From: "Bee" Date: Mon, 1 Nov 1999 17:28:41 -0000 Subject: revisions Source: revision TITLE: Uncut AUTHOR: Bee Slayer RATING: PG, prob. CATEGORY: S,R,V-ish KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully UST/romance SPOILERS: Memento Mori (see author's crap), the whole Scully-abduction/cancer thing up to then, Never Again DISCLAIMER: Oh for god's sake. I don't own anyone, they all belong to CC, 1013 and Fox. I'd like Mulder, but somehow I don't see that happening. Although, there's always my clone... SUMMARY: What if that scene in Memento Mori hadn't been cut? Scully's just returned from the hospital, and is doing some serious thinking about the state of her and Mulder's relationship. Written in the first person. AUTHOR'S CRAP: This is just something I came up with last night just before ER started (It was the Storm part 2. The one where Doug Ross leaves. V emotional.) I didn't take in all that much, as I had inspiration, and I had to write. Anyway... To clear a few things up, in the original script for Memento Mori, Mulder kind of kissed Scully in the hallway in that big, gooey scene. (yes, another hallway.) This story assumes that that happened, and was not cut, although it was actually cut from the final version. CC seems to take great delight in cutting out shippy moments from the show. It was only a little peck, but it no doubt would have got her thinking. So here are some of her thoughts. Get it? Either that or it was just DD messing around again... The scene is available somewhere on the internet, here actually: Thanx to whoever it was that told me that, sorry, I can't remember your name. On with the show... *********************************************************************** And if you call, I will answer and if you fall, I'll pick you up and if you court this disaster I'll point you home Call and Answer, Barenaked Ladies I don't think I have ever felt so many emotions all at once. Today was *so* intense. I've been lying here trying to sleep for - I glance at the clock - 4 hours, and nothing. I'm just not interested in sleep. How can I sleep after everything that's happened? I was only released from the hospital 6 hours ago, all I did when I was there was sleep. At least that's what it felt like. Mulder drove me home, being very caring and understanding about the whole thing, telling me to get some rest. He kissed me. I cannot believe he kissed me. I know - no, my *mind* knows that it meant nothing. A simple peck, nothing more than that. But try telling that to my heart. My heart is taking an entirely different viewpoint on this. That there's no such thing as 'just a kiss'. At least not for Mulder. There's no *just* anything for Mulder. My heart says that he meant it when he kissed me. Okay, so it wasn't exactly intensely passionate. Quite the opposite in fact, it was innocence at it's height. Mulder's quite successful attempt at comforting me. But that's not the point. The point is the fact that I'm having this reaction to it. The point is that with everything else that's going on, I'm focussing on this. Maybe that's *why* I'm focussing on it. *Because* of everything else. Perhaps I'm treating it like a diversion. Mind candy. I mean, I've just found out I have cancer for god's sake! Shouldn't that take precedence over whatever tangled feelings I have for Mulder? Of course it should. But it's not. Every time I try to focus on that, or the death of Penny Northern, or the way that I contracted this disease in the first place, or who gave it to me, I just keep going back to those moments in the hospital hallway. It felt good to be in his arms. It felt good to finally *allow* myself to be in his arms. I had promised myself that it wouldn't happen, that I wouldn't give in to this. I didn't want to be a victim. I didn't want him to feel sorry for me. I didn't want his pity. But pity is not what he feels. No, pity is not a Mulder emotion. A Mulder emotion is care, it's concern, understanding. It's love. What kind of love, I don't know. It's a question I've only just allowed myself to consider. But it was there, in his eyes as he looked at me today. Does he love me? If so, how? As a partner? A friend? Something else? Do I *want* him to love me as something else? Yeah, right. Stop kidding yourself, Dana. Life is short. Way too short to deny my feelings any longer. To say I'm confused would be the understatement of the century. You could write a novel on all the emotions swirling around in my head right now. Sadness, at the death of Penny, at the impending death of myself. Anger, at the bastards who did this. Relief, that at least I'm still here, and able to carry on working. Confusion, about what's going to happen now, about Mulder Fear, about what will happen to me. I don't want to die. I feel cheated, I should