From: Kerowyn <ladyker@mindspring.com>
Date: Thu, 09 Mar 2000 04:32:59 -0700
Subject: (no subject)
Source: direct

Title:  Right in the Kisser (1/1)
Author:  Kerowyn
Email address: ladyker@hotmail.com
Rating:  PG for mild language
Category:  S
Spoilers:  Cops
Keywords:  post-episode story, MSR, UST
Summary:  Scully's fed up with Mulder's insensitivity.  Can she 
get through his thick skull without resorting to violence?

Notes:  This is my first X-Files fanfic and my first story for 
years and years.  Please send feedback if you like what you read 
but please be nice, I'm very sensitive.  Extra special chocolate 
Kryceks to Isahunter for inspiring me to write again!  This is a 
one-part story, but could turn into a more interesting romance if 
I get good feedback!  Keep that in mind, k?

p.s.  This story came from my frustration with CC for a lot 
of things, mostly the way Mulder's been treating Scully, and 
it seems like forever since we had a smidgen of character 
development.  Like my hero, Joss Whedon (ever heard of Buffy?) 
says, "If nobody learns anything, what's the point?" or 
something to that effect.


XxXxXxXxXxX


Mulder was worried.  He was no stranger to worry, but that didn't 
mean he liked the sensation, especially when he worried about 
Scully.  After the fiasco in L.A. ended, all he wanted to do was 
go home and sleep for at least three hours.  All in a row? he 
thought to himself.  At first he assumed his partner only felt 
exhausted and uncommunicative.  That was nothing new.  But she 
seemed just the tiniest bit, hmmm, cold?  When they boarded the 
plane she simply curled up in the flimsy airline blanket and fell 
asleep against the window.  Mulder knew she liked the window seat 
for that reason.  He shrugged internally and tried not to think 
about it.

The trouble is, once Mulder had a puzzle, he worked at it like a 
puppy with a chew toy.  When he walked in the office Monday 
morning, he felt sure he had an answer.  Made him feel more 
confident that way, and with Scully, he had to stay on comfortable 
ground.  She had a way of kicking the feet out from under his 
theories and over time, Mulder learned to be prepared.  Number 
one:  she hated chasing werewolves, or other assorted unscientific 
monsters.  Number two:  she hated the cameramen for several 
reasons, not least because the camera caught every moment of her 
werewolf-chasing.  Personally Mulder thought she needed to lighten 
up a little about that, he thought she accorded herself with 
dignity.  He'd have to tell her that when she got the chance.  The 
dignity part, he reminded himself, not the lighten-up part.  He'd 
sooner advise her to break out the Midol then tell her to lighten 
up.  Not that he didn't think so sometimes, but he knew better 
than to say anything stupid.

Just have to know how to handle Scully, he told himself.  He 
figured after all this time he would be fine.  He swung into the 
office with a smile, sat down at the computer, and began writing 
the report of the werewolf-turned-Freddy Krueger-turned-virus.  He 
knew how to handle these reports too.  Leave out a bit here, 
embellish a bit more there.

He looked up when he heard Scully come in a few minutes later.  
"I've already started on our report, Scully," he told her with the 
merest pinch of glee.  "Shouldn't be too hard to clean it up for 
the boss."  He wasn't too surprised or disappointed when she sat 
down without a word.  Like a train with a cattle catcher, he 
plowed ahead confidently.  "I'm sorry we didn't find the 
'suspect'," he said, sketching quote marks in the air with his 
fingers.  "I hope you had a chance to rest up over the weekend," 
he added.  He felt truly concerned about her, and thought showing 
it wouldn't hurt.  She merely shrugged.

Okay, what did I do wrong?  Mulder went through the list in his 
head.  Report: check.  Apology: check.  Concern: check.  He 
mentally kicked himself:  forgot to mention the dignity thing.  
That's right.  "Ah, Scully," he began, and waited for her to look 
up from whatever she was doing at her desk.  She met his eyes with 
a steely glare that made his stomach knot.  Scratch the dignity 
thing, he told himself, need a bit more concern here.  "Are you 
alright?"

"Sure, Mulder," she replied, her voice as cold and flat as an 
iced-over pond in winter.  Mulder couldn't help it, but he could 
almost deny what he was feeling:  fear.  Not for her, but for 
himself.  Angry Scully not good, he thought.  "I mean it," he 
pushed, "What's wrong?"  Scully continued to look him straight in 
the eye.  She let out a long breath and asked, "Do you really want 
to know?"  

Scully felt generous, she gave him a chance to back out.  She 
doubted he would, Mulder could be that dense sometimes.  "Of 
course I want to know," he responded with a quiet concern that 
made her stomach turn.  Her lip began to curl of its own accord so 
she bit down on it instead.  You asked for it, she reminded 
herself before beginning.

"Where do I start?  Have you even noticed, Mulder?"  She shook her 
head.  "Of course you haven't, or you wouldn't even be asking me," 
she snapped at him.  "I try to be patient, I know how you are," 
she continued.  Mulder, ever the confident, interrupted, saying, 
"Look, I know how you feel about these cases," but she cut him 
off.  "No," she said, and it came out sharper than she intended, 
but not by much.  "It's not the case.  It's not the lycanthrope 
thing, AGAIN, it's not even the damned camera crew."  She took a 
deep breath and tried to calm down.  Please, please don't cry, she 
reprimanded herself.  If I cry he will never take me seriously, 
she thought, and a very small part of her continued, and I 
don't want to be like that, some weepy conniving woman.  That's 
not what this is about.

