For the second time that day, he spoke my name. It was said with a gentleness, and a note of regret. God... why couldn't he have died? It would have been easier than this. "Scully..." he trailed off. Lord, I was in too deep... I said nothing. Really, what was there to say? The wounds of 365 days ago were open, as if they'd been put there only that day. The pain was still raw. In a way, it was as if the year had never happened, and this was the day he had left. What a contradiction, that I could feel this way upon his return. One year and one day ago, I'd thought we'd have a future together. Now, I didn't want him anywhere near me. Mercifully, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. I now had a whole basement in which to distance myself from him. Yet, as I stepped into the large office we'd once shared, the space seemed smaller than the confines of the elevator. We had so much history in this place I hadn't entered for a year. We'd shared so much, learned so much in this room, about the world out there and about each other. A wave of dizziness swept over me. Before I knew it, Mulder's hands had caught my elbows, steadying me. I could feel his breath on my neck; sense how perfectly his chin would rest on my head. When he spoke, his breath tickled down my spine, and every nerve in my body felt his very being. His voice was low, almost hoarse. "Don't I get a hug?" I wondered if that was supposed to be an attempt at humour, or if he wanted me to yell. Was I scaring him with my silence? The Dana Scully he'd left behind was never one to sit back and not react. Maybe it was time for him to learn that that part of me had left 52 weeks ago, and never returned. I was shaking inside, with anger, sorrow, and confusion, but I could not let it show. He didn't deserve the satisfaction of knowing his effect on me, or knowing what he had put me through. I quickly stepped away from his touch, and walked over to my desk. Ripping the plastic off of my chair, I sat down and glanced up at him. "Welcome back, Mulder." My tone was cool, uncaring, and I watched as it cut right through him. Good. The bastard deserved it. Did he really expect things could return to what they had been? Maybe we could be partners again, though it would be uncomfortable. I wasn't going to make it easy for him. We couldn't be best friends again, not as we once were... I used to have complete trust and faith in him, but all that had changed. One year ago, today. I watched as he opened the folder Skinner had given him. I saw the moment the blood drained from his face, and the terrified expression appeared. When he composed himself, he could not look at me. He instead stared at nothing, his silence setting off a warning bell within me. For the first time of my own admission, I spoke. "Is the case really that bad?" I asked. He didn't turn in my direction, but held out the folder to me. I stood up and walked over to him to get it, being careful not to brush my fingers against his. As I scanned the document inside, I realized it was not the nature of the case which had caused his reaction, but the location. Involuntarily, I drew a sharp intake of breath. Misty Point, California. Where it all began. Help me survive... * * * August 23, 1996 Misty Point, California It had been a harrowing year, filled with hard-hitting cases, and personal tragedies. This case appeared to be simple enough, and was what I suspected as Skinner's way of giving Mulder and I kind of a vacation. He knew we wouldn't take the days off on our own, unless we were in quarantine, so here we were on surveillance, in sunny California. It seemed to be evening surveillance only, freeing up the day to go out and enjoy the city. Misty Point sported a spectacular beach, and though we were on a case, Mulder and I found ourselves relaxing. All we had to do was check into the hotel we'd be running our observation from, then hit the town. I suppose I shouldn't say, "all we had to do" - there was one catch. There was only one room that the building across the alley could be properly observed from, and that was the honeymoon suite. It hadn't been thought of as a good idea for the hotel staff to know an FBI investigation was being conducted - word would spread, and the management would not take too kindly to having frightened customers, therefore being uncooperative - so we were there undercover as newlyweds. We would be sharing the suite, and be under the assumed names of Mr. and Mrs. Sculder. We weren't prepared for the hotel's newlywed treatment, so I wasn't expecting the courtesy videotaping of the start to our "honeymoon". The camcorder-wielding bellboy entered the suite before us, accompanied by the worker handling our luggage. Mulder stopped me outside the door, eyes twinkling mischievously. Before I could stop him, he scooped me up to carry me over the "threshold", and enjoyed every minute of my shocked expression. I found myself putting on a phony smile for the camera, then shot Mulder a dark look. Taking it as a warning, he put me down and concerned himself with playing the role of the eager new husband. He gave the two young men generous tips, then ushered them out of the room. Closing the door, he looked at me and laughed. That in itself was surprising. I guess the surroundings had put Mulder in good spirits. He continued to look at me, smiling. "What?" I demanded, feeling self-conscious. "How does it feel to be a blushing new bride?" he joked, seeming to adore every moment of this charade. "One more newlywed joke," I growled, "and you'll be bungee jumping off that balcony, without a cord." He refrained from any more wedding humour until half and hour later, as I headed to the washroom to change into more vacation-like clothes. As I started to close the door, he called from behind me, "Honeymoon jitters?" In response, I slammed the door. Misty Point was a gorgeous city. It seemed as if I could just walk forever, taking in the calming scenery. The streets were lined with palm trees and shrubs, while bright flowers bloomed everywhere. The warm sunshine made it almost tropical. Even the smog wasn't so bad - if you looked into the distance, it was noticeable, but when looking straight up, all you could see was the clear blue sky. It really was a perfect vacation spot, I thought to myself, making a mental note to one day return for a _real_ holiday. When was the last time I had taken a true vacation, anyway? Not for years. What an exciting life I led. Mulder and I roamed the streets during the late afternoon, falling easily into the tourist character. We ventured into some shops, and cringed at the tacky tourist t-shirts. Just before dinner, we ventured along the walkway of the beach, and saw a camera crew setting up for filming. "Welcome to California," Mulder commented. I grinned. We ate at an oceanfront restaurant, one that erased any stereotypes of California cuisine from my mind. I'd been under the impression that they ate very little, and ate healthily. This was not true, I soon learned. While Mulder attacked his meal with a happy smile, I could hardly even eat half of mine. I'd definitely forego the dessert. As the sun began to set, we headed back to the hotel. This was so... nice. For once, we didn't seem to be in any grave danger, and had the chance to act like ordinary people. It had been years since I'd done that, and I had to admit that it felt good. For a few magical days, I didn't have to worry for my life. To think, I used to take that for granted. It was hard keeping a straight face, walking into the honeymoon suite. I'd resigned myself to being single years ago, when work became my life. Yet here we were, special agents of the FBI who chased down everything from liver-eating mutants to UFOs, posing as honeymooners. How was that for ironic? At 8 o'clock, we started to set up the surveillance equipment. Mulder unzipped a duffel bag and pulled out a tripod, which would hold a video camera. He began to walk over to the window, when he froze in mid-stride. He turned around to face me and in one swift motion, threw the tripod under the bed and me on top of it. As he lowered himself over me, I was in shock. "Mulder!" I shrieked, "Are you cra--" The pressing of his lips over mine cut off the rest of the question. After the initial surprise, I found myself relaxing into the gentle, exploring kiss, and enjoying it. As it deepened, and Mulder threaded his hands through my hair, I heard a voice behind us. It was an obviously embarrassed chambermaid, I realized, though I never did see her face. I heard her say in a strongly accented voice, "Towels, yah?", then heard her leave. As the door clicked shut, Mulder slowly ended the kiss and sat up. I was shaking, realizing I had relished the feel of his lips on mind, and