From: Megan Kennedy Date: Sat, 10 Jul 1999 18:27:04 -0700 (PDT) Subject: Fanfic Title: Valentino's Eyes Author: Megan E. Kennedy Email address: mekamorph@yahoo.com Rating: PG Category: VRA Keywords: Mulder/Scully. Mulder/Scully friendship. Spoilers: None Summary: A contemplative look and the agent's relationship after the conspiracy goes public. Disclaimer: Ain't mine. Won't never be mine. The story and ts title were inspired by the song "All She Said" by Toad the Wet Sprocket. "Valentino's Eyes" by Megan E. Kennedy I woke up early, or late, however you phrase it. A street light outside illuminated the sheets of rainwater running down the hotel room's window, and its soft sigh filled the silent room comfortably. I remembered everything in great detail, the "incident," the running, the US Marshals who even now were guarding this hotel room and mine connecting to it. I remembered us. Scully was cradled in my arms, curled up against me like a cat whose quest for something warmer than herself had finally ended. The blankets trapped our body heat comfortably, even though the Nevada night outside was warmer than blood. I slid my arms out of her clasped hands, from underneath her side, and climbed out of bed. It was my clothes that were flung halfway across the room; hers were in a neat pile by the bedside. Always neat, my Scully. I found my underwear and flipped on a bedside lamp. She slept soundly through the disturbance. I should have gotten back in bed. It was the proper thing to do. I glanced at the sheeting rain, at the disconnected clock radio, at her delicate lady's watch sitting by it. It was the contemplative hour of night. Scully made a small noise and rolled onto her back, one arm cast onto the pillows, one laying across her stomach and the blankets. I wondered what she was dreaming about. Us? ...but that's pretty egocentric. She's a whole person without me. We don't pervade every aspect of each other's lives, at least we didn't, for protection. Because who knew when one of would be gone? It was a lie, a lie at least Scully believed, that we'd be together even unto death. But I had come too close to losing her to believe that. One of us would be alone. I'd supported that lie, thought, comforted her with it, even when she knew that words were cheap. They never mean what you do. But she'd still said that she loves me. And damn it, I said it back. I wondered again what she dreamt of. Something better, perhaps? The life she could have had? A life where she came home to a husband and children every night, instead of to danger, a dark hotel room, desperate sex with her mentally- frail partner? Or was she peaceful, dreaming of Rudolph Valentino kissing her gently and speaking words that never lied, never betrayed? Have I betrayed her? Or perhaps we, each other? We were partners, we were friends, did this now make us lovers? I knew the official line on such things, that they were to be done on your own time and certainly not with your partner, but weren't those written for normal people? We weren't normal people, we were being chased by half the Universe and protected by the rest, we had been moved eight times already and were probably going to be moved more. We had nothing to rely on but each other. Scully murmured in her sleep, too low and soft to hear. I could leave. I could wake her up, tell her I was going to get something from my room, sleep there. She would wake up to a cold bed and a cold room, and maybe she would cry. Maybe she would gird up her loins and we'd lose what little we had left to sustain us on our panic flight. Maybe she'd slap me. I'd woken up alone too many times myself to do it to her. I climbed back under the sheets, though the room was warm enough without them. It wasn't wrong, of course, but it wasn't quite right, either. I slipped my arms around her, switching off the lamp as I did so. Far away, in another night and place, Scully looked away from Valentino's eyes and whispered, "I love you, Mulder." That was all. In the morning, when the silver rain stopped at the glaring desert sun dried this place, we'd be moved. There would be another attempt on our lives, probably. Maybe one partially successful. And there was no end in sight; the State Department, the CIA, the FBI, the Justice Department, Congress, they all had a bone to pick with these proceedings before they could continue, before we could finally be safe. Scully, I thought as I drifted back to sleep, you don't know what you're saying.