|Anything For You, Scully
Author: TB's LMC PM
Every now and then an ep will inspire me to do a sort of "finish-the-scene" thing, which is what I did with And She Cried. This is the sequel to that story...what happens when Scully and Mulder wake up.Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Hurt/Comfort - D. Scully & F. Mulder - Chapters: 2 - Words: 5,502 - Reviews: 7 - Favs: 10 - Follows: 3 - Updated: 06-10-11 - Published: 06-09-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7065583
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Spoilers: Milagro, XFFTF, and minor for other eps.
Summary: Every now and then an ep will inspire me to do a sort of "finish-the-scene" thing, which is what I did with And She Cried. This is the sequel to that story...what happens when Scully and Mulder wake up.
Author's Note: I hope those of you who asked for a sequel like this. Posted in late April, 1999 to Gossamer. Posted here for the first time.
ANYTHING FOR YOU, SCULLY
How could she describe the feeling that swelled within her breast as she awakened in fear, only to realize that there was nothing to be afraid of because he was there with her, protecting her from those who would seek to do her harm? Indeed, were there words in any language on any world that could have given voice to that which she felt as the first rays of sun filtered through her windows?
Dana Scully couldn't think of one.
She yawned as she pried her eyelids open. Having cried for so long the night before, they were puffy and swollen almost shut. I must look positively gorgeous, she thought, wiping sleepers from the corners of her eyes.
Her movement awakened her companion. His eyelids fluttered open, vision at first unfocused, as the past day's events came flooding back to him in a torrent of raging anger and fear.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked into his hazel eyes, now glittering with the power of full consciousness behind them. "Hi." she said sheepishly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her perfect mouth.
He was not only happy to see her alive, but happy also that she was in his arms warm, breathing and smiling. He didn't notice her swollen eyelids, didn't notice the red rims around her eyes, didn't notice they were bloodshot. Even if he had, it wouldn't have mattered. His arms had stayed wrapped around her all through the night, and he now used their position to his advantage as he hugged her tightly.
"Scully," he breathed.
She reveled in the feel of waking up with someone close to you, someone who was glad to see you, someone who wanted nothing more than to hold you near to him first thing in the morning. Never had she felt this, never had she experienced morning love. Right now, at this very moment, they were no one and everyone all at once. There were no badges, no guns, no shadow governments, conspiracies or aliens. There was no FBI, no protocol, no heart-stealing figment of a writer's imagination.
All that existed was a man named Fox and a woman named Dana who could not get past the joy of finding themselves together after a most harrowing experience. She brought her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder, her mouth touching the tanned skin between his ear and collarbone. She wasn't doing it on purpose, but it brought a further feeling of closeness, of oneness, and neither wanted it to end.
Of course, Dana knew there was much she needed to say to this man, so many things to tell him, so very much to explain. And, if his behavior yesterday and at this moment were any indication, he might have a thing or two to say to her as well. But not now. Not yet. Nothing that would destroy or detract from this enchanted moment when two souls drank in the comfort given freely by both, when they basked in the glow of an unspoken bond of trust, friendship, forgiveness, caring and above all, love. Many long moments passed in silence as Dana longed to feel comfortably secure, trying fervently to push away the haunting images which insisted upon invading her memory.
"Thank you," she mumbled into his neck.
His voice cracked with emotion as he responded, "Anything for you, Scully."
Once again she lifted her head from his shoulder to meet his gaze. He was silently begging for answers, asking all the questions with his eyes that plagued his heart, wanting to know every detail so that he, in true Mulder fashion, could share every bit of pain she felt. He would not feel justified in comforting her unless he could hurt as much as she had hurt...hurt with her and hurt for her. Mulder was no masochist, but he had an insane desire to feel everything she felt, to discover every tiny thing there was within her, to know what was in her mind and in her heart.
Slowly his hand cupped her face. Their eyes never broke contact. Suddenly, both were hit with a vivid flashback to a time last summer in Mulder's apartment building. In the hallway outside Number 42. Fox's other hand, seemingly of its own volition, cupped the other side of her face as he mimicked the scene his mind replayed for him. Dana's eyes brimmed with pools of tears, much against her own will, as she, too, became lost in the memory of what almost happened...of what should have happened that day.
Once again, the Syndicate had taken something special from her and Mulder. Of course, the fact that the infected bee hadn't fallen away from her clothing as they'd run out of the giant beehive had not been planned by anyone. It had been a stroke of luck for the Consortium, and almost the final moments for Dana Scully. Actually, it had been her death. If Mulder had not rescued her, and if he had not revived her when she stopped breathing in the corridor of the alien vessel, there would have been nothing more for Dana. At least, not on this Earth. Nonetheless, there was no question that the black-lunged bastard and his cronies were at the root of all the evils which plagued Fox Mulder and Dana Scully.
An involuntary shudder rippled through her body. She wondered vaguely if he was going to try and kiss her. To her own surprise, she found herself hoping that he would, but then chastised herself for her own foolishness. There was much for them to do prior to any kisses, or anything further for that matter, and Dana's rational mind knew that. Her body, however, yearned for nothing more than his touch. What to do?
Fox decided that for her. He could read her thoughts, almost as though he were telepathic. Pulling her face to his, placing his lips upon her forehead, letting them linger there long enough to let her know he was acquiescing to that which he knew she felt...that he, too, shared her concerns and trepidation.