responded maybe a little too well. "Sorry," Mulder apologized. "I heard her at the door, and didn't want to blow our cover." Still recovering from the incident, I could only ask, "Doesn't anybody knock around here?" I, too, sat up, knowing my face would be flushed. I couldn't look at him, as an awkward moment of silence passed. Finally, he spoke. His voice was low and quiet, as if he was unsure what kind of mood this event had brought on. "I guess we should get back to setting up the equipment." "I guess so." My tone matched his. That night was torture for me. It was as if his kiss had heightened my senses, somehow. I could sense every movement he made. My skin burned wherever any part of him would come in contact with me. My lips would scream for his kiss whenever he stood near me. What was wrong with me? We'd been partners for years, and he'd never had this drastic of effect on me. Did he feel it too? Probably not. To him, the kiss had been a way of detracting attention from what we were really doing in the room. For me, it had been real. Oh God, what was I thinking? Mulder was my partner, and my best friend. How could one brush of his lips have me ready to throw all that away? "Scully, are you okay?" I jumped, yelping a little. He had startled me. An expression of concern on his face, Mulder came over to where I was sitting on the couch, and touched my arm. "What's the matter?" he asked, looking at me closely. "Are you feeling all right?" His touch sent a jolt through my nerves. It was almost electric. *Calm down, Dana. He's touched you before.* Not looking up at him, I replied, "I'm fine." I saw a frown play across his lips, but he said nothing. After glancing at me once more, he stood up and went over to the window. Raking his hands through his hair, he sighed and began to pace. I sank deeper into the corner of the couch. It was going to be a long night. Fifteen minutes later, neither of us could take it anymore. Plopping down on the couch in defeat, Mulder impatiently searched through the TV guide. "There's got to be a movie on one of these channels," he mumbled. I gave a wry grin. "Nothing that's your usual brand of entertainment." Caught. He glanced at me, then tossed the TV guide in my direction. Before it could sail past my head, I captured it with a smug smile. I scanned through the listings. "How about 'Speed'?" I suggested. "Action and romance." "The story of our lives," he joked. Well, meant to joke. If all these new feelings hadn't been bombarding me, I may have found it funny. Maybe action and romance _was_ the story of our lives. Wrong. My life. There was no way Mulder could be feeling the same way I was, and still appear so calm... Mulder left to get movie snacks from a vending machine. I took this opportunity to let out a huge breath, and flung myself down on the couch. Inwardly, I groaned. How was I going to manage this? When I heard the door open and close, and something being put into the mini-microwave, I didn't look up from my position. It was easier not to. A few minutes later, I felt my head being lifted, Mulder sitting down on the couch, and my head being released again. Oh, perfect. Now my head was in his lap. Could this be any more stressful for me? I squeezed my eyes shut, praying for the week to go by quickly. When we got back to Washington, everything would be okay. This was just temporary insanity. Right? "Ah, Scully?" My eyes flew open, to see Mulder peering down at me. "How are you going to watch the movie with your eyes shut like that?" Dutifully, I turned my gaze towards the television. Mercifully, I was sucked into the enthralling misadventures of Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock - or in this case, Jack and Annie - giving me something else to concentrate on. Unfortunately, my peace was short-lived. "Popcorn?" Mulder asked. That is what he'd found in the vending machine, and used the microwave for. "Yeah," I replied, not moving my eyes from the screen. When I didn't feel the bag being passed to me, I looked up at him. The mischievous grin of early afternoon was there, again. A gnawing sense of dread gripped me. "Open your mouth," he commanded with a teasing smile. I rolled my eyes. "Mulder..." "You won't get any popcorn unless you open your mouth." He held a piece just out of my reach. The aroma wafted towards me, and the need for a piece of it became too great. Finally, I gave in and opened my mouth. He dropped the piece of popcorn into my mouth and smiled. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Maybe not for him. Did he have any idea how incredibly intimate I was finding this? Did he know I'd do anything just to kiss him again... Did he have any clue that his partner was on the verge of insanity? Yikes. One kiss in the spirit of keeping up our cover had led to the explosion of all these thoughts. I guess it had been a long time since I'd had a life. Mulder continued to torment me this way, throughout the movie. It was almost a relief to see the last scene of the movie, if only I hadn't wanted at that very moment to be handcuffed around him just as Annie was handcuffed around Jack. I let out a sigh of frustration, a little too loudly. Mulder tossed me an odd look. I averted my gaze from him, concentrating on the closing credits that were scrolling by. It was now midnight. By 4 o'clock a.m., my nerves were shot. Exhaustion wasn't helping my self-restraint any, nor was it helping my temper. We decided to pack it in for the night, for it didn't appear as if who we were watching would show up. It was time for sleep. The only question is, who would get the bed? I felt that after the roller coaster of emotions he'd put me through that night, I deserved it. I guess it didn't help that I was grumpy, as well. Mulder saw me heading towards the bed, and stopped me. "We didn't decide who gets the bed the first night. How 'bout we flip for it?" "How 'bout I lend you a pillow?" "It's a big bed, how 'bout we share?" he challenged. "How 'bout we flip for it?" I went to my purse and pulled out a quarter. I tossed it into the air, then looked at Mulder. "Call it." "Tails." "Ha! Heads. You get it tomorrow night." Sleepily, I yawned, then collapsed into bed. I watched as Mulder found a blanket and grabbed a pillow from beside me. He turned off the light, then paused for a moment, as if in thought. Our eyes met, and we were both still. It was he who finally broke the silence. "Goodnight, Scully," he said quietly. "Goodnight, Mulder." I pulled the blankets around me tightly. Soon, I fell asleep. Continued in part 2... From rfarwell@foxnet.net Mon Dec 09 19:18:48 1996 See disclaimers in part one. REKINDLING THE FLAME (2/4) by Jennifer Farwell rfarwell@foxnet.net I was awoken the next morning by being tapped on the nose. I opened my eyes to see Mulder grinning. "You were drooling," he explained. Whoa, talk about your feelings of deja-vu. I looked at the pillow, and realized it was dry. "Liar," I mumbled, and rolled over in the other direction. "I know you got the bed, but are you planning to sleep in it all day?" This was impossible. So much for going back to sleep. I sat up, defeated, and faced him with the patience I didn't have. "So help me God, Mulder, if it's any time before 10, you're a dead man." "Then I guess I was still alive two hours ago," he grinned. "It's noon, Scully. Time to get up, have lunch, and hit the beach!" What an assignment we had going, here. Spending the day relaxing in the sand. I had to admit, the beach was heaven. It had been a long time since I'd just sprawled out in the sun, relaxing to the sound of waves crashing against the shore. I laid on my towel on my stomach, and savoured the feeling of the sun warming my body. This was definitely the life. Just lie here, forget last night, forget about Mulder-- "Are you sure you won't burn?" I turned my head to look at Mulder. "Hmmm?" "Well, you're a redhead, and have pretty fair skin, right? Are you sure you won't burn?" he repeated. "Well, come to think of it..." I reached over for my bag, and pulled out a bottle of sunblock. Mulder took it from my hands. "Here, lay back down," he instructed. He began applying the lotion to my back, and suddenly all the thoughts I'd been getting out of my mind came flooding back. How could this man make me feel so many things? It was getting to the point of being ridiculous. When he finished, I thanked him. He said he was going for a swim, and asked if I wanted to join him. I knew it was in my best interests to stay Mulder-less for awhile, so I told him go on, I'd stay on the beach. However, I soon found that I couldn't stay still. Eyeing up an abandoned pail, I had the idea to build a sandcastle. Now there was something I hadn't done since I was eight years old. I was just beginning the