From: sagan@twinparadox.org Date: Sun, 08 Jul 2001 18:54:45 -0000 Subject: xfc: NEW: Seduce and Destroy (R) 1/1 By: Sagan Source: xfc TITLE: Seduce and Destroy (1/1) AUTHOR: Sagan RATING: R CATEGORY: A, MSR, A, Babyfic, A. Did I mention A? SPOILERS: All of Season 8 is fair warning SUMMARY: Take the L out of Lover and it's over. FEEDBACK: sagan@twinparadox.org DISTRIBUTION: Ephemeral, ATXC; otherwise drop a note but ok! DISCLAIMER: These characters don't belong to me. They are the sole property of Chris Carter and his legions of flying monkeys. May they continue to do the backstroke in the fiery pits of Hell. NOTE: At the end SEDUCE AND DESTROY BY: Sagan She pushed her chair back from the desk. He stood in the middle of the living room, hands shoved into the front pocket of his jeans. He sighed. "Scully -" "Wha - " She was numb as the blood drained from her head and heart. He stared at the carpet. Her mind spun. "We have a life together and now you want to walk away? Just like that?" "Scully, I agreed to father a child with you. I didn't say anything about love or commitment or raising the child with you. And it's not a sudden decision." He bit at the inside of his cheek. She stared at him, her jaw slack and eyes glassy. Silence most foul filled the apartment before she spoke again. Anger boiled just below the surface. "How would you describe what we've been doing?" She didn't know if she wanted to vomit or cry (or both) as she thought of how much closer they had become since he was returned, since Will's birth. "What went wrong?" He avoided her eyes. "Was it all a lie? How'd you put it, 'maybe we've been afraid of what we've known all along?' - what was that all about?" He watched Will bounce in his swing, oblivious to the critical mass and meltdown of his nuclear family. She stood on weak knees and moved into his line of vision. He didn't acknowledge her presence. "Answer me," her tone harsh, then soft. "I did. You just didn't like my answer. It's time to move on with our lives. My life." He dropped his head again, this time to his hands, taking in the heavy band of gold. It restricted more than blood flow, its tight fit on his finger a constant, pinching reminder of what they had, what he lost and what they'll never have again. "That's unacceptable. Your convictions are such that you can turn your back on your son? On me? Did you *ever* love me or was I in love for the both of us?" "You have every right to be mad -" "How magnanimous of you -" she folded her arms against her chest, her fists clenched, and knuckles white. "You have every right to hate me and want me out of your life." "I *don't* want you out of my life. Our lives." She looked at Will and then back at him. "I love you, Mulder." He spun around to look into her eyes. "But why do you love me? What have I done or said in the last decade that's made you love me? What turned our working partnership into a personal one?" Tears rushed to fill her throat. It felt as though an invisible hand had slapped her across the face. Had she not told him often enough how she felt about him? Had their lovemaking not been just that - making *love*, sharing *love*? "I love you for the man you are, for your intelligence, your dedication and loyalty." "You can find those qualities in a dog, Scully." He winced at her wince. "Sorry. I didn't mean - " "No, you're right. A dog would have been cheaper." A crooked smile darted across her mouth. All couldn't be lost if he was still cracking wise, she thought. "And I love you because you gave me Will." "You asked me to help, and I did. I would have done anything to make you happy." His smile at the carpet was melancholy. She was exasperated. "You're talking in past tense. You *would* have done anything to make me happy? What changed that made you not want to make me happy?" He took in a deep breath and exhaled long and slow. He couldn't answer her. "By loving me back, you've made me happy. By giving 'us' a chance, you've made me happy. Can't you see that *you* make me happy?" Don't beg, she told herself. Don't beg. Don't beg. "It's got nothing to do with love, it's - " he sighed and turned to face the window again. How could he say what he needed to say without coming off like a complete fuck? God knew he didn't want to hurt her feelings. He couldn't remember when the center of his universe had shifted from his sister to the woman whose every move and sigh and arched eyebrow reminded him of the joy of ice cream on a hot day, of hot sex on crisp sheets, of Christmas and the Fourth of July rolled into one. In the years before their relationship turned carnal, his day wasn't complete without hearing her voice when they were apart, or a simple slide of his hand along the tiny bones of her back when they were together. Somehow, somewhere along the line since they'd become intimate, the seduction he'd long played with her had dissipated. Evaporated. Not that he loved her - he lied; he did love her, he does love her, he will always love her, and not just in the 'mother of my child' sense of love. But it wasn't the same love they vowed in front of Father McCue and her mother a few months after Will's birth, either. It was much more than anything he'd ever felt. He jumped when her hand closed around his wrist. She brought his hand to her lips and kissed the palm before she looked up into his dark, hooded eyes. "*You* make me happy. I denied my feelings for you for a long time Mulder, and once I admitted them my life became easier." He pulled