From: Date: Friday, May 26, 2000 10:40 PM Subject: NEW fanfic: requiem Title: Ruminations Author: Kayleigh Rating: R, definitely not NC-17, but allusions to a relationship Category: MSR Distribution: wherever Feedback: if you'd like...this is my first story though so please be gentle Spoilers: Everything up through Requiem Summary: Mulder contemplates his relationship with Scully Author notes: I wrote this on a whim after thinking about the season finale. I was trying to profile Mulder! Disclaimer: Standard. I don't own Fox, 1013, or any of the characters therein. This story is a work of fiction and I mean no infringement upon the rights of those who actually own these characters. I am sitting on the bed, sifting through photos and pondering the ramifications of this case. It feels so odd to be back here in Oregon, back to where it all started. I distinguish my life into segments: before Samantha was taken and after Samantha was taken, before I was partnered with Scully and after. Each event, the abduction of my sister and the partnership with Scully, has irrevocably changed me, in ways that I sometimes have trouble comprehending. The melancholy that pervaded my household after Samantha's disappearance carried over into the rest of my life and stayed with me into adulthood. I felt at times that my pursuit of her, my quest, was as much to re-establish my own faith in humanity and restore a sense of happiness in my life than it was about finding her. In a sense, once I found Samantha, I would regain the carefree child that I had once been. As the years slipped by and my pursuit, dogged though it was, brought me no closer to the truth, my despair became even more pronounced. It was at this stage that Scully was introduced into my life. I was bitter, skeptical, and downright hostile at our first meeting. I wasn't stupid. I knew that I had only been allowed to continue my quest because of my connections in Congress...since leaving the VCU it could be argued that I had made no significant contributions to the Bureau, yet continued to use their resources to further my own explorations into the paranormal. I know that Scully had been sent to shut me down because I lacked the energy and political correct attitude to defend myself and my work. Even if I had possessed the ability, it is doubtful that anyone would have seen the validity of my work. However, I had aroused enough suspicion and generated enough interest that it would have been difficult to shut me down quietly and without a fight. Thus entered Scully as a pawn in their game. She was perfectly cordial, said she was excited to meet me and eager to work with me. I barely grunted in response and was less than civil. However, just a few days later, in Oregon, in this very same place, she changed my mind. Oh, she was certainly skeptical. She looked at me with that arched eyebrow as if she thought I was out of my mind, but she listened. I had great respect for that. She listened and she offered realistic scientific data to back up her defense. As she has told me numerous times since then, Scully is a scientist...she accepts nothing at face value. I found that her calm rationality reigned me in when I was conjecturing too far beyond the realm of reason and that it felt good to try and prove my theories to someone. Whenever she would concede that I had a point, I felt the thrill of victory. So our partnership, while begun on shaky terms, was solidifying quickly. At times, I felt sorry for her. She has a brilliant mind and had gone to medical school to put that mind to the best use possible: analyzing facts, finding the root cause of a problem, and solving it. Working with me, she certainly got to analyze facts, but the root cause was elusive and we almost never solved a case with no questions remaining. At some point along the way, I stopped thinking of our pursuit into the paranormal as my destiny, but rather a shared cause. I think she felt the same way. She had seen too much not to believe something. The past 7 years had changed her. Some may say they hardened her...certainly she experienced more than her fair share of tragedy and loss throughout that time: the loss of her sister and her father, facing her own terminal illness, Emily's death, and the loss of her fertility. However, I would say that they have defined her. No longer is she the wide eyed, soft spoken green agent that stepped into my office. Instead she is a confident, sophisticated woman who is relentless in her pursuit of what arguably might save the human race. She is determined to uncover the reasons behind her abduction and subsequent illness in order to prevent others from suffering the same fate. In determining this, we stand to uncover the greatest truths and not only solve the mystery of the origin of mankind, but determine our fate as well. This case evokes a sense of reminiscing...although it has only been 7 years, the people's lives have changed so much. The witnesses we interviewed before, frightened, insecure high school students are now full fledged adults with families and careers. They should have been able to move on and yet something is still holding them back. Something that has apparently come back to finish the work it started. As I am mulling this over, there is a knock on the door. I am reminded of the night 7 years ago when a terrified Scully knocked on the door of a very similar motel in this very town and rushed into my room, disrobing to show me mosquito bites that she feared may be marks of alien abduction. Her willingness to show me her vulnerability and the way she threw herself into my arms after I assured her it was OK softened my resentment of her. It was then I truly believed her when she said she was only there to solve the case. Whatever intentions they may have had for her, Scully is too honest and loyal to do anything other than what she believes to be right. Strangely, it is rare that Scully gives in to her vulnerability, rare that she lets me comfort her. Knowing her as I do now, it surprises me that she was so open back then. I look up from the photos, return from my reflections and call, "Who is it?" This is somewhat of a game. I know exactly who it is...who else could it possibly be? But there's something about her standard response that brings me comfort, makes me feel connected. "It's me," she answers. I answer the door and she looks no less frightened than she