From: " Leah C." Date: Tue, 1 Sep 1998 00:15:31 -0400 Subject: fan-fiction submission: "Truth" This is my first attempt at fan-fiction, and at internet communication. I've been on "the net" for a while, but only as an onlooker. "Truth" is a vignette from Mulder's point of view. It's MSR, with a touch of angst. I'd rate it a PG-13, but it does contain a moment of sexually graphic thought.... Spoilers: The End Disclaimers: The X-files, Mulder, Scully, Skinner - they all belong to Chris Carter. There is no malice or profit motive in posting this story. We all know this, but it still has to be said. Truth I may never understand why she's with me. I watch her sleeping; her light, even breathing is in tandem with my own. Silky copper strands of her hair brush my chin, caress her cheek, my chest. I smile, thinking that although there is no scientific proof linking coloring and personality, Scully could never be anything but a redhead. Nor her eyes be anything but blue, her skin that creamy white. She is fire and ice, my Scully. Detached, scientific Scully. Ferocious, passionate Scully. All in one tiny, curvaceous, beautiful package. She could be with anyone. I can think of half a dozen agents who would love to be where I am right now. Agents whose only agenda is whatever assignment they're given for the day and holding out 20 years for their pensions. "Because of the truth, Mulder." The sleepy statement startles me. I hadn't seen her eyes open and now she is staring up at me. "What?" "I'm with you now, I have always been with you, because you want the truth. You want to understand what and why....purely, completely. As wild as your ideas may seem, I know your beliefs are always about trying to make sense of it all. We're not as different as you'd make us out to be." She reaches up and brushes a kiss across my mouth, "Now, go to sleep, Mulder. It's a long day tomorrow." "What's tomorrow anyway - not like we have to go to the office." I'm surprised at the bitterness in my voice. The fire hadn't shocked me; it had fit things all too well. It was Scully who had cried. She had wrapped her body around mine, and I had felt her tears dampening my shirt. Skinner hadn't said anything - not about the arson, not about the way she held me. Nothing about us seems to faze him anymore. I suppose he suspects that we're lovers, but he's allowed us the privilege of 'don't ask, don't tell.' "Tomorrow we find out if we still have jobs, if we're still partners." Anyone else would have missed the quaver of her voice on the word 'partners'. I kiss her gently. "We're always partners, Dana. They can't change that." Her wide blue eyes are anxious, unsure. Funny, I forget it also matters to her. Losing Scully....well I know from experience it would destroy me, which is why I'm not ever letting it happen again. Somehow, though, I think Scully would be fine without me, that she'd just pick up the pieces and go on. Not that she wouldn't be sad for a while. I guess, selfishly, I think I love her more. Even though she's put her life on the line for me more times than anyone can count. Even though I'm the only one she lets see her cry. Even though less than an hour ago she'd been underneath me, begging me to touch her, to fuck her, harder and harder, and then was screaming my name. I still sometimes can't believe she loves me. How could anyone love someone as fucked up as me? Her hand traces the planes of my face and I watch, fascinated as her eyes go from worried, to serious, to smoldering. "No, you're right. They can't change the truth." I don't miss the levels of meaning of her words: the truth of her love for me, of our souls' forever partnership, and the truth we're trying to find. Truth can not be altered. Hidden, yes, but not altered. Then she kisses me and her mouth, her body, her desire....she hides nothing from me. My Scully. I don't know why she's with me, but the truth of the matter is simply that she is...she is. Questions/comments? Email me at: isis-anew@mail.geocities.com