his hand from hers and stepped away. "Tell me what happened Mulder. We're partners in every sense of the word. We can work out *any* problem." His eyes were always clear indicators of his soul, and when a dark cloud of doubt passed behind them, she knew. She shuddered when she realized his eyes were saying what his mouth couldn't. "It's not the same for you is it," she said, statement, not question. At his slight nod, her shoulders slumped. "So you want out. Just like that. Turn your back on your child, our child, the life we've built together, everything we've been through -" "Scully, please - " "'Please' what? Please don't use Will against you? Please don't let a few sacred vows guilt you into staying? Please don't make this any harder than it already is? Tough shit, Mulder." Angry tears streaked her cheeks and she swiped at them with fisted hands. He moved then, tried to put his arms around her but she rebuffed. He pulled his hands back as if he had touched a hot stove. "Don't, Mulder - just go." * She stared at his feet, still planted on the living room rug. Her mind and body were tired; she continued to replay in her mind what she thought were happy times they'd shared, before and since Will. She'd been doing it since he left a week ago. Had she looked up, she would have seen her misery and pain magnified ten times in his eyes. The mantle clock chimed four times. Somewhere in the apartment she heard Debussy's 'La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin' fade into NPR's "All Things Considered". He stood and stared at the bookshelves, the pictures of a happy family, happy life. He was having difficulty breathing around unshed tears. He hadn't moved in the ten minutes that he'd been there. "Da-da," Will said then, breaking the silence with a chirpy shout. His arms were above his head as baby hands opened and closed; baby language for 'pick me up'. "Hey Half-pint," Mulder said as turned and made his way to the bubbly child. He unbuckled the boy from the swing's seat and pulled him into a tender hug. He kissed the downy head of his son, breathed deep the sweet smells of babyhood and felt his heart beat stronger as the child nestled into his chest. He whirled around at the sound of a hitching hiccough to see her retreat down the hall, hands guiding her along the wall to what had been their bedroom. The door clicked shut behind her. His heart begged him to go to her, but his conscience told him to stay put. Use the fucking backbone you were born with; be a man. Find the wherewithal to sever all ties and get the fuck out of Dodge before you cause more pain, or get them all killed. Will's tiny fingers played with the collar of Mulder's t-shirt as the two of them made their way to the couch. He sat down and sat Will on his lap so he could see his face. He didn't want to forget this beautiful child, however miraculous; the child his wife and partner wanted, deserved, more than anything. He wanted to burn Will's image into his retinas. He didn't hear the bedroom door open or soft footsteps as she approached the kitchen. His undivided attention was on his son's hands. "You've got my long fingers," he said, their hands palm-to-palm, Mulder's fingers curled around to hold Will's. She could hear the smile in his voice. "But you've got your mommy's dexterity." He kissed the top of his son's head and rested his cheek against it. Mulder reached over the side of the couch and dragged a duffle bag close. "Everything in this bag is yours," he said as he scooted forward and sat Will on the coffee table. He unzipped the bag and the two of them leaned in to have a look. "My favorite basketball - signed by the 1996 New York Nicks," he said as he tossed the ball onto the couch behind him. "A pair of baseball gloves. A new one for your little hand, and my old one for when your hand gets bigger." He held the worn leather up to his nose and took in a deep breath. "Smell that?" He held the glove up to Will's pudgy nose. "That's what springtime smells like; fresh mowed grass, sunflower seeds and worn cow leather. Let's see, what else..." he laid the gloves on the coffee table beside Will. "...and there's a signed copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide to The Universe that your mommy gave me last year for Christmas and a much- loved copy of Moby Dick in the bottom." Mulder repacked the bag and laid the scrapbook to the side before he zipped the bag closed. He picked Will up from the table and the two of them settled into the couch cushions to look at the photo album. "This is yours too." He untied the black ribbon, opened the gray cover and thumbed through the first few pages. Clippings and report cards had slid from their moorings. He stuffed them back in and smiled at the photographs of toothless Samantha and Fox, mounted on the same page even though they were taken years apart. "This photo album is all I had to remember my family by, even before your grandmother died. It's yours now. Last week I took the time to label each picture - where and when they were taken, who the people are. And in the back," he flipped to the back of the scrapbook, "is my half of your family tree. See?" "That's me," he pointed to a rectangular box under his mother and father's names at his own name, Fox William, born October Thirteenth. Samantha Carol, born November Twenty-first was in the box next to his. "And here you are under mine and mommy's names." Fox William, m. Dana Catherine Scully (born: 02-23-63 married 