did 7 years ago. I am instantly concerned and question her. She replies that she feels dizzy and sick and can't get warm. Instinctively I go from partner mode into lover mode, a line we are still attempting desperately to define. I pull her on the bed and wrap the covers around her, half expecting her to turn away and refuse help. But she doesn't flinch, not even when I put my arms around her and pull her to me. Perhaps there is something about this place that allows her to be more open, more vulnerable. She doesn't say much, just settles into my arms and thanks me. I am not sure for what I am owed the thanks. Holding her like this is strange. After 7 years of a carefully constructed partnership and the closest friendship I have ever known, we crossed a monumental line. Although the FBI has long lists of rules and regulations surrounding conduct with your partner, that was never what kept me from crossing the line. Rather it was the shear fear of losing what we had together. I have loved Scully for years now; the fact that our relationship was platonic was Ok with me because it was steadfast and secure. I was never certain that we could cross the line from partnership into a romantic relationship and come back again, if need be, unscathed. I was always too scared to take the chance. And so our partnership evolved and we never really talked about our feelings. I was certain of the depth of my emotion for her and I knew she felt the same way. But it was something we didn't discuss, an innuendo we played with and would inevitably do something about, but not now. Not when so much was at stake. The tension became infinitely more noticeable when Diana came back into the picture. I know it bothered Scully immensely that mine and Diana's relationship had been an intimate one. In some ways, I think she felt threatened because she felt that Diana and I had established a bond that she and I did not share. What I couldn't tell her or make her understand because we were still at the phase where we just didn't talk about it, was that the bond I had with her, Scully, was far more intense and emotional and rewarding than anything I'd ever felt for anyone, that the fact we were not sexually active had no bearing on that fact. But I didn't say that. And Scully smoldered. The latest round of emotional intensity occurred when she inadvertently encountered her ex lover. Learning about this part of Scully's past was surprising to me on a number of fronts. I was surprised at her naivete, the intensity of her emotion for this man, and troubled by what my life would have been like had she chosen the path with him. We were having one of the most intense discussions of our relationship when she, out of shear exhaustion, drifted off to sleep. Knowing that she would kill me if I played the role of Knight in Shining Armor by carrying her off to bed while I slept on the couch, I settled for tucking a blanket around her and leaving her to sleep. Somehow strangely comforted by her presence in my apartment, I fell into an unusually sound sleep. I was therefore startled to wake, several hours later, to her standing at my bedside. Clearly troubled, she was looking down at me, an unreadable expression in her eyes. I asked her what was wrong and she swallowed hard, as if to say something. In the end she said nothing, but crawled into the bed and pressed herself tightly against me. I held her, of course, and continued to try to elicit responses from her. Ultimately she kissed me, wistfully yet full of repressed passion. One thing led to another and, without another word from either one of us, we consummated our relationship. While making love to Scully was the most beautiful and amazing experience of my entire life, in some ways it seemed so normal and natural it was hard to believe we hadn't done this before. It was a natural extension of what we'd become to one another. But it was probably done at the wrong time, a time when Scully was vulnerable and looking for comfort and I filled a void. I certainly never regretted it, but it only happened once and, once again, we never discussed it. When I woke up the next morning, she was already gone. I didn't feel betrayed or misled or even sad. I was glad for the experience, glad that she'd turned to me and filed it away for one of those things we'd address someday..... Now, with my arms wrapped around her on this bed, I am overcome with protectiveness. This is probably one of the reasons Scully was reluctant to ever begin a romantic relationship with me. She probably feared that, once we were lovers, I would fail to see her as an equal partner and instead treat her like a fragile bird. I would never have thought so, but now, with her trembling in my arms, I can't stop myself from telling her that there's more than all this, more she can accomplish in her life than this pursuit which continues to elude us and provide little insight. I tell her that she's suffered enough and it suddenly breaks my heart all over again that she can't have children. Watching her with that baby today, it is me that is looking at the life Scully didn't choose and wondering if she would have been better off. Better off with anything other than this perpetual witch hunt we seem to be on. Surprisingly she does not seem angry by my ministrations, nor does she refute my words. She merely tucks my hand under her cheek and sighs. I think she may be crying. It is this thought that sticks with me, that and her sudden embrace when I tell her that I can't lose her, as the alien craft carries me and the rest of the abductees off into the night. One would think that I would be consumed by the fact that I was finally getting proof undeniable of the existence of extraterrestrial life or that I would be frightened about the upcoming tests and unknown experiences. But I thought of none of those things. Instead, her words, "I won't let you go alone" were echoing through my mind. She meant Skinner, of course, and sent him to accompany me, but I wonder if she knows that I am never alone anymore, and haven't been for 7 years. I finger the cross she hung around my neck just before I left as she blinked back tears. "Promise you'll come back," she managed to choke out. And, of course, I promised. Though I have no idea where I am being taken or whether the aliens have any intention of returning me, I am not deterred. I will go back. I will find her. I have to.