have had so much longer. The chance to get married, have children, to love and to be loved back. The chance to grow old. Love, pure and simple. Love for Mulder. I could never have done this without him. I give a humourless laugh; without him I would have died. Right now, through the 'treatment', the only thing keeping me going is, and was, the thought of him. The look of sorrow on his face when I showed him my brain scans broke my heart. Just as much as seeing them broke his. He just looked so...so sad. God, I thought he was gonna argue with me about it till he was blue in the face. He didn't want to accept it any more than I did. Maybe even less. I mean, I'm a doctor. I see this sort of thing much more often than he does. I can understand him being more scared than me. And he's tried, he really has. Tried to find a cure to find out who did this and why. And I appreciate that. God knows I would have liked him next to me, by my bed when I was sleeping. But I am eternally grateful for what he did. I hope he knows that. Of course he knows, he read my journal. I just can't bring myself to be angry about it, I shouldn't have left it lying around. Mulder has a curious streak, to say the least. I didn't want him to read it, at least not on a conscious level. Pity again. I didn't want his pity. So if I didn't want him to read it, why did I write it? In case I died? In case I *die*? Stupid. I'm so stupid. I was willing to die without telling him how I felt. I was willing to-to go with just my thoughts - pretty abstract thoughts at that - from my so-called journal to leave him with. No 'Mulder I love you'. Too hard. No, stupid isn't it. Pathetic is more like it. I was so close. So close to never letting him know. That's life, as someone once said. However long my life's going to last now. I can almost feel time slipping away from me. I feel my chances to let him know how I feel disappearing with every second. I love him. I want-I *need* him to know that. Before it's too late. But I'm so scared. Scared at what might happen if I told him. I mean, what if he doesn't feel the same way? It's this fear that stops me from ever saying anything, that has stopped me saying anything for the past four years. God, has it really been that long? I need to get over this fear, to ignore the possibility of him not feeling the same. It's not even like it's a huge possibility. The look on his face in the hospital was all I needed to realise that he *does* love me. I think. But as I said before, *does* he love me like that? Is he as attracted to me as I am to him? Is he *in* love with me? Because, god knows I'm in love with him. There's a knock at the door, jolting me away from my thoughts, thoughts that, to be honest, I was glad to get away from. I know who it is. There's only one person who knocks at this time of night. It can only be Mulder. I get up and answer the door, not even bothering to check who it is. I don't expect to see him standing that close to me as I open the door. I gasp slightly, something that most people wouldn't even notice. Unfortunately, I've got a very perceptive partner, who gives me an odd look. He says nothing however, but I know he noticed. "Hey," I say, what else can I say, 'oh I was just thinking about you'? Too much of a cliche, thank you very much. "Hey. Look, I know it's late, but I needed to speak to you." This sounds serious. I motion for him to come in. "I was awake anyway. I seem to have a lot on my mind at the minute." Another weird look. I don't think he's even aware that he's doing it. " A lot on your mind," he repeats doubtfully. "Funnily enough, Mulder, yes. Just little things, you know, my cancer, being abducted by unknown persons, the small matter of a global government conspiracy. Does that constitute a lot?" The harsh tone of my voice makes him wince slightly, and his usual guilty look re-appears. I feel instantly guilty, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have bit his head off like that. "Sorry." What is *with* him? "Mulder, is something wrong?" He sighs, seemingly coming out of his little 'trance'. He sits on my sofa, running a tired hand through his hair. I notice that he's wearing the same clothes he was when I saw him earlier today. I can't help but frown at this, he hasn't even tried to sleep. He sees my frown, and grins at me, "I know, I know, don't give me the lecture, Scully. I just...never got around to sleep, that's all." "You never got around to it?" I sit down next to him. "Any particular reason?" He gives me a look, and I realise what a stupid question that was. I know what he's like, he was probably worrying about me. In fact, scrap the 'probably.' I know how selfish this is, but it's nice to know that he was worrying. I'd prefer that he got some sleep, but it's nice to know he