foundation of it when Mulder came back from his swim. "Hey, whatcha working on?" he asked. "A sandcastle. Want to help?" "Yeah, I guess so. What do I do?" I handed him the pail. "Go get some water." I'd been concentrating so hard on figuring out the castle's design, that I didn't notice when Mulder crept up behind me with the bucket. Suddenly, I was being doused with water. Caught off-guard, I screamed. That was not the end of it, though. I found myself being scooped up and carried toward the ocean. "Mulder, stop it," I warned. He laughed, and carried me further into the water. "Mulder, put me down!" "If you insist," he agreed, then proceeded to drop me into the water. When I resurfaced and saw the look of amusement on his face, I decided that this meant war. Smiling sweetly at him, I skimmed my arm against the surface of the ocean and got him in the face with a wave of water. Growing up with two brothers had its advantages when it came to water battle. I had forgotten, however, that they had always fought back. Soon, we were engaged in an all-out water fight, laughing and shrieking like little kids. He dunked me underwater, and I tried to push him backwards into an oncoming wave. He caught my wrists, then lifted me so my feet weren't touching the sandy bottom. I was at eye level with him, when the smile died off his face. We inched closer and closer, until I could feel his lips about to touch mine. Softly, we began to kiss. His arms tightened around me, and my hands roamed up his back. As my fingers tangled in his hair, I kissed him with an urgency that frightened me. It was actually happening. _How_ could this be happening? This wasn't an act, or a cover-up... this time it was for real. And here we were, in the middle of the pounding surf, kissing with a need so intense it was almost frightening. A low moan escaped me. This is what I'd wanted, right? Four years of working together, our bond becoming stronger every minute we were together. This was what Mulder wanted... how had he kept it hidden? As we slowly separated, I gazed into the depths of his eyes. There were no shields there, just passion and caring, and perhaps a bit of amazement. Almost as if in a trance, he lowered me so my feet were once again touching the ocean floor, his gaze never once wavering. He kept his arms loosely around my waist, and my arms stayed around him. I don't think I could have moved them if I'd wanted to. Here we stood, on the edge of the unknown, partners, best friends... and more? It was no longer a matter of either of us walking the line... it had happened. It had finally happened. An open admission of the long surpressed feelings, and there couldn't be any going back. An expression of honesty, without words. We stood there, zombies, trying to absorb the shock of what we'd just let happen. Who would be the first to speak? What was there to say? Four years of pent-up longing, all breaking loose in one sweet kiss, and an unspoken communication with a stare that would not break. His hazel eyes searched mine. Bringing one of his arms up, his thumb traced my jawbone. It was as if he had to touch me, to assure himself that this was real. I brought my hand up along his arm, then intertwined my fingers with his. Finally, I looked down at the hand which I held. It was the hand of the one person who knew me better than I sometimes knew myself; the one person I knew could hurt me more than anyone else. I was vulnerable to him, and he was vulnerable to me. We'd crossed over into uncharted territory, looking for a different kind of truth. The most human truth of all. Caring, feeling... love. This was new for both of us. Mulder hadn't been one to let himself be loved - the walls he'd built were so great, I'd thought they'd never be completely down. Yet here we were, hand-in-hand, him beginning to lead me back to the shore. We stayed silent the whole journey there, scared as hell of what was to come. We'd both had relationships, years previous to this, but somehow this was different. Every reaction I had was so strong, and felt so right. I had seen by the look in his eyes, it had been the same for him. It had been a natural progression so far, from partners to friends. Had we really been so foolish as to think it'd never go this far? We returned to our spot on the beach, hands still together. I looked up at him, again. His soulful gaze remained, causing my heart to quicken. We had a bond, and we had a need. He bent his head down to mine, as we tested the waters of our new relationship once more. When we once more broke apart, he took me gently in his arms, where I so perfectly fit. Holding me there, running an arm up and down my back, he whispered, "Let's be careful with each other, Dana." I nodded. This was something special, and we both knew it. We had so much already, and neither of us wanted it to be destroyed. In an unspoken agreement, we both began to collect up our towels and bags, and headed back to the car. There was no conversation as we drove back to the hotel, just the sounds of KOST FM blaring from the speakers. When we got to our room, we saw a light on the phone blinking. We had a message on our voice mail. As Mulder retrieved the message, I flung myself down on the couch, drained and exhilarated from this afternoon's revelation. When I heard the phone being put back into the receiver, I twisted around to look at Mulder. "Who was it?" Mulder looked disappointed, somehow. "That was Skinner. It seems the men we were supposed to be observing turned up in another town, and someone else is watching them. Our stint here is over, and we return to Washington tomorrow afternoon." Two days in paradise, on what appeared to be the easiest and best case of my career. It figured. However... "Does that mean we're free for the evening?" Mulder looked at me and smiled. "Actually, yes. How would you like to end our short-lived vacation? Dinner?" I made a face at him. "Well. you know, food is always a good way to end any vacation. Come to think of it, it's a good way to end any day. You know, that thing called supper and all..." He joined me on the couch, taking me by surprise when he wrapped his arms around me from behind. "No," he said, his voice low. "I meant a real dinner... a nice restaurant, where you and I are there not as partners." "A date?" I supplied. He smiled a little when I said that. "I guess so," he agreed. He chuckled softly. I turned my head around to look at him, and saw the shine and happiness in his eyes. "What?" I asked. "I was just thinking, how much like a first date this feels like." "Uh, Mulder?" I gave him a strange look. "That would be because this _is_ a first date." "That's what's so funny," he explained. After a quizzical glance from me, he elaborated. "We've been together most waking hours of the day for four years, and it's just now that we're finally getting our act together..." "Yeah, but aren't you glad we did?" I asked softly. "Incredibly glad," he breathed, lightly kissing the end of my nose. He looked at me for a long time. "I can't believe it's finally happening." I relaxed against his chest. "Do you know how many times I just wanted to sit like this?" "Do you know how many times I just wanted to hold you like this?" "Spooky, isn't it?" "The spookiest," he returned. "So what time is this dinner thing happening?" I inquired. "Well," he thought for a moment, "what's a good date time?" "My guess would be when we're hungry," I smiled. "Seven?" "Sounds good to me." "Dressy or casual?" He put on an expression of mock offense. "We're making an evening of this, aren't we?" "Yeah, but I was just making sure, cos..." I bit my lip before continuing, "...I didn't think to bring anything dressy here with me. I've got to go shopping. Want to come?" "Well, since I seem to be unable to unattach myself from you," he teased, "I guess I'd better." "Okay then, let's go." I attempted to stand up, but found myself anchored to the couch by Mulder's arms. He looked up in surprise. "Right now?" "Well, when did you think? After dinner?" I disengaged his arms, and grabbed one of his hands. "It won't take too long, I promise. I remember seeing something I liked in a store we went in yesterday." Tugging on his hand like an impatient child, I attempted to get him up off the couch. Slowly and deliberately, he let me pull him up, then nearly sent us both crashing into the wall when he was finally to his feet. This was a side to him I'd never seen before... almost playful. I liked it. I found the store and the dress I'd been hunting for, then made Mulder wait outside while I purchased it. It was a date, after all, and I could surprise him. Although, it would be more like a 'date' married couples go on, considering we'd be sharing the bathroom as we got ready. Strange, but