From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 6 Apr 2002 22:54:28 -0000
Subject: Unsaid by Rebel
Source: direct

Reply To: CDRebel@aol.com


Title: Unsaid
Author: Rebel
Category: MSR
E-Mail: CDRebel@aol.com
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Millenium, slight one for Irresistible
Disclaimer: I don't own the x-files characters, and don't 
particularly want to.  So I just borrow them from time to time, 
and return them when I'm done.  That way storage and maintenance 
are someone else's problem.  Chris Carter, Fox, etc. own all the 
rights.  See them if you want permission to borrow them; or do 
what I do, just slip them out while nobody's looking and return 
them the same way, almost as good as new.

Unsaid

Mulder had his arms straight down at his sides, hands balled into 
fists.  He glared down at his partner standing only a few inches 
from him.  Scully mirrored his posture, fists tight, chin raised 
defiantly, glaring back at him.  Finally Mulder, realizing they 
were at at impasse, closed his lips in a tight line over his 
clenched teeth and spun around to face away from her.  He put 
his hands on his hips and stared at the ceiling for a moment, 
taking a couple of deep, slow breaths.  When he turned back to 
her, his face was closed, his voice flat, unemotional.

He indicated the clock with a slight jerk of his head.  "It's 
time to go. I'll see you Monday."  They prepared to leave in 
silence, neither looking at the other.  They walked in hurt, 
frustrated silence to their cars and left.

Mulder walked over to the couch and forced himself to sit down 
for the fifteenth time tonight.  He reached over to the other 
end of the couch and grabbed the TV remote he had flung there a 
few minutes ago.  He started randomly flipping through channels 
again.  He tossed the remote down again with a growl.  The only 
thing he was seeing was his angry partner's face, ice-blue eyes 
snapping.  His ears were ringing with her sharp words.  He 
jumped up impatiently and started pacing again.  Suddenly, his 
apartment was too small, he had to get out.  He grabbed his 
keys and left.

Mulder sat in his car staring up at Scully's dark apartment.  
He'd lied to himself all the way over saying he was just going 
for a drive to cool off.  They had to talk, but what could he 
say?  Things had been strained between them for a while now and 
he didn't know why.  He shook his head.  He was lying to himself 
again.  He did know why.  He knew exactly when it started.  

It started when he kissed her on New Year's Eve.  He had started 
to call her the next night out of habit, but he'd felt awkward 
and hung up before she answered.  He hadn't talked to her again 
till they were back at the office.  Scully acted like nothing had 
happened so he'd taken that as his guide and did the same.  But 
she'd been uncomfortable around him, and soon had become irritated 
with him.  After a while, anytime they talked they ended up 
arguing.  So they avoided each other as much as possible, 
considering they were partners.  They'd talked only when 
necessary, and still ended up arguing.  

Mulder sat in his car and sighed.  He missed her so much it hurt.  
He could tell by the way she was acting that it wouldn't be long 
before she left him.  Left the X-Files, he corrected.  She had 
already left him, just not physically.  He was afraid to see her 
again, afraid she would ask for a transfer.  But he couldn't stay 
away.  He smiled slightly.  Now he knew why a moth flew to the 
flame.  It knew it would get burned, but just had to go there 
anyway.  

He slowly got out of his car and headed up to her apartment.  
When he got there, he leaned his forehead against the door.  He 
didn't want to hear what she was going to say.  But he had to 
hear what she was going to say.  He had to try to talk her out 
of it.  He lifted his hand and knocked.

Scully sat up and beat her fists against the pillow again.  She 
wished it was Mulder's face.  She pounded it again, then wondered 
in passing if her pillow would survive this night's abuse.  She 
straightened the twisted sheets, again, then plopped down and 
stared at the wall, again.  She could feel her face glow hot in 
the darkened room as she remembered the words she had spat out at 
Mulder.  She was horrified.  What had possessed her to cut him 
down like that?

What had possessed her?  That was simple.  Simple fear.  She had 
been hiding behind sarcasm and anger.  When he had kissed her on 
New Year's Eve, she had been on top of the world.  But when he 
calmly remarked, "The world didn't end," she had come crashing 
down again.  She struggled to present a calm exterior to match 
his, and replied,  "No, it didn't."  

