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  This author's e-mail address has changed to: xanaduxf@yahoo.com
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From: Shannon Noelle <noelleleithe@mindspring.com>
Date: Tue, 7 May 2002 19:17:35 -0400
Subject: NEW Unbalanced (1/1)
Source: atxc

(Archivists: Unless you're Ephemeral/Gossamer, please ask first.)

Unbalanced
by Noelle Leithe
noelleleithe@yahoo.com

VA, MSRish, rated PG

Spoilers: Through "The Sixth Extinction: Amor Fati"

Summary: It's Mulder's first day back at work after his brain surgery, and
Scully's wondering what, exactly, has changed.

Notes: Follow me back in time a bit ... more at the end.

==========

Unbalanced
by Noelle Leithe


FBI Headquarters
November 8, 1999
7:58 a.m.

There was a brief moment of awkwardness when Mulder stepped back into
the office after nearly a month away. His forced recovery time over,
he stood in the doorway and surveyed the basement with a strange mix
of emotions playing across his face. Scully watched him,
surreptitiously checking for any signs that he was coming back too
soon. After all, he'd undergone brain surgery less than three weeks
before, and he wasn't known for taking it easy.

But as she looked at him, she realized he looked alarmingly healthy.
He was still too thin and a little pale, but his eyes were bright and
calm, and a small smile played at the corner of his mouth. She'd
noticed that in the time she'd spent with him during his
convalescence; even when he was deep in thought, a smile lurked around
his mouth and in his eyes.

Maybe that's why he looked so good this morning, she thought. He
lacked much of the dark demeanor he had never before been able to
shake. He looked different somehow. More relaxed. Younger. Peaceful,
she realized, still watching him.

He looked at her then, grinned that same boyish grin, and the spell
was broken. She couldn't help returning his enthusiastic greeting,
rising to her feet as he approached and not even feeling guilty as she
hugged him.

To her surprise, a lump the size of a grapefruit rose up in her
throat, and she had to swallow hard before she could speak. "Welcome
home, Mulder," she said, smiling up at him as they released their
embrace.

He chuckled, then shrugged. "I don't know; my apartment's actually
pretty comfortable when I give it a chance," he said, his hands still
resting at her waist. His gaze drifted across the filing cabinets and
eclectic mix of paraphernalia filling the small room. "This is a great
place to visit, but I don't think I'd want to live here."

She was startled, to say the least. Despite the obvious changes in
him, prompted either by the surgery or his own internal journeys, she
didn't know quite what to make of what seemed to be a lessened
interest in the X-files. These files had been his life for nearly a
decade; what could possibly have changed enough for them to slide in
importance?

She didn't get a chance to ask. Mulder had already pulled away,
running one hand up her arm before moving behind his desk. He glanced
at the mess of papers, grimaced, and immediately went to work on
straightening the desktop.

Once again, Scully found herself watching him with curious
fascination. Part of her wanted to just look at him, reassure herself
that he was healthy and sane and back at work where he belonged. But
another part of her was dying to interrogate him, to find out exactly
what about him had changed and what had stayed the same. For the first
time in years, she wasn't sure she knew what was motivating him, and
she found it scared her.

Ten days before, in yet another heartfelt conversation outside
Mulder's apartment, she had told Mulder that he was her constant, just
as she was his. No matter what else happened in her life, she knew
beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could count on him to do whatever
he could to help. He might not always do the right thing, but she knew
he would always make every effort to do and be what she needed him to
be.

So when that constant changed, when she sensed such a fundamental
difference in him, it unbalanced her. She still believed he would do
anything for her, just as she would do for him. She didn't doubt he
loved her, and she knew she loved him. But she was at a loss at how,
exactly, she should approach this new incarnation of Mulder. She could
deal with cranky Mulder, angry Mulder, cynical Mulder, upset Mulder,
injured Mulder, even lecherous Mulder.

She just wasn't quite sure what to do with happy Mulder.

Mulder evidently sensed her eyes on him, because he glanced up from
his meticulous paper-sorting, his face quizzical. "Did you need me for
something, Scully?" he asked.

Scully bit back the first reply that came to mind, and instead forced
a smile and said, "No, sorry. I guess I'm just glad you're back."

He grinned again. "Not half as glad as I am to be back," he said. He
glanced dubiously at the pile of files and papers in his inbox. "I
don't suppose we have a case?" he asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

Scully's smile relaxed in her relief. Maybe he *hadn't* changed that
much, she thought.

"Nope," she answered him, settling back down in her chair and turning
to her computer. "Skinner wants to see us at ten, but until then,
you're welcome to dig through the mail and see if anything's turned
up."

"Gee, thanks," came the sarcastic reply. "Just what I wanted to do,
Scully -- wade through paperwork."