cares. "I was worried about you," he says, confirming my suspicions. I say nothing for a while, not sure what *to* say. "Why are you here, Mulder?" He turns and looks at me, "as I said, I was worried about you. I-" he shrugs sheepishly, "I just needed to see you. To see that you were alright." Ohh... sometimes I remember why I love him. But I can't say that. Instead I say; "I can take care of myself, Mulder." "I know that. It's just.. I don't know, Scully. Seeing you like that today made me realise just how close I really was to losing you." With a heartbreakingly sad look on his face, he amends that sentence, "how close I still am. I guess I just realise how much you mean to me, and I felt I had to tell you that." He takes my hand. "I will do everything in my power to find a cure, Scully. If you believe anything, believe that." Oh, I do. I know he will do everything he possibly can do, and probably even more. "Mulder, if there's one thing in this world I do believe in, it's you. You know that. And even though..." I trail off, "even though I think you're wasting your time, I appreciate the fact that you're willing to look." "I'll look forever if I have to." I smile weakly, feeling the tears come to my eyes, "then let's hope you don't have to." We just look at each other, and I am suddenly very aware of just how close we are. I can hear his breath, and can see the way his eyes are darkening. My heart starts beating faster, and I know that my facial expression matches his. This is too dangerous, it can't happen. I give him a regretful look, and stand up slowly, painfully. Mulder shuts his eyes briefly, and looks up at me, a hurt expression on his face. Behind that, I can see that he understands. I draw in a shaky breath. Oh god, I'm gonna cry. There is no way I'm going to let him see me cry again. "I, uh...I'll be back in a sec." Is that the best I could come up with? Ugh, that was lame. He can see through that, he's not stupid. But hopefully he's perceptive enough to realise that I need a couple of minutes. I half run into my room and sit on the bed. I'm not going to cry. Not again. I've done enough of that lately to last me a lifetime. Although my head's in my hands, I can sense him coming into the room. "Mulder, go away," I force out, although I know Mulder well enough to know that it will only make him more determined to come in. I wish he wasn't so damn stubborn. "Scully?" he sounds so concerned. I risk a look up at him. Bad idea. This only makes the tears flow faster. I feel him come to me and sit down on the bed next to me. He takes me into his arms, and I wrap my arms around his neck, letting go of any hold I might have had on my emotions. This man...he has a way of breaking down my walls, my carefully constructed barriers around my emotions. Sometimes I hate him for it. Other times...other times it reminds me just why I'm head over heels in love with him. He kisses my hair, holding me tight, but not too tight. We need no words. I don't need to hear him say, 'it'll be alright' to know that he's thinking it. If he said it, he would only be lying. We both know that. It's not gonna be alright. I pull back, drawing in a shaky breath. He sighs, "You're strong, Dana. Stronger than anyone I know. But sometimes the strength isn't in hiding your feelings. Sometimes you have to let someone else in, let them see just how strong you really are. I *know* you pride yourself on keeping control of your emotions, but you're only human. You feel, just like everyone else does." He looks at me affectionately, "maybe even more." "Mulder, I-" He shakes his head, letting me know that whatever I was going to say, I don't need to say it. He knows. "You can get through this, Dana. If anyone can, it's you." We stare at each other for a bit. He's going to kiss me. I can see it in the way he's looking at me, feel it in the way he's holding my shoulders. My only answer to his last statement is a weak sniff. If I even attempted to speak, it would just start the floods of tears all over again. He shuts his eyes, as if pained at my expression. Oh god, now I can't stop it. I feel more tears pour down my cheeks, and he wipes them away, leaving behind trails of heat where his finger was. We're so close. We've been this close before, but It never felt like this. This is dangerous, we both know it. He brushes my hair back off my face, even this small contact sending an electric shock down my spine. I let out a small sob, but never break eye contact with him. He lowers his lips to mine, a brief, gentle kiss. A kiss like he gave me in the hospital, but this time it's different. This time he means it. He draws back, but only very slightly. Our lips are still touching, but barely. I know what he's doing. He's making sure I want this: giving me an escape route. Offering