From: Diana Williams Date: 19 Oct 1998 22:18:51 GMT Subject: NEW: Whenever I Remember Loving You (1/1) (V, PG Slash) Title: Whenever I Remember Loving You Author: Diana Williams Email Address: diwillia@mindspring.com Rating: PG - No bad words or sex, but central to the piece is a relationship between two men. Category: V, A Keywords: Mulder/Skinner romance, Mulder/Scully Angst Spoilers: None Archive: Yes, anywhere. Distribution: Fine, just keep my name attached. Feedback: Always welcome, good or bad. Summary: Mulder reflects on his relationship with Skinner. Author's Note: Companion piece to "His Safe Place From the Storm". The feelings expressed by Mulder regarding his relationships are solely the thoughts of Mulder in *this* incarnation and do not necessarily reflect the views of the author on any future romance. Disclaimer: The X-Files and its characters belong to Chris Carter and 1013 Productions. The quotes at the beginning and end are from "Whenever I Remember Loving You" by Michael Bolton and Gary Burr. Whenever I Remember Loving You "When the rain is fallin' and I'm overcome With the doubts and demons of a love undone No voice need tell me that you were the one. Oh I'll remember all my life A love that set me free. Whatever comes of you and I, I will still believe That once upon a time a dream came true Whenever I remember loving you." He looks so different when he is asleep. Younger, vulnerable, gentler. A Walter Skinner that few others have seen. That few are permitted to see. That I have been privileged to see. I lay propped up on one elbow, studying him in the early morning light and I find myself wondering what he was like as a boy. Did he drive his mother crazy by bringing home strays and wounded animals? I can picture him, an earnest young boy with an injured bird carefully cradled in those large, gentle hands. Taking in stray cats. As he has taken in a wounded fox. Yesterday was the anniversary of the day that They took her away from me. Correction: the first time they took her away from me. They have been taking her away, again and again, in pieces ever since then. I don't know which hurts more - the physical loss of her or the daily loss of her faith and trust in me. Both. Both hurt like hell. We don't talk about it. I don't know if it would help if we did. I know what she believes, what she has believed since Kritschgau. If she didn't believe that this was my fault before she does now. Her abduction. Her sister's death. Her cancer. All laid at the doorstep of Fox Mulder's quixotic Quest for the Truth. I sat outside her apartment for hours last night, watching, hearing over and over in an endless loop her call for help so many years ago. A dozen times I picked up the phone to call her, to reassure myself that she is okay. A dozen times I thought of getting out of the car and going to her door with some lame excuse, just to see that she is here, that she is safe. And I know what I would hear, what I would see - that irritated look on her face, that impatient tone in her voice - "I'm fine, Mulder". She is not fine. Neither am I. And we cannot heal each other's pain. And so I showed up on his doorstep. And he took me in, grouching at me about my wet clothes. I love his growl; it is a warm blanket of love, and he wraps it around me. No questions, no armchair psychoanalysis, no need to hide myself from him. Here I am welcomed, accepted, cherished. No strings attached. Ah, Walter, how did you know that the way to capture my heart was to let me be free? He knows why I am here. He knows that I will be gone in the morning. And he knows that one day I will no longer show up on his doorstep, seeking food and comfort like a stray cat. It does not matter to him; he continues to take me in and take me to his bed. And I, selfish bastard that I am, keep taking what he has to offer without anything to give him in return. What *does* he get out of this? There is the sex, of course, the best sex of my life. The best sex of his life? I don't know, I don't ask; I don't have the right to ask. A stray cat does not ask its current protector if he is the best cat to have ever taken refuge there. Despite rumors to the contrary, I was brought up with proper manners. Is there a future for us? A little house in the suburbs? *Please.* Even I am not delusional enough to fantasize that, and he has always had his feet firmly on the ground. Whatever we have is here and now. It is enough for me. Is it enough for him? I find myself fervently hoping that it is, that he finds some joy in the here-and-now that will balance out the future pain. I slip quietly out of bed and retrieve my clothes from the dryer, dressing quickly in the early morning stillness. I am careful not to overstay my welcome. And if I occasionally fantasize about lazy weekend mornings in bed and shared showers, well, I can dream, can't I? No harm in that. I open the front door and step outside. The storm has passed and the coming day looks like it will be a beautiful one. I find myself humming as I walk down the sidewalk to where I parked my car. And I find myself thinking about the jacket I left hanging in his hall closet. Will he understand the meaning behind that? I love you, Walter. I will be back. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - "It's not that I don't feel the pain as deep as pain can be But I will not be denied the light Your love has brought to me. What you've given me will last forever I refuse to lose the treasure Of you inside my heart eternally. I'll always feel the love we once knew As long as I remember loving you."