then, that was us. It was all in how you defined normal. At seven that night, I stepped out of the washroom, in full-date ensemble. I watched as Mulder turned from where he was gazing out the window to look at me. I suddenly became a little shy. He'd never really seen me dressed up before, I knew, and now things were a little different. He took in the wide-strapped blue dress that perfectly matched my eyes, with the simple gold chain decorating my collarbone. My hair was wavier than usual and loose, and my makeup slightly heavier. I waited for him to say something, and when he didn't, I realized he was still staring. I saw desire flash through his eyes, and remembering our promise to be careful with each other, decided to lighten the mood. "You don't look so bad yourself," I kidded. The truth was, he was gorgeous. He always had been, but tonight I realized it more. He had been caught. Clearing his throat, he walked over to me. "So... shall we go?" "Does my chariot await?" "Yes, my lady," he played along. "That is, if you consider a Ford Taurus an acceptable chariot." We drove to one of the most elegant restaurants in Misty Point, and were promptly seated. It all seemed so incredibly unbelievable that we should be here in this situation, but we were. Dinner was wonderful. For once, work wasn't mentioned, but we conversed like two normal people with normal lives. We laughed and smiled, and even relaxed. I briefly pondered how I could get us both transferred to an office in southern California, so we could always be in this mood. Maybe it was something in the air of the west coast. Besides the bits of tire rubber, that is. I felt like a person again - one with a life. I hadn't been this happy in a long time. The dessert cart came, and I claimed I couldn't eat another bite, but Mulder grabbed a large slice of chocolate cake. With that all-too-familiar twinkle present in his eyes, he told me to open my mouth. I was about to protest, when I realized it was something I didn't have to put up a fuss about, now. We were being a couple, out on a fun night. Giving in and opening my mouth, he proceeded to feed me pieces of the cake from off of a fork. I savoured it, rolling my eyes and moaning in appreciation. I watched with amusement as Mulder sat back and fidgeted with his shirt collar a slight bit. I, Dana Scully, was having this effect on Fox Mulder. Astounding, really. I took the opportunity to turn the tables on him, and speared a bite of cake onto the fork. He saw it as I aimed it towards his mouth, and wordlessly, he opened it. After the cake was safely in his mouth, my arm went to make its retreat. Suddenly he caught my wrist From across the table, he asked, "May I have this dance?" Yes, there was a dance floor at the restaurant. It hosted several couples at this hour, all looking to be around our age. As the music started, Mulder pulled me close to him. I speculated on what a sight we must have made, him being nearly a foot taller than myself. It didn't matter. It was as though I had been meant to be in that man's arms, for we fit together perfectly. I rested my head against his chest, as the melody continued on. Did you ever listen to me? Have you ever heard? Is friends all that we're meant to be? Would you ever say the word? I've known you for so long now Do I know you at all? Don't tell me that I'm wrong now Don't put up that wall How long can you keep hiding? This game is so absurd Cos all I really want from you Are those three little words... This song was the story of our lives, up until now. Mulder must have been listening to the words as well, because I felt his arms tighten around me. You think that you're protecting me When you're the one who's scared. I know our love is meant to be Expressed nurtured and shared... My mind whirled for the rest of the song. In one day, so much had happened. Everything I'd wanted but never thought I'd have, was here. I was dancing with Mulder to a song made for us, on a night that seemed to belong just to us. It was something I continued to obsess over, but enjoyed doing. The evening had been perfect. It was getting late when we got back to the hotel. It was our last night there, in the honeymoon suite, and Mulder's night for the bed. After going into the washroom to get ready for bed, I came out to find him still sitting on the couch, looking at the television which wasn't turned on. I went over and sat down beside him. "Hey you." He turned his head to me, an expression of warmth crossing his face. "Hey yourself." "So, is the night over?" I asked. "It would appear that way," he replied. "Do I get a goodnight kiss?" "Always," he promised. His lips found mine for the third time that day, and I realized that this was almost addictive. There was a spark there, a hint of a flame. I laid my head against his shoulder. "Pretty crazy day, huh?" "Pretty wonderful day," he corrected. I smiled. He took my hand, and stood up. "What are you doing?" I questioned, as he pulled me up. "Going to bed. We actually have to get up tomorrow." He continued to lead me over to the bed. "Mulder..." I hesitated. "What happened to being careful with each other?" He stopped for a moment, then looked at me seriously. "Dana, is that what you think I wanted? God, no. I mean, one day, well..." he flushed, then his voice dropped lower. "I just wanted to hold you tonight, our last night here. We're going back to our other lives tomorrow, where things are going to be a little more difficult. We will make this work, even with Bureau policies, but I wanted a few more precious moments to remember from our trip here. That's all. Is that okay? I mean, I won't even do that if it's not all right..." Every word found its way into my heart. He was being so sweet, and was scared at the same time. "Of course it's okay," I assured him. "It's perfect." As we laid there that night, we told each other more than we'd ever told anyone. Stories from childhood, feelings on tragedies... we talked late into the night. After we'd been silent for awhile, I felt my eyes begin to drift close. The sound of Mulder's voice forced them open. "I want to tell you something I've never said to anyone... I love you, Dana." Tears pricked at my eyes. All of his walls were down, now. He'd let me in, further than anyone. I whispered softly, "I love you too, Mulder." "Fox." I looked at him, tears threatening to spill. "I thought you hated that name." He closed his eyes, looking to be almost in pain. I became alarmed. "What is it?" "I only told you that to distance myself from you. Even then, that early into our partnership... I felt something. It scared me, Dana. I had been dedicated to the search for Samantha for so long, and hurt so badly by Phoebe... God, I don't know why I was hurt like that. There was nothing there, really. Nothing like this... I wanted to distance myself from you, somehow. I must have been crazy to think it would work." "Then maybe we're both crazy," I murmured. "I kept denying that this would ever happen. Such a skeptic." He chuckled. "Goodnight, Fox." "Goodnight, Dana." I despised wake-up calls. That's the conclusion I came to the next morning, when in a blissful state of semi-consciousness I laid in Fox's arms. I wanted to lie there all day, and probably would have, had it not been for that damn phone. I urged him, "Let it ring." He grinned, but picked it up anyhow. When he hung up, the first thing I did was club him with a pillow. "Ow! Hey!" He looked up in surprise. I returned the pillow to its spot on the bed and settled back in his arms, the picture of innocence. "Yes?" "Good morning," he said softly. "Good morning," I whispered back. "Time to get up, Sleeping Beauty." I groaned. "Don't tell me I get fairytale nicknames now. That's so... so... not us." "Well, would you prefer Little Red Riding Hood?" he asked. "Only if that makes you the Big Bad Wolf." He tried to reach for the pillow to thwap me, but I quickly threw it off the bed. Instead, he settled for the next best thing: Tickling. "It's not gonna work, buddy," I lied. "We'll just have to see about that, won't we?" he countered. I knew I was in for it when his hand found my foot. I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. "Still sure you aren't ticklish?" I nodded my head, but hardly dared to say, "Positive." He grabbed my other foot with his other hand. It was taking all my restraint not to burst into a fit of giggles. "You know, if you scrunch your face up anymore..." he began. I hit his arm. "Isn't it time to get up?" "We can spare a few minutes. Just laugh, and I'll let you go." "And what if I don't want to laugh?" "Then I guess you'll just have to kiss me." I took hold of his arms and led them away from my feet. "I may just have to do that." As I moved closer to him, he suddenly