me an alternative. I can pull back, knowing how close we came, and the moment will be lost forever. Or I can close the tantalisingly small distance between our lips. This all takes place in the space of seconds. It feels like all the time in the world, and no time at all before I make my decision. I close that distance, causing our lips to brush together once more. He lets out a soft moan, and I know that he's wanted this for as long as I have. And that's a *long* time. Suddenly, our kisses aren't all that soft anymore, but are slowly growing more passionate. I lose the will to breathe. I don't need to breathe. If it's a choice between taking a breath and this kiss, then I'd gladly suffocate. My head's spinning, my thoughts out of focus. I imagine that if I were to open my eyes, my vision would be blurred, too. We fall back onto the bed, with me underneath him. One arm is wrapped around his neck, the other tangled in his hair, pulling him to me. He's doing the same, only his arms are around my waist. I can't think straight. The world around us has disappeared, only we are left. The sensation of his mouth on mine, arms around each other, *tongues* around each other's. Heaven, pure heaven. But no good thing lasts forever, as Mulder pulls away, a troubled look on his face. "Mulder?" I force out, my mind clearing. He looks at me, and then breaks the contact. I feel cold where his touch was, like there's something missing again. He sits up, as if putting as much distance between us as he can without my getting suspicious. Oh please, I know him better than that, and he knows it. "We can't do this." I can't believe he just said that. For a minute there I was certain... But I just frown, how can I answer that? He looks back up at me, and gives a half laugh, "I feel as if I'm taking advantage of you." "What?" I ask softly. He exhales heavily, still not recovered from our kiss. I know the feeling, I still don't think I could form a coherent sentence. "Dana, you're scared, vulnerable right now. I don't want to take advantage of that vulnerability." "You wouldn't be." I can't believe him. I raise my eyes, which I dropped when he started his sentence, and I'm startled to see the depth of emotions in his eyes. Regret, sadness, desire. I see that he *does* want this. "But I'd feel like it. Dana, I don't want to let you do something that you'd regret in the morning, no matter how right it feels." "Who says I'd regret it?" "I know you. I know that you would. And you mean too much to me to let that happen, no matter how much I want to." He smiles weakly at this, "no matter how much I'd like to take advantage of you." I can't help smiling briefly at this. "Mulder, I think that sometimes you underestimate me." He shakes his head, all seriousness again, "No. I think that *you* underestimate yourself. No matter how right this might be, you're not yourself right now, as condescending as this sounds, you're not thinking straight. And I'd rather wait until we can both be sure that this is the right way to go, that we both want this as much as we think we do." My heart melts. Is he really saying what it sounds like he's saying? What I want him to be saying? What did I do to deserve him? "Mulder..." I stop, not quite sure what I want to say. He smiles warmly, a gentle, comforting smile. A smile that seems to say, 'I know you disagree with me now, but you'll know why in the morning.' The thing is, I *do* know he's right. I *would* rather wait until I'm in a better state of mind. But it's not easy. The temptation to just jump him is huge. And he's only human, no matter how sweet and considerate he's being right now. 4 years is a long time to wait... "You're right." "Aren't I always?" He grins quickly, but the humour is lost quickly, "but believe me, this is one time that I wish I were wrong." "Me too," I whisper. So what now? Mulder caresses my cheek gently, his face filled with regret. He kisses me softly, innocently. Well, not completely innocently. From anyone else but him, the kiss would be innocent. But from Mulder...from Mulder it's a promise. A taste of things to come. "See ya," he says, getting up. "Mulder, wait." He stops, looking at me curiously. I feel my face crumple, I'm still not completely past my crying. "Don't go." He looks relieved, like he was hoping I'd say that. He doesn't want to go any more than I want him to. He sits back down on the bed, pulling back the covers for me. *Okay, think platonic thoughts, Dana* I think as I slip underneath the covers, waiting for him to do the same. I lay me head back on the pillow, as he quickly pulls off his jeans. By mutual silent agreement, we agree not to take this any further than we should. Two friends taking comfort from each other, nothing more. I feel him looking at me as he gets comfortable. I