Scully chuckled. "You know the deal, Mulder," she said. "Desk duty for
the first couple days, at least. So don't pick out something we have
to run off and do today."

She heard him sigh dramatically and smiled again as she started
typing.

The quiet lasted a full half-hour before Mulder piped up. "Hey,
Scully, listen to this," he said. "A woman in Wyoming says she saw her
daughter talking to the air a couple times last month, and the girl
insisted she was talking to a ghost. The woman didn't believe her, of
course, until she saw the ghost herself. It's an older woman, she
says, and she says the lady ..."

Scully half-listened, nodding in appropriate places, interjecting just
the objections she knew Mulder would expect. But only half her mind
was concentrating on the "case." The rest of her energy was spent on
absorbing Mulder, on watching him, hearing the sound of his voice and
feeling his presence.

She felt herself slipping into a state of melancholy that had plagued
her off and on since Mulder's disappearance. She'd felt so useless
while he was sick and then missing. She'd done nothing to help him,
nothing to bring him back or even find answers for him. All her
efforts had fallen to nothing; only a final act of kindness from an
enemy had brought him back to her at all.

For almost as long as she could remember, she'd teetered on a thin
edge between joy and hopelessness, with only her belief in Mulder and
his apparent confidence her, and in them together, to keep her
upright. She'd felt much more secure since their reconciliation after
El Rico; they'd made such progress in their relationship. They'd found
a balance between professionalism and deep friendship, even learning
how to have fun with each other without feeling awkward about it.

Now, though, despite the familiar flow of words coming from his mouth
as he read the case file, he was so obviously *different*. There was a
light in his eyes that wasn't there before, and she was completely
unable to make sense of it. She was unsure of his focus, unsure if
there still was a "them" at all, and she couldn't bring herself to
ask, fearful of the answers she'd receive.

Her foundation had shifted without warning or explanation, and she was
left teetering on the brink, barely able to keep herself from falling
over into the abyss.

"Scully?"

Mulder's voice was low and laced with concern, and as her eyes slowly
focused on him, she could see confusion and worry etched across his
face. Such a handsome face, she mused; nothing traditional or classic,
but so uniquely Mulder, like everything else about him.

Traditional. Classic. The things of a normal life; things they'd
forgone for the sake of their work. Things Mulder still thought she
wanted and needed, she realized, when the truth was that she couldn't
care less, as long as she had him.

But did she have him?

She wasn't so sure any more.

"Scully?"

His voice was closer this time, and Scully realized her eyes had
drifted half-shut. She pulled them open and turned her head slowly in
his direction; he'd emerged from behind his desk and was just reaching
her side, squatting down carefully to bring his face to her level.

"Scully," he repeated in that same soft, silk-over-sandpaper voice.
"Are you all right?"

Silence held her as she looked at him, her gaze roaming over his skin
from hairline to collar and back again, finally settling on his mouth.
Her hand moved from her lap, traveling up through the suddenly heavy
air, and before she knew it, her fingers were resting lightly on the
fullness of his lips.

She raised her eyes as if drawn by magnetic force and met his steady
gaze. She felt no embarrassment at her actions, and as soon as she
looked into his eyes, her worries about her status in the life of a
changed Mulder fled. The answers to all her questions were written in
the forest-deep green of his eyes.

Soon, he promised her silently, his thoughts so clear to her that she
could almost hear him saying the words. Whatever else changes in my
life, the way I feel about you won't. But it isn't our time yet, so
let's just enjoy the anticipation.

His unspoken words lodged deep in her heart, radiating warmth
throughout her body. I promise, she pledged to him in her mind, hoping
her words would reach his own heart. I promise to trust you, and to
treasure what we are, and to look forward to what we will be. His eyes
darkened, and he nodded almost imperceptibly, and she knew her message
had been received.

She drew her hand away slowly, dragging her skin across his, leaving
her fingerprints as her claim on him. His hand lifted to catch hers,
their fingers twining together on instinct.

His lips parted into a slow smile that gradually spread across his
whole face, crinkling his skin and lighting his eyes. She could no
more resist than she could give up breathing, and she felt her own
face reshaping itself to match his.

"So, Scully," he said, his voice back to normal. "It's a quarter to
ten. What say we shock the hell out of Skinner and show up early?"

She smiled and stood, solid and sure on her feet for the first time in
weeks. When she spoke, her voice was as light at her newly-unburdened
heart.

"Lead the way, partner."

=====END=====


Notes: This was written many many moons ago and has undergone various
revisions at various times. I finally got sick of staring at it and
yanked it back out to use as a submission for the Scullyfic Spring
Training 2002 fic book.

I know several people beta read at various times, but I somehow failed
to note who and thus am unable to thank them. I hope they'll forgive
me. :)

Feedback always welcome: noelleleithe@yahoo.com