brought one arm back down to tickle my foot. Caught off guard, I shrieked. "I win!" he announced. "Win what?" I pondered. "The first shower." "Not if I get there first," I replied. Bolting up off the bed, I raced for the bathroom. Making it to the door first, I turned around and said sweetly, "You can go find the coffee." We had a long day of travelling ahead of us. We left from LAX at 2 p.m. Pacific Time, which was already 5 p.m. on the East coast. We had a 3-hour stopover in Minneapolis, and finally got back into Washington late that evening. After collecting our luggage, Mulder drove me home. He helped me with the suitcases up to my apartment. I unlocked the door, then turned around to face him. He brought his hand up to my face, cupping my cheek. "I guess this is goodnight." It was a reminder we were no longer in the land of sunshine and relaxation. We were back to our lives, or lack thereof. How strange would it be the next day in the office? How lonely would the night be without him? I met his gaze. Stepping closer to him, I raised myself up high enough to lightly plant a kiss on his lips. His arms encircled me, and he bent his head down. We probably could have stayed out there all night, making out like teenagers. A pity that we were far too sensible for that. He gave me one last long look, before retreating. "Goodnight." I watched as he disappeared down the hall. I leaned against my door. "Goodnight." Continued in part 3... From rfarwell@foxnet.net Mon Dec 09 19:19:31 1996 See disclaimers in part one. REKINDLING THE FLAME (3/4) by Jennifer Farwell rfarwell@foxnet.net I woke up the next morning with a ridiculous smile on my face. This morning, I actually _wanted_ to go to work. I needed to. I couldn't wait to see him, hug him... kiss him good morning. I'd missed the feel of his arms around me the last night, and just wanted to touch him again. *So this is love,* I thought, humming happily as I got ready for work. I could definitely handle feeling like this for the rest of my life. During the drive to the Bureau, I sang along with the radio. I had been in such high spirits for the past couple of days, it all felt like such a dream. This was what we'd been missing for four years... who'd have known? All the more reason to make up for lost time. I arrived at our basement office in disappointment. Mulder - Fox - wasn't there yet. That was odd, but then, we'd gotten in late last night. Hey may have been running a little behind, switching back to Eastern time zone mode. I'd just begin some of the ever-present paperwork, and wait for him to arrive. I soon found that while I attempted the paperwork with my best intentions, I really wasn't getting anything done. It was a relief when the phone rang. Thinking it must be Mulder, I quickly picked it up. "Scully," I answered. "Agent Scully, this is A.D. Skinner." Disappointment flooded through me. "Hello, sir." "I'd like to see you in my office," he continued. "Right now?" I asked, puzzled. "As soon as possible," came the reply. Something was wrong. I could feel it. As I stepped into his office, I felt a queasy sensation in my stomach. Skinner stood up to greet me, then gestured to a chair. "Please take a seat, Agent Scully." I did so, apprehensively. It wasn't often I was called in here by myself, and it was usually Mulder who was in some sort of trouble. I wracked my brain, thinking for something I could have done to have ended up in here. I came up with nothing. "Agent Scully, are you aware that Agent Mulder has taken a year's leave of absence?" I sat there, stunned and speechless. I couldn't have heard him correctly, yet I knew I must have. Leave of absence? A _year_? He hadn't discussed this with me. What was he thinking? I looked at Skinner, confused. He was also looking at me, expectantly. I'd been silent for a beat too long. Collecting myself, I said, "No, sir. This is the first I've heard of it." He looked troubled. "Agent Mulder came in here this morning, requesting the leave. He claimed he needed it, and given the cases you two tackle, and the fact that both of you hardly ever take vacation time, I granted it. Agent Scully, did anything happen in Misty Point that I should be aware of? Anyone roughing Mulder up, threatening him...? I mean, I know who you were there to watch ended up in another city, but trouble seems to follow you both." Finding my voice, I replied with a solemn, "No sir. It, uh, must have been something personal. It's been a hard year." Somehow, it didn't look like the next one would be so hot, either. All I wanted to do was call him. "Um, would you mind if I placed a call, sir? It will just take a moment." He nodded, and I took out my cellular. Pushing the speed dial, I waited for Mulder to answer his cell phone. In place of his voice, a recording came on. "We're sorry, the number you have reached is not in service. Please hang up and try your call again." It had been disconnected. Bloody wonderful. I turned my attention back to Skinner. "So where does this leave me?" "That's what we need to discuss. You are the only one left in the X-Files division. I know I could repartner you, but I have a feeling that's not what would be best, considering this is temporary." "Thank you, sir." "I guess that leaves us with one more option - transferring you and shutting down the X-Files for a year. Is that satisfactory?" This wasn't phrased as a rhetorical question. Skinner did seem concerned. "Yes sir," I nodded, "it's fine. But before you transfer me... may I take a week's leave?" He granted it, and that was the end of our meeting. I was a bundle of emotions that morning, unsure of what to do. I headed back down to our office - our former office - and began to clean out what I'd need from my desk. I took one last look around. Goodbye, for one year. How would I get through it? I knew I needed to talk to Mulder; to find out why he'd done this. I went to his apartment, and knocked for about ten minutes. When he didn't answer the door, I used my key to let myself inside. Something was wrong, here. I could see things were missing. I walked through his apartment, calling his name. He wasn't there. I nearly had a heart attack when I heard a voice behind me. "Excuse me, miss." I swivelled around, reaching for my gun. The woman who'd addressed me, continued. "Are you looking for Mr. Mulder?" I nodded. "Who are you?" "His landlord. He'd mentioned people would be stopping by. He said to try and inform you that he will be gone for awhile. He's paid his rent for the next year, so it's none of my business where he is, but I've been asked to tell you." Damn coward. Leaves town, has Skinner and his landlord tell me... "Thank you." I left his apartment. I'd left his life. I'm not quite sure how, but I ended up at my mother's house. As I rang the bell, I was numb. Mom opened the door, and I could only stare at her, hopelessly. She pulled me inside, worried. "Dana honey, what's the matter?" As realization finally came crashing, I burst into tears. "He left, Mom. He left me." She held me there, tightly, as I sobbed. I didn't say anything more, simply because I couldn't. When my tears subsided into shaky hiccups, she led me into the kitchen. "Have some lunch, sweetie." I shook my head, not feeling hungry. Sighing, she sat down beside me at the table. "Do you want to talk about it?" My voice was wobbly. "We... we were on a case. In Misty Point. Some things happened. Oh God, Mom, he left!" "What happened, Dana?" she pressed gently. "We were... in the ocean. He kissed me, and I kissed him... and we went out to dinner and we danced and we went back to the hotel, and he said he loved me... he'd never told anyone that before. He told me to call him Fox. We were like a couple, and he dropped me off at home last night and kissed me goodnight... I got to work this morning, and I couldn't wait to see him. Our lives were finally getting on track, but he wasn't there. And then Skinner called me into his office--" I stopped, as the tears started again. "Shh... honey, it's okay..." I swallowed. "No. No, it's not okay. Skinner told me that he's taken a year's leave of absence. I tried to call him, but his cell phone had been disconnected. I went over to his apartment, and he wasn't there. His landlord said he wouldn't be there for awhile, but he'd paid his rent for a year in advance. He's gone, Mom. He decided that he doesn't want to see me... so he left." She hugged me, smoothing out my hair in an attempt to console me. "I'm sure that's not it. He'll call you later on today, and explain where he is." My shoulders sagged, defeatedly. "No he won't. I _know_ him, Mom. Why couldn't he have just told me that it wasn't what he wanted? Why did he act like it was? Why did he lie, Mom? How could he be such a bastard?" She was