know it's something that's always amused and irritated people, the way we can have whole conversations without the need for words. A slight change of facial expression, a look, and we can say all we need to say. This is one of those times. Silently, I move towards him, and he takes me into his arms, holding me as I cry myself to sleep. Just before I drift off, I feel him move his lips against my hair, as if he's saying something. Dare I hope that it's the only words I want to hear from him? I love you? Or am I just setting myself up for more disappointment by even thinking that? I'm too tired to contemplate this right now, so I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next morning, I wake up to the sounds of someone moving around next to the bed. I slowly open my eyes to see Mulder looking for his trainer. It'll be under the bed. Everything that gets lost in this house ends up under the bed. Don't ask me how, it just does. It's like a black hole under there. I glance at my bedside clock: 6:15. Damn. I hear him curse softly as he spots the runaway shoe. "Good morning sunshine," I murmur, seeming to catch him off guard. He spins around to look at me, and kind of grins sheepishly. "I tried not to wake you, you looked so sweet sleeping there." "You were just gonna go?" He gives me a look. I know that I shouldn't have said that, I don't know why I did. "You need all the sleep you can get, Scully." He points out. Oh, so we're back to Scully now, are we? "You're going in to work today, then?" I say, glad. I don't want him to feel that he's got to stay and 'look after me'. "Yeah. You would not believe the paperwork..." He spots the look on my face. "No. No way. You're staying right here, there is no way you are coming into work." "I think that's my decision, don't you?" "No, I think it's your doctor's." "Yeah, well he said I could go back to work as soon as I felt up to it." I stare him straight in the face, "And I feel up to it." Mulder shakes his head and sits down on the side of the bed, "Maybe you do, but I don't believe you. I know you, Scully. And I know that you're not coming into work today." What the hell did that mean? "Mulder-" "Look, Scully. Technically, I am your superior, and if I say take the day off..." He doesn't finish this, but instead decides to try a different track, "Please, Scully, okay? I'd feel a lot better if I knew you were here, resting." I must look doubtful. "For me?" I sigh, "fine. I'll take the day off." He smiles, and stands up. "Thank you." "Try not to work too hard, 'kay?" I say, knowing he'll take no notice. But when does he ever? "I'll try, but I'm making no promises," he jokes, laughing softly at the look on my face. He'll probably still be at work when I'm going to bed tonight. "Hey, Mulder?" I call out tentatively, not wanting him to go just yet. "Yeah?" "Thank you. For last night." He grins for a second, but then just as quickly as it appeared, the humour is lost, "Anytime." He starts to leave again, but seems to change his mind, and walks quickly over to me again, and kisses me, taking me completely by surprise. It's a perfect kiss, passionate but tender. Full of desire, but heartbreakingly soft. I'm kissing him back with just as much enthusiasm. If I had any doubt of his feelings for me, I don't now. It's not a particularly long kiss, but it says everything that needs to be said. How much we love each other, how much we want each other. To be perfectly honest, I want him to make love to me right now, but I know it's not going to happen. He releases me, and gives another one of his sheepish grins. He says nothing, but kisses my forehead, repeating his gesture from yesterday. He then gives me another quick kiss on the lips, before leaving my room for good now. I sigh, lying back on the bed. No one has even had this effect on me. I have never been this affected by a mere kiss before. But then, I've never loved anyone this much either, have I? I smile. I had often wondered if he was as passionate with everything as he is about finding 'the truth'. I have a sneaking suspicion that the answer is yes. God, he is sexy. There's always been this spark between us, since the beginning, but it's never came to the surface like that. We've never kissed before. They say that first impressions last, and that you can sometimes judge a relationship by that first Kiss. If that's true, then whoa, are we going to have great sex. I think - I think I'm glad that it didn't go any further last night. I'm not an impulsive person. I prefer to think about things first, not just jump in like that. And he was right, I would be regretting it now, no matter how great it was (and I know it would have been incredible). Okay, I'm getting carried away here. We've only kissed. I don't know for certain that he