01-29-01). "William Thomas, born November First." Mulder closed the book and retied the frayed ribbon. He had saved the worst for last. "Son -" he began but his throat closed up around a sob. Hazel eyes stared up into his and he felt his heart squeeze tight. He held Will against his chest then, tears of heartache and despair soaked into the boy's shirt. He stood and paced the living room, Will calm in his arms as Mulder hummed to him. He tried to speak again. He sat back down on the couch, this time with Will's head on his shoulder. "William, daddy has - has to go -" he broke off, his chest heaving as he tried to stave off more sobs. "I don't want to. I love you and your mommy so much but I have to go." Tiny fingers grabbed at Mulder's Adam's Apple. It bobbed as he swallowed tears. "Will, I - I don't know if I'll ever get to hold you again, but I'll always be with you. When you're alone and scared in your bed at night, just think about me and I'll come chase the monsters away -" he stopped and wiped his eyes and nose on the shoulder of his shirt before he continued. "And when your mommy finds someone to love her half as much as I do, I'll be with you when you walk her down the aisle." He hugged his son tight and cried in earnest this time. Scully covered her eyes and mouth to keep from being heard. * The living room was dark when Mulder woke later; Will was curled up on his chest, his tiny arm around Mulder's neck as the two had fallen asleep on the couch. He lay there a few minutes, relishing the weight of a child he didn't know he could love so completely. He took in the dark shadows of the room, the eerie shapes the trees cast on the window shades. Gently he stood, not wanting to wake Will with sudden moves. He slipped down the hallway and found the bedroom door ajar. Diffused street lamp light cast a buttery glow around the woman curled into a fetal position in the middle of the bed. He smiled at the Navajo afghan she was wrapped in as he slid Will under her arm. He tucked a few pillows around the baby and pulled the afghan back over the two of them. She stirred for a moment but did not wake. He eased himself down onto the mattress behind Will and sat there; he watched the two most important people in his world sleep. He brushed the hair from her face so he could see her more clearly. Her eyes and face were still red and puffy from crying. He hated himself for causing her so much pain. He traced the lines on her forehead with a light touch and her brow relaxed. She sighed. Will lifted his head and looked around. Mulder bent down and kissed the baby's forehead. "Shhh - go back to sleep, baby," he whispered. He watched as they both drifted into sleep. Doubt crept back into his mind. Why? Why couldn't he grab his wife and child and run? There were decommissioned military bunkers all over the country where the three of them could hide until They gave up their search. The Gunmen would help. Hell, they'd already offered. Because They won't stop looking, his conscience provided. If he went with Them, They'd leave his family alone. If he stayed, They'd hunt them down and take both Will *and* Scully. And that wasn't an option. He knew would walk the Earth and lay waste to anyone who had even a passing knowledge of Them or where his family had been taken. He watched as Will quieted, his head snuggled into the crease of Scully's elbow. He got off the bed and walked around to the other side. He sat down next to her. Her hair, shoulder-length again after years of severe shortness, was soft to the touch. He leaned in and kissed the top of her head. He rested his cheek at her temple and whispered into her ear. "I lied when I said I didn't love you, Scully. I had to make you want to hate me enough to throw me out of your life." He pulled back and kissed her eyebrow, her forehead. "I begged to see you one more time, see and hold our baby before I had to go back. I'm doing this for you and Will; I don't expect you to understand. Just know that I always have and always will love you. You were my redemption. When you talk to Will about me, tell him I love him more than anything or anyone in this world. Except you." He sniffed and dried his eyes. "I'm so sorry." He kissed her ear, her neck and finally brushed his lips against hers one final time. She stirred again when he stood up. "Muh-Mulder?" she mumbled, still asleep, eyes still closed. "Yeah, Scully?" "Come t'bed," she slurred. "I -" he struggled to get the words out. "I have to go. Goodnight, sweetheart." "I love you." She rolled her head away from him, and drifted back to sleep. He stood beside the bed, wringing his hands as he tried to get the wedding band off his finger. Finally it budged and he was able to remove it. He waited until her breathing evened out before he moved again. * The front door opened and closed. She listened as the front door opened and closed. The deadbolt clicked into place; he set it with his key from the hallway. She opened her eyes to look at the clock on his night table but a glint from his pillow caught her eye. She picked up the ring and held it in her hand. Inconsolable sobs broke loose when his keys fell through the mail slot and skittered across the floor. END Thank you Melly duckie for the quick once-over. :V Quack! Translation: Debussy's La Fille Aux Cheveux De Lin means Girl with the Flaxen Hair. A truly beautiful piece of work. Sagan, July 8, 2001 sagan@twinparadox.org http://www.twinparadox.org Check out the Pond-o-Fun! http://www.justduckies.org