silent for a long time, then regarded me, seriously. "Dana, I know this is rough, and I know it's not what you want to hear right now, but listen to me. Don't hate Fox for what he's done." "Don't hate him? I thought I loved him! I thought he loved me! I thought we'd have a future together, and he made me so happy... Mom, it was like nothing I've ever felt before. And now he's gone. He leaves me here, to pick up the pieces and carry on like nothing ever happened, and I'm not supposed to hate him? I don't know if I'll ever see him again, and I'm supposed to like it?" "He will come back. Have faith." I shook my head. "I lost all faith the minute I left his apartment." I stayed at the house that night, at my mother's insistence. I know she was worried about me. She'd never really seen me like this... or maybe she had. A year ago, when I'd thought Mulder was dead, I'd walked here and been in shock. Did she know, even then, that I loved him? I still loved him, even though I wanted to hate him. I lay awake that night with my cellular phone beside me, hoping it would ring. Buried in a mountain of blankets, I'd wondered why he'd left. Why couldn't he have just told me the truth? What had I done to make him go like this? Why wasn't he calling? It was a merciful relief when sleep finally came. The months passed slowly. I did countless autopsies, putting my medical skills to actual use. I had trouble sleeping, and was often plagued by nightmares. I began talking to myself. At first, I missed Mulder so much it hurt. It wasn't just the romantic aspect of it all, but the fact that we had been best friends. We'd understood each other, and had this banter that never seemed to die. I missed talking to him... even missed his wild theories. I wanted to hear about a UFO sighting. I yearned for something not-so-normal as my life became. Christmas came and went. I spent it with my mom and brothers, and their families. Seeing the couples together, married, made me feel a pang of loss. If he hadn't have left, would Mulder be there with me? Would he finally get to meet my brothers, and see my niece and nephew? I know I wasn't myself at our holiday gathering. After enough warning glances from Mom, my brothers didn't dare ask why. I was grateful for that. I rang in the new year, alone. Agent Pendrell asked me out, and I declined. It was a nice gesture, but I wasn't ready for it. Relationships just weren't my thing. Around the seventh month is when I stopped caring. Well, made myself believe that, anyhow. I stopped crying at night, and started having bitter thoughts. All I could think was damn him, that man. He'd made me lose over a half year of my life. It wasn't going to be like that, anymore. He could get himself abducted by aliens, for all I cared. I was going to regain control. And so I did, until that day I was once more called into Skinner's office, and saw him sitting there. Until I saw our assignment folder, and everything started coming back to me. It wasn't fair, really. I'd been getting on with my life, or so I'd hoped. One look, one touch from him, and back I was, the quivering mess. We had to return to Misty Point, this time to investigate UFO "sightings" which might have had a connection to the disappearance of a child in the area. What kind of quack case was this, anyway? I dropped the folder back on Mulder's desk. "This says we leave tonight." "Uh, yeah. Why don't we go home and pack? I'll pick you up at 7, so we can get to the airport and fly out at 8?" "I know what time our plane leaves, Mulder, I can read," I muttered under my breath. A little more loudly, I said, "Oh, so you're assuming I haven't moved in the last year?" He wasn't sure what to say to that. He fumbled to put together a sentence. "You... no... ah, well, did you?" I headed to the door. "The answer is, no, I didn't. The point is, don't assume that things are the same." I left him with that to contemplate. True to his word, he arrived at 7. He knocked on the door and I flung it open, suitcase and carry-on in hand. He reached to take my suitcase, as I closed the door. Waving away his gesture, I informed him, "I can manage it fine, thank you." Our flight to Misty Point left something to be desired. Our seats were next to each other, and that was a little too close for comfort. He attempted small talk, but it felt so incredibly fake. This wasn't what it used to be. We used to be closer than anyone, even before our romantic revelation. We could toss back theories, or debate about upcoming football or basketball games. He'd ask about my mother, or comment on something interesting he'd seen on television. It was like we were meeting for the first time, with enough walls between us to create a fortress. There wasn't anything I had to say to him, and he really didn't know what to say to me. I found myself pretending to watch the in-flight movie, but nearly fell asleep while doing so. I felt my cheek just beginning to graze Mulder's shoulder, when I bolted upright in my seat. If contact between the two of us was involved, sleep was out. We landed at LAX, and found our luggage in the zoo that was the baggage claim. We got on a Supershuttle, and it was then I realized we'd be staying at the same hotel. The only difference was, it wouldn't be the honeymoon suite. The rooms were adjoining, however, I soon discovered. Keep the door open, or leave it closed? We'd always kept it open, even in our earliest cases. Walking back and forth between rooms, we could discuss our investigation, and brainstorm ideas. I supposed I was already acting enough like an Ice Queen to give him the hint that I was shutting him out, so the closed door wouldn't be necessary. After dropping my suitcases, I sat on the bed and took out our assignment folder. "This seems pretty straightforward, Mulder," I called into the other room. "Three people from this area claiming to have seen unidentified flying objects, and a child who has gone missing. I don't understand why we're investigating it." He came into the room, and sat down next to me on the bed. "Maybe there's more to it." "Okay, but what?" "Well," he paused, "I guess we'll have to meet with these people, question them about what they've seen, and find out." He was too close to me. I stood up, and paced a bit. Remaining on the bed, he remarked, "We weren't given a meal on the plane, and I know I'm starving. How about we get something to eat, then walk around the town a bit? See if anything's changed." Not looking at him, I said softly, "Everything changes." We did eat that night, and we did walk around, but it was incredibly different from the last time. I wasn't comfortable around him, anymore, and I knew he was walking on eggshells, trying not to say the wrong thing. He'd realized I could turn a lot of statements around on him, and was avoiding saying anything too in-depth. I think it was a relief for both of us when we finally got back to the hotel, and went to sleep. It seemed my nightmares had not departed with his return. It was there, my faceless demon. It came for me, reached for me, tormented me with everything I'd ever done wrong. Laughing, it showed me an image of my sister, Melissa, lying in a pool of blood at my apartment. I hadn't seen her when it happened, or even between then and when she died, but it haunted me. And then, it flashed back to Donnie Pfaster, being trapped in his house, and almost being killed. Forwards again, to Modell. I was in a hospital room, with him and Mulder. Mulder had a gun. We were playing a game of Russian Roulette, and this time the gun was pointed at me. I pleaded with Mulder that he was stronger than this, that he didn't have to do this. I saw his fingers pull back on the trigger. This time, the bullet was going to come, and it was going to hit me. I'd die, and there was nothing I could do about it. He screamed at me to run, but I found I couldn't. As I watched the bullet come toward me, in slow motion, I tried to run but was held down. The bullet was going to hit me. He was screaming at me. "Dana!" I opened my eyes, in a cold sweat. I couldn't move my arms. I opened my mouth, wanting to scream, but then saw him there. Mulder was holding down my arms, which I supposed had been thrashing about. "Dana," he murmured. "Just a bad dream." As my heart rate started to slow back to a normal rate, he took me in his arms and rocked me a little, back and forth. "It's okay." For the first time since he'd returned, something felt right. How could being in his arms feel right? If anything, it should feel wrong. Yet, I found myself relaxing in them, letting him stroke my hair and assure me that it was over now. Finally, he pulled back a little, to look at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded. Our eyes locked. His face was getting nearer to mine. I felt the light touch of his lips, before I came to my senses and comprehended what was happening. Shifting away from him, I glared in the darkness. "What are you doing?" He turned his head away from me. "I'm sorry. I guess I just kind of lost myself there. Goodnight, Scully." He stood up and went back to his own room. Settling under the blankets, I reviewed what had just happened, becoming startled when discovering I'd almost given into the kiss, willingly. What did that mean? *What do you want it to mean?