wants it to go any further. I mean, it's not uncommon for a guy to be a typical male pig, is it? Living for a couple of cheap thrills, but the thought of an actual honest to god relationship scares the shit out of them. No. If that were true, he wouldn't have stopped last night. And I would have more than likely been feeling like shit right now. He wants this just as much as I do. So now what do we do? We need to talk, I know that much. But that's the hard part, isn't it? Talking about the way we're feeling has never been the strong point of either of us. But we *do* need to discuss what just happened. If only there wasn't so much else going on right now. It feels almost wrong, thinking this much about Mulder when I'm dying of cancer. I wonder if he's thinking the same thing. Knowing him, he probably is. I kick the covers off the bed and get up. Lying here is pointless. No matter how much I apparently need my sleep, I'm not tired. All I'm doing lying there is going over and over the whole Mulder thing. And I don't want to do that. I don't want to dwell on it. I go to the fridge, I need some orange juice. Damn! None left. That's weird, I could have sworn I had some yesterday. Mulder must have drank it. Typical, and I bet he didn't even use a glass, just drank straight from the carton. I get a sudden urge to lift the juice carton to my lips, but fight it. I'm not that lovesick. Yet. I pause outside the office door, listening to the sound of Mulder on the phone. He's not going to be happy about me coming into work today. So what. I cannot spend another minute in my apartment. The memories of last night and this morning are still too fresh in my mind. All I could think of when I was there was the two of us on the bed, the sensation on Mulder's mouth against mine, the taste of him- I stop. This is not healthy. I have to stop obsessing over it. He seems to have finished on the phone, so I go in. He's at his desk, bent over some paperwork, his reading glasses on. "Glad to see you're hard at work," I say, smiling inwardly at the look on his face. "What are you doing here?" He asks, not exactly looking happy to see me. "Oh, that's nice." He gives me a look. "You're supposed to be resting." I roll my eyes and sit down, "Yeah, well, I got sick of resting." He's giving me a weird look. It's a cross between 'you are so frustrating' and 'I want you right here, right now.' "You only got back from the hospital yesterday" "What, so I'm a prisoner in my own home now?" "I didn't say that." Maybe not, but that's what he meant. "It's my life, Mulder." Ooh, deja vu. It wasn't so long ago that I said that to him concerning a different situation. "Maybe, but I still think that you should go home." "I'd rather be here doing paperwork than spend another minute at my place." "Yeah, well I'd rather you had to suffer through daytime TV than be here." "Oh thank you very much." "I didn't mean it like that. I just-" He stops, and gives a small laugh, "You're as stubborn as I am, you know that?" I smile, "I know." He gets up, and I get the feeling that he's been in that desk since he got here. "Look, you're on doctor's orders to take it easy for a couple of days, and to be honest, I'd feel a hell of a lot better if I knew you were at home, resting, too." "I can rest here." He sighs, shaking his head at me. "Scully," "Look, Mulder," I say, getting up myself as I get more worked up, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm perfectly alright, and I don't appreciate being treat like an invalid." "Scully, as much as I'd like you to stay, I don't think Skinner will be quite as enthusiastic. He can order you to go home, and he probably will. So please, will you just go?" "Are you going to tell him?" He is *such* a hypocrite. Since when does he follow doctor's orders? "Yes, if I have to." He calms down visibly, "Scully, please. For me?" "Oh, so it's emotional blackmail now, is it?" "No. I just c-" A knock at the door interrupts his sentence, whatever he was going to say. Skinner comes in, speak of the devil, looking surprised to see me. Great. It's going to be two-on-one now. I might as well just give up and go home. "Agent Scully, what are you doing here?" He asks, glancing at Mulder quickly, but not quick enough. "I'm just leaving, sir." What's the point? "I'll see you whenever, Mulder." I walk out of the office, shutting the door not-so-quietly behind me. I can hear Mulder's muffled voice, then the door opening and shutting again. "Scully, wait." I spin around, ready for a fight. "What?" I ask harshly. He comes to a stop directly in front of me, invading my personal space. "I'm sorry, okay? I just worry about you, that's all. Surely you can understand that?" The tone of his voice almost brings tears to my eyes again. "I understand that, but Mulder, I can