But it had.  She was mortified that what meant so much to her 
was nothing but a friendly kiss between partners to him.  She 
agonized all the next day over it, and decided to act like it 
was nothing important.  It obviously wasn't important to him.  
Back at work, she found herself staring at Mulder covertly.  
It occurred to her that he would probably be uncomfortable if 
he knew how she felt.  He was dedicated to the X-Files.  He 
wouldn't let anything interfere with the work.  He might be 
uncomfortable enough to feel like he couldn't work with her.  
He might even ask to have her transferred.  The thought left 
her numb.  

Well, she decided, I'll just have to show him this isn't 
personal.  That I'm here for the X-Files, and it has nothing to 
do with him.  So, when Scully found herself wanting to reach 
out to Mulder, she'd make a sharp remark instead.  In her 
frustration, her remarks turned into sarcasm.  Soon she was 
responding to whatever he said with annoyance.  She was frustrated 
that she didn't know how to stop it.  They couldn't work this 
way.  He'd be asking her to leave any time now.  Then it would 
be all over.

Scully turned over in her bed again, trying one more time to make 
her pillow comfortable.  That's when she heard the knock.  She 
froze.  This was it.  He didn't want a scene at the office.  So 
he came here to tell her.  It occurred to her if she didn't let 
him in he might use his key.  She'd rather have it on her terms, 
that would give her some control.  That thought got her moving 
again.  She  hurried to the door to let him in.  

As Scully peeked through the peephole and saw Mulder standing 
there, the annoyed attitude that she had recently adopted slid 
over her like a garment.  She opened the door and paused, just 
looking at him a moment before she stepped aside and waved him 
in.

When Scully opened the door and just stood there, Mulder wondered 
if perhaps she wouldn't even let him in.  He took in the 
expression on her face as she finally waved him in.  She wasn't 
going to make this easy.  

Mulder walked into the living room, strode over to the window as 
if searching outside for something, then turned and looked at 
Scully.  She was standing at the entrance to the livingroom, 
waiting, with her arms crossed over her chest.  Mulder took in 
her defensive posture, then crossed back over to her.  He stopped 
in front of her and opened his mouth, but nothing came out.  He 
closed it again.  He didn't know how to start.  He wanted to know 
if she was going to ask for a transfer, but he didn't want it to 
sound like a suggestion.  

He paced to the window and back, trying to get his thoughts 
together.  He stopped in front of Scully again and looked at her, 
waiting, not knowing what to say.  She raised her eyebrow in 
inquiry, still not speaking.  When he still didn't say anything, 
she told him, "I'm going back to sleep.  Let me know when you 
figure out what you want to say."  With that, she retreated to 
her bedroom.

Scully curled under her covers and buried her head in her 
pillow.  She knew she had only said that to make him feel guilty 
for waking her up.  He didn't need to know she'd been lying 
awake thinking about him.  Yeah, right.  Like he really needed 
to feel guilty about something else?  She knew what he'd come to 
say.  But she couldn't bear to hear him say it.  So she'd run 
away, trying to put it off for a few minutes at least.  It eased 
the pain a little to know it wasn't easy for him to ask her to 
leave.  She buried her tears in the pillow.

Mulder stared at Scully's back as she hurried away from him down 
the hall to her bedroom.  Then he went over and sat on the sofa, 
burying his face in his hands.  Alright, he was here.  He had an 
unexpected reprieve, but he still had to find out what Scully was 
going to do.  It wouldn't make it any easier if he put it off.    

He got up, feeling drained.  He walked slowly down the hall 
feeling like he was going to his execution.  The door was 
slightly opened, and he stopped to get a breath and strengthen 
his resolve.  A slight noise startled him.  It was a muffled 
sob.  His own concerns were immediately forgotten.  Dana Scully 
did not cry.  She had only cried a couple of times as long as he 
had known her, once after Donny Pfaster.  He shook his head.  Of 
course she wouldn't want to stay in this crazy division!  He was 
selfish for wanting her to.

Mulder slid his shoes off and spooned up behind Scully on the 
covers.  He put his arms around her in a gentle hug, whispering 
softly into her hair.  "Shh. . .it's alright. It's alright."  

Scully gasped and held her breath as she felt Mulder climb up 
on the bed.  She didn't want him to know!  But he knew.  As he 
held her she realized that somehow he knew, and he didn't mind.  
She turned in his arms and buried her face in his shirt.  Mulder 
just held her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, soothing 
her.  She was letting him hold her, comfort her.  It told him 
all he needed to know.

She still hadn't said anything about that kiss; neither had he.  
He hadn't talked to her about the fight today, or explained why 
he had come here tonight.  She hadn't explained herself either.  
Nothing was explained, but everything was changed.  No one had 
said anything, but they both understood.