As exhausted as she was, she didn't rest well at all over the 
weekend.  She didn't want to think about the long, hot shower she 
took when she got home and the tears that never seemed to stop 
pouring out of her like a snowmelt.  The thought that he could 
treat her the way he did, that he thought of her that way, it was 
unbearable.  Only a few times in the past had he reduced her to 
this.  A long time ago they had tacitly agreed, Don't go there.  
They certainly had enough reasons:  first, their jobs at the FBI, 
his quest for the truth, and who knows what other kind of hang-ups 
he had.  Scully's had her own reasons as well-her strong sense of 
professionalism one of the most important.  They never seemed to 
have the time, they had many more important things that came 
first.  Deep down, in a place she seldom cared to look, lay her 
fear of involvement.  She knew Mulder too well.  He didn't do 
anything by halves.  If they had a relationship outside the 
office, by definition it would be all or nothing.

They each had their ways of dealing with their decision.  Most of 
the time it didn't get in the way, they both had other things to 
concern themselves with.  A few times she thought Mulder had 
pushed the line, most notably a certain "I love you" he gave her 
while laid up at the hospital for the umpteenth time.  She should 
resent it more, she knew, but couldn't bring herself to be angry.  
Besides, she avoided that particular pitfall easily.  The easiest 
way to deal with it was to ignore it, and most of the time she 
could do just that.  But sometimes the unspoken would jump out of 
the shadows like a mugger and leave her defenseless.  She hated 
it, but accepted it as truth.  This time she hated herself for the 
feelings he brought out in her.  Scully hated losing control, and 
that's what happened.  Big time.  She didn't want to think about 
it then and she didn't want to think about it now.  But he asked, 
and he owed her that much-he had to listen.

Steeling herself, she continued.  "That's not what this is about.  
This is about you, and the way you treat me."  There, she said it.  
"Maybe, just maybe, you didn't notice what you were doing at 
first.  But it's been a long time now, and you just get worse."  
Her anger took over, made her bold, made her brave, and best of 
all, made her not cry.  The dejected look he gave her made the 
crying part even harder, but she promised herself she'd be 
honest.  "No more, Mulder," she told him as if giving him an 
ultimatum.  "I'm tired of being your lackey, I'm tired of doing 
your dirty work, and I'm tired of you caring more about the damn 
cases than my feelings!"  Trying not to look him in the eye, she 
began to pace in the tiny confines of their office.  Her fists 
clenched and unclenched, and without wanting to, Mulder wondered 
if she might hit him.  She'd done it before, well, not her 
exactly, but he wouldn't put it past this Scully either.

She spun on her heel and looked him in the eye once more.  "Stop 
it Mulder!" she said harshly.  She could practically see the tears 
brimming in his eyes.  "Don't you get all guilt-ridden and 
humiliated on me, stand up to me!  For God's sake, take 
responsibility for once!"  He hated to admit it but she had him 
pinned there, he did feel like a pretty sorry excuse for a man.  
He never thought of it as a cop-out, but suddenly he could see it:  
the bottomless self-hatred kept him from dealing with the truth.  
The truth that was so important to him.  Especially the truth 
about Scully, and that could be the most frightening of all.

Her voice changed, and the pain he heard in it went through him 
like a knife.  "Whatever happened to 'I can't do this without you 
Scully?' ", she said softly.  "Now all I get is, 'Fill it up 
before you bring it back,' " she continued just as quietly.   
What's it gonna be, Mulder?"  This time it did feel like an 
ultimatum.  Mulder knew he had to tread carefully, what he said or 
didn't say now could change things drastically.  She sensed his 
hesitation and continued, "Do you want a partner, an equal, will 
you respect my opinion and my profession?  Or do you want me to 
sit tight and shut up, and do your bidding without question?  
Because you know I'm not that person, I can't be that person."

Mulder stood up and walked toward Scully.  At first she flinched 
and almost backed up, frightened of what he was planning.  He 
simply took her by the shoulders and looked her in the eye.  Then 
he began to speak.  She had trouble following his words, the sound 
of his voice and the feel of his hands caught all her attention.  
She knew just from the timbre of his voice she had finally gotten 
through to him.  Part of her wanted to shout victory and the other 
wanted to collapse from relief and exhaustion.  She caught him 
saying, "...never meant to do that, honestly.  I could make all 
sorts of lame excuses but I think we both know I have no excuse 
good enough, no reason justifiable enough to treat you that 
way.  I do respect you, Scully, as a partner and an equal.  You 
were right," he paused and laughed a small self-deprecating laugh.  
"You have every right to complain.  I am a fool and an ass," he 
continued then paused.  Scully reached up and lightly put her 
shaking hands around his arms.  He looked her deeply in the eyes, 
and said, "I do need you Scully.  You are the one unshakable force 
in my life, and I take you for granted all too often."

She could feel him shaking as if it spread from the contact with 
her hands.  Unshakable, hah. "I should hit you good and hard, 
Mulder, right in the kisser," she said, and mimed a left hook with 
her fist.  "How else will I get it to stick in your head?"  Mulder 
laughed under his breath.  "Does that mean you forgive me, for 
this time at least?" he asked gently.  Scully let go of his arms 
and sighed.  "I guess so," she said, mock-painfully.  "This time, 
anyway."  Mulder let go of her shoulders and pulled her into a 
hug.  

She fit so perfectly against him, her head under his chin.  He 
never wanted to let go.  He tried so hard not to think about times 
like this, when she was close and tempting, so tempting.  Why did 
it have to jump up and bite him now?  Only myself to blame, he 
reminded himself.  He forced himself to let go.  Scully stepped 
away and gave him a sideways smile.  He never could tell what 
thoughts cascaded through her lovely head when she smiled at him 
like that.  He found it difficult to concentrate anyway.  

Right in the kisser, he thought as they returned to work.  Might 
even be worth it, he thought before he went back to his report.

The End...or is it?  :)