take care of myself." "I know. And I'm sorry. But you can't blame me for caring about you." I smile weakly, "I guess not. But you don't have to worry so much you know. I'm not going to do anything stupid." He laughs, "Like me, you mean?" "Yeah." I pause, "I'm sorry, too." "For what?" "For biting your head off in there. I know it's only because you care, but maybe you care too much." "Maybe I do. But I can't help the way I feel, Scully. You know that." "I know," this comes out as barely a whisper. "But neither can I." He takes my hands, "I care about you Dana. A lot. And unfortunately, I worry about you just as much. And that's never going to change." He starts to say something, but changes his mind. He then changes his mind again. "You can stay if you want." "No, you're right. I should go home. Rest. Whatever." He nods slowly, and I see that he really would have liked me to stay. On impulse, I lean up, and quickly kiss him softly on the lips, my arms going around his neck. I remember where we are, and pull away before the kiss threatens to overwhelm me. When I do pull back, Mulder looks at me in shock. "Are you crazy? What if Skinner had came out?" He would have went mad. "Could have been fun to watch," I point out. He stares at me for a few more seconds, until his expression changes to one of great amusement, "You are crazy." He wraps his arms around my waist, "I think you've been around me for too long." I shrug, "so we'll be crazy together." Mulder fakes a shudder, "I can just imagine his reaction. I don't think he'd be too pleased." He grins at me again, "You'd think you were trying to get us both fired." "It could be worth it," I murmur, not quite seriously. "Definitely. You know, I think we'll have to put that to the test one day. If we ever need some entertainment." "Oh, it's nice to know that that's all I am to you, entertainment," I say, not really serious. "You know I didn't mean that. I love you too much to-" He stops, as if realising what he just said. My eyes widen as his words sink in. Did he really just say that? Did he really just tell me he loves me? "Did you just say what I think you just said?" I ask, realising that I'm not making all that much sense. For a second he looks like he's about to deny it, but he changes his mind, "If you think that I just said that I love you, then yeah, I just said what you think I just said." He pauses, "Dana, I fell in love with you the minute I saw you." If there's one truth I believe in, it's this one. His truth. That he loves me. "Well that's good, because I feel the same way. I love you, Fox Mulder, as much as I tried not to." "You don't know how happy I am to hear you say that." "I think I've got a pretty good idea, Mulder." He opens his mouth to answer me, but changes his mind and kisses me instead. Right now, I don't *care* if Skinner sees us. We're getting very passionate - too passionate for the basement hallway of the J Edgar Hoover building. Especially considering that Skinner's just on the other side of the wall. Mulder ends the kiss, remembering where we are, and gazes down at me affectionately. "It's nice to finally be able to do that," he says, in perhaps the biggest understatement of this century. I nod in agreement. I realise that this is not the time or the place for this discussion, no matter how oblivious to the surroundings we've been for the last couple of minutes. "I should go. We don't really want Skinner to have an aneurysm." Mulder reluctantly agrees, "No. We should leave it until he really annoys us." I pull out of his embrace with great difficulty. No one should have to need this much willpower. "See ya." "You too." I smile quickly, and head for the elevator. I turn around for a second, "But I warn you Mulder, if I come back to work addicted to Sunset Beach, it'll be your fault." "I'll accept all responsibility, don't worry." I hope that stretches to what Skinner will say when he finds out, because that is not going to be pretty. It doesn't matter. All that matters is that we love each other, and I don't care what anyone else thinks. It's our life. And *that's* the truth. *********************************************************************** Soft, heavenly eyes gazed into me, transcending space and time and I was rendered still there were no words for me to find at all as I stood there beside myself I could see you and no one else. When I saw you When I saw you I could not breathe, I fell so deep When I saw you, when I saw you I'd never be, I'd never be the same. When I saw you, Mariah Carey *************************************** Sorry for the song at the end, but I felt that it kinda fits, know what I mean? Anyway, I felt I had to slip a couple of *truth* comments in there somewhere, hope it didn't spoil it. Anyway, feedback welcome at > See ya!