* the voice inside of me taunted. "Nothing," I whispered into the darkened room. "I don't want it to mean a thing." Still, as I closed my eyes, I wasn't quite so sure. There really wasn't much to do the next day. Our file indicated that the people we were to question wouldn't be at home until that evening. We were to meet with the parents of the missing child late that afternoon. The information we had said they lived at 1013 Stardust Crescent. Imagine our surprise as we searched the roadmap, that there wasn't a Stardust Crescent anywhere in Misty Point or surrounding area. The greater perplexity came when we contacted several places and found that the people we were to be meeting with didn't exist. "Must be a mistake in the folder," Mulder noted. "We can still meet with those other people later on tonight. I checked it out on the map, and those streets do exist." We ate dinner, then headed back out to question the sighters. Why were we even bothering? We didn't have a case to begin with, just a bunch of people convinced they'd seen lights that weren't stars in the sky. I kept my thoughts to myself, however, because doing something - anything - was better than being alone with Mulder in that hotel. We pulled up in front of the first person's house. Walking up to the door and knocking, a woman in her forties answered. Mulder greeted her. "Hi, we're agents Mulder and Scully with the FBI. Are you Mrs. Reed?" The woman shook her head, confused. "No one by that name lives here," she informed us. "None of the neighbors have the last name of Reed, either. I'm afraid you have the wrong area." She closed the door, and I felt the beginnings of a headache coming on. "0 for 2," I muttered. It soon became 0 for 3, and 0 for 4. There was something weird going on. We'd wasted a whole day here in Misty Point, on a case that was turning out to be completely inaccurate. Even Mulder looked ready to pack it in, after being informed time after time that the people whom we were looking for had never resided in Misty Point. "So what do you think?" He glanced over at me as I massaged my temples. "Should we hit the highway?" Back to the motel, after a pointless day spent looking like idiots. "Sure. Fine. Whatever." I saw the scowl cross his face at my old and somewhat annoying saying. We rode on in a terse silence, as the darkness loomed around us. Five years I had known this man, but still we were strangers in the night. I guess the unspoken words got to him, for he soon turned on the radio. He fiddled with the knob, until we were tuned into KOST. Looking at the clock, I said a soundless thanks that we'd missed "Love songs on the KOST". Not only was that segment sappy as hell, but more ridiculous than anything I'd ever heard. I wasn't in the mood for it. I sat back in the seat, folding my arms tightly across my chest, while listening to the melody that made its way out of the speakers. You'll say, we've got nothing in common No common ground to start from And we're falling apart. You'll say, the world has come between us Our lives have come between us Still I know you just don't care. And I said, "What about 'Breakfast at Tiffany's'?" She said, "I think I remember the film And as I recall, I think we both kind of liked it." And I said, "Well, that's the one thing we've got..." I watched as Mulder glanced at me, opening his mouth, hesitating, then closing it again. Finally, he decided on saying, "We'll be back at the hotel for the rest of the night. Want to rent 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', and make a night of it? As I recall, I think we both kind of liked it..." I said nothing, just glared straight ahead. What the hell kind of nerve was that, anyway? My mind argued with itself. *Maybe he just wants to watch a movie. Yeah, right. He wants to pick up where you left off; pretend nothing ever happened. Would that be so bad? You know how badly you miss doing those little things with him... miss the feel of his arms--Stop it! You don't need him, you're better off without him. Denying yourself of all human emotion is better off? Puh-lease...* Great, voices in my head. I hadn't realized we had stopped, until his voice broke into the heated debate happening in my mind. He was quiet, and asked the question tentatively, but I probably would have heard him a mile away. "What's happened over the last year, Dana? How have you been doing?" For a moment, I could only stare and gape at him in shock. How dare he ask that question! Damn him. "Shut up, Mulder. Just shut the hell up." I opened the door and stepped out of the car, into the parking lot of the hotel. "Dana..." he started. "What is it, _Fox_?" I muttered sarcastically. A pained expression clouded his eyes. "Scully..." he attempted once more. When I said nothing, he continued. "I owe you an explanation for why I left." "You mean, a reason why you kissed me one day, claiming to have all these feelings and making me think what we had was special, then disappearing without a trace the next? Leaving it up to Skinner to tell me you were gone? Being too chickenshit to tell me yourself that you'd changed your mind, and didn't want me anymore?" I hurled those questions at him, watching him wince. "Do I have to go on? Does that about sum it up?" He closed his eyes, wearily. "I've always wanted you. I wanted you every day I was gone." "Nice way of showing it," I mumbled. "Look, Dana--" I stopped him. "You know, you only use my name when you want something. You think that by using it, it will make everything better somehow. Well, you can cut that crap right now, because I assure you, this is one instance where it isn't going to work." "Fine. _Scully_... I know I'm an asshole. I know I should have called you. I know I shouldn't have left at all. I know I should have stayed here, where everything was going right." I looked at him, coldly. "Then why didn't you?" It had started to rain, but neither of us cared. It was just him and me, and this thing. There was so much tension here between us. It was amazing what a year could do to people. I had become sarcastic and bitter. Did he realize he'd done that to me? That long nights of unanswered questions had taken their toll? And here I was, about to get the answers, and all I wanted to do was walk away. I wanted him to feel the pain I had, watching me go, but unable to do anything about it. I wanted him to feel the worry and the heartbreak of not knowing if he'd ever see me again. I wanted him to understand. He looked at me then, directly in the eyes. "They knew." "Who knew?" I asked, before the obvious struck me. "_They_ knew. I returned home that night, feeling like I was probably the luckiest guy living. Mr. X was waiting for me. He warned me that they knew we were together, and to be careful. There would be trouble. God, Scully, all I could think of was the last time, when they took you. They knew what that would do to me, when we hadn't even realized it ourselves. I wanted to die then, you know. I wanted to die that night, too. I was sure they were going to get to me through you, again. I didn't want you to get hurt. I needed to get away to figure things out, and think about what I was going to do." "So you decided to come back," I filled in. "I needed to see you, Dana. I needed to hear your voice, and I needed to touch you. I needed to be with you again, and I needed to tell you that I love you." He bent his head down to kiss me, and for the moment, I wanted to let him. It had been twelve months of needing this, but it had also been twelve months of pain. I had already been hurt badly. I couldn't let it happen again. Pulling away from him, I said achingly, "No..." He brought his hand up under my chin, and gently tilted my face up to look at him. "No?" he echoed, confused. I stepped away from him, taking a deep breath. "No." I shook my head. "How do I know you mean that, Mulder? How do I know I'm not going to fall asleep one night with you there, then wake up the next morning to find you're gone? Do you have any idea what that did to me?" I screamed, almost in hysterics. "I have never trusted someone so much in my life as much as I trusted you. I told you so much... I wanted to go to the Bureau the next morning, after we came back, and I wanted to kiss you good morning. I couldn't wait to get there and see you. You weren't there, and Skinner told me. Not even a goddamn phone call, Mulder! Not one lousy conversation to tell me you weren't scattered on a highway side somewhere, dead. I mourned for you, even though you didn't die. When you left, I lost part of myself. How do I know this isn't a game with you? How can I trust that you mean what you say?" "Because I love you. Dana, you're the only one I have ever said that to..." "I fell for that once before, then you left town," I shot back at him. "I was scared," he whispered. "I am scared." "I'm scared too. I'm terrified of getting hurt again. I don't want to stay here, anymore. This case keeps looking more and more like a hoax, and I can't take being here. I keep thinking of everything I thought we had, and how stupid I was. You can stay here and wallow as long as you like, but I'm returning to Washington, as soon as I can." I pulled out my cellular phone, and in front of him, made arrangements for a flight out in the morning. I walked away from him, from the past. Somehow, I had to move on. Maybe it was meant as a threat, or maybe it was meant as a challenge. His tone was so weak, sad, and tired, though, all it did was haunt me. "This isn't over, Scully," he called after me. "Not by a long shot." Continued in part 4... From rfarwell@foxnet.net Mon Dec 09 19:20:12 1996 See disclaimers in part one. REKINDLING THE FLAME (4/4) "Sparking The Fire" by Jennifer Farwell rfarwell@foxnet.net I didn't look back at him once as I stormed into the hotel. My feelings were incredibly confused. On the one hand, I was furious with him. On the other, I was furious with myself. I'd thought the last year had been the worst possible period of time to live through, but I'd been wrong. It was the past 24 hours which had been the most agonizing of all. I wanted to be with him. I didn't want to be with him. I didn't know one way or the other. Finally reaching my room, I opened the door and slammed it shut, and collapsed on the couch in frustration. This was absurd. I was an adult, not a lovesick character in some book. I was a doctor, and a special agent with the FBI. I had seen and done more in my life than I'd ever wish upon anyone, and it was the matter of the man in the room adjacent to mine that was having me lose it completely. After about 30 seconds of down time for me, I became incredibly restless. Nothing like a good argument to fire you up. Sighing - and why I was sighing, I don't have a clue... it was just something I did these days - I picked up the TV guide, and scanned the movie listings. Some horror film which wouldn't scare a 3-year-old, a comedy where the funniest thing was the attempt at acting, and Speed. Terrific. Didn't this place ever show new movies? I didn't need the memories of my head in Mulder's lap, being fed popcorn, tonight. I threw the TV guide across the room, smiling as it hit the wall. I could hear Mulder's muffled voice in the next room, and briefly wondered who he was talking to. *Why do you care what he does, Dana? Stop caring, stop wondering, and stop thinking about him.* It was hard to stop thinking about him, no matter what I tried to tell myself. I could hear him in the next room, as restless as me. He wouldn't dare knock on the door between our rooms which was now closed, I knew. The scene in the parking lot had been enough of a warning. I had done the right thing, letting him know it was over, hadn't I? I mean, he couldn't have it both ways. How he could think that he could leave for a year and come back to find things the same, was beyond me. Selfish, that's what he was. Selfish, arrogant, son-of-a-- *No,* an inner voice contradicted. *You _know_ he's not. After everything you've been through in your partnership, how can you possibly believe that?* My conscience had spoken, and it seemed to be on Mulder's side. Everyone was on Mulder's side of this, even my mother. Why was it that when I hadn't been the one to disappear, I was the one who came out looking like the bad guy? It wasn't fair. Nothing in this whole year had been fair. In fact, nothing had been fair for a long time. My father had died, and my sister had died. I'd lost three months of my life. Why me? What was there to balance out the scales? I was supposed to be in the best part of my life - a true yuppie - so why was I so miserable? I sat and wondered for a long time, but came up with no answers. I supposed I never would. Would things get any better? I was returning to Washington in the morning, but how would that make anything different? I'd still be in the X-Files, and he'd still be there in that office, day after day. Would there be another confrontation? I hoped not - the one in the parking lot had been draining enough. As I yawned, I realized I should go to sleep. I'd have to be up early the next morning. I dozed fitfully throughout the night, waking every hour. From the next room, I could hear the sounds of Mulder tossing and turning. He was still awake when I finally gave up on the notion of sleep, and got up. Walking over to the window, I looked out and found that it was almost time for the sun to rise. It seemed so tranquil outside; almost mystical. Quickly, I got dressed and headed down to the beach. The beauty of the sunshine glimmering on the ocean was breathtaking. I sat there, on the soft sand of the beach, looking out across the blue expanse. When I looked at something as beauiful as that, it was easy to imagine that life was perfect. Closing my eyes, I inhaled the salty air, and listened as the waves lapped against the shore. It was then that I heard the strains of something else, and it sounded like it was coming from the hotel's intercom system. And when old wounds have healed And when your past won't haunt When you take down your wall When you're not nonchalant And when you can listen And when you can say When you can break down and cry And give your heart away When the silence speaks And when the words are more When you hear what's really meant When you open the door I'm here... How long can you keep hiding? This game is so absurd Cos all I really want from you Are those three little words... I want you to let me hold you And I want to be held I know our love is true Our hearts and minds will meld I know your hurt runs deep I want to ease the pain I want to hold you when you sleep And kiss you in the rain... A lone tear for what might have been, trailed down my face. That was the song Mulder and I had danced to, that night last year. He'd said that he loved me that night. I felt a finger gently brush away the tear on my cheek. His quiet, almost tearful voice whispered, "I do love you, Dana. No matter what you believe, it's true. It will always be the truth." I opened my eyes, and found myself staring at Mulder. He looked a mess; the first time I'd seen him physically looking not all-together since he'd come back. He really was hurting, too. He wasn't pretending. I could see it in the dark circles under his eyes, in the stubble on his face which he had not shaved, and in the way his hair seemed to be just-out-of-place. Something about it struck me as completely sweet and honest. There was a sincerety there, and a need for me to understand that yes, he too had been to hell and back. I picked up a handful of sand, letting it slip through my fingers, and watched as it scattered back into dust. "I love you, too." I raised my head back up to meet his eyes, and saw a tear roll unbidden down his cheek. "Then what is our problem? We can make this work." He took my hand in his. I wanted it to work. Right now, I wanted it so badly, but there was still one obstacle. "What about our jobs, Mulder? They'll separate us, again." He shook his head. "Not if Skinner has anything to say about it, they won't." I looked at him, confused. "How do you know?" An amused smile crossed his lips. "I called him last night, to let him know that this case was going nowhere. He already knew." He took a deep breath, "Scully, we've been set up." "What do you mean?" He was almost laughing, now. "Skinner somehow sensed what was going on. There never was a case, you know, and I have a feeling he may be counting this as holiday time. He set us up to come back here, and told me that I'd be an asshole to let you leave today." "And I'd be an idiot for going," I said tenderly. He stood up, pulling me with him. "Come here," he told me. He hugged me close, kissing the top of my head. I looked up at him. Slowly, our lips met. And this time, I didn't pull away. We stood there with our arms wrapped around each other, kissing as the tears of a year mixed together, as the sun rose overhead, brightening the sky. Blessing us. The End November 14, 1996. Editing completed November 24, 1996.