She struggled to her feet when at last he released his physical hold on her. But the hold he had on Dana Scully's inner self was one which he did not wish to relinquish, and one which she did not wish to lose. She wanted it there as much as she wanted to take her next breath. She blushed as she pulled her robe tighter around her body, not having noticed until just now that it had
fallen slightly open to reveal the swell of her breasts.
"I'll make coffee," she said softly.
He nodded as he rose to his feet. "Mind if I use your shower?" he asked as he followed her into the kitchen.
"No, of course not. You know where everything is. I'll get some of your clothes and leave them on the counter."
He was thanking her? It most definitely should be the other way around. It momentarily struck her as funny that Mulder should have clothes here, but over the years, she'd acquired a few pair of his jeans, several of his t-shirts and sweatshirts, and even a full-blown suit, tie and shoes included. She couldn't remember how any one of the items had come to be in her walk-in closet, but she had washed and neatly folded them all and placed them in their own two cubbyholes. She blushed again as she remembered that she also was in possession of a few pairs of his boxers. As she shuffled back to her bedroom, she let out an involuntary laugh when she thought of the design on one pair...they were lime green, a most disgusting color, with Marvin Martian everywhere in different poses.
She decided to give him those Marvin boxers, pulled out a pair of white socks (there weren't any black ones to be found), black jeans and a black mock turtleneck she'd forgotten was there. She knocked quietly at the bathroom door. She could hear the shower running. Not receiving an answer, Dana pushed the door open as steam came pouring out. She darted in and placed the clothing on the counter, as promised, and darted back out, closing the door tightly behind her.
Thankful that she had two showers and a strong hot water heater, Dana headed for the Master Bathroom. She closed the bedroom door and stood in front of her full-length mirror as her robe slipped from her slim body into a crumpled heap at her feet. At first glance, she could've sworn she saw four fingerprint indentations on her chest, right over the spot where her heart rested beneath her ribcage. However, upon further inspection, she found that image to be only in her mind. She let out a sigh of relief as she picked up her robe and entered the bathroom. She didn't close the door. She knew Mulder wouldn't barge in uninvited and besides, she'd already closed her bedroom door.
Mulder emerged from the shower and toweled his hair dry. As he wiped the water from his body, he saw the Marvin Martian boxers Dana had left for him and laughed out loud. He wondered if she found them as amusing as he did. He pulled all his clothes on, hung up the towel and exited the bathroom. He could hear the faint sounds of her shower running down the hall, so he poured a cup of black coffee and seated himself at her kitchen table. His stomach grumbled, but he refused to eat until he could see her again. He had no right satisfying his own hunger until he knew his Scully had everything she needed.
She luxuriated in letting the scalding hot water pour over her body, allowing it to cleanse both her skin and her spirit. When at last she turned the water off, she felt rejuvenated and ready to face both Mulder and the endless questioning she knew she'd be subjected to by the FBI. Scully barely gave a thought to her clothes. Where normally she was so very picky about the crisp business attire she wore, today she cared not a fig for formality or work suits. No, today she needed to be comfortable. It would be a long day, and an even longer night.
So Dana chose a pair of black jeans, forgetting she'd chosen the same for Mulder. She grabbed a black turtleneck from the back of her closet, forgetting she'd taken out almost the same article of clothing for him. White socks were slipped over her delicate feet, and soon she was ready to face the day.
Very few words were spoken between Mulder and Scully as they drank their coffee and ate their toasted bagels with cream cheese. All too soon their time of solitude and aloneness had to end. They got into her car and rode to FBI Headquarters in silence. Dana was trying to sort out her thoughts and put everything in logical order, so that she could recall as many details for Skinner as possible. She was grateful it would be he who took her statement. She knew, as did Mulder, that Assistant Director Walter Skinner would have it no other way.
For his part, Mulder couldn't help but be very worried about his partner. He'd hoped for the chance to hear everything from her without others present, but in a way he understood her reluctance to rehash the events twice unnecessarily. He would be there when she gave her statement to their superior...there wasn't even a thought given to that fact. It was implied. They were always there for each other. Ever since the Antarctica incident, they hadn't allowed anyone to separate them in trying situations, and this would be no different. FBI regulations be damned.
Scully would tell her story to Skinner, with Kimberly taking detailed notes, while Mulder sat nearby, offering his silent support as well as listening intently to every word that came from her mouth. If he knew his Scully...and indeed he did...she would not break down today. If there were to be more tears shed, it would be done privately. He hoped he would be there for that as well. He didn't want her going through one single step of this healing process alone. This time he wasn't just going to give her a hug and a sympathetic look and then walk away to continue chasing his little green men. Fox Mulder had made the startling discovery sometime between last night and this morning that for once in his life there was someone who was far more important to him than what he now laughingly called his "Quest".
They arrived at the J. Edgar Hoover building. He parked the car in the garage. Silently they walked shoulder-to-shoulder to the elevator and entered. It rose and rose, finally coming to a stop. Mulder looked down at Scully, Scully looked up at Mulder. Her mouth was set in a straight line in grim determination. His somber look told her that he knew she could do it. The doors hissed open and they purposefully strode as one into the outer office of the Assistant Director, where Kimberly rose to her feet to greet them, a sad smile on her face.
"Special Agent Mulder, Special Agent Scully, Assistant Director Skinner is expecting you. Go right in."
They nodded to her in one fluid motion of their heads and headed for the door leading to Skinner's inner sanctum. Mulder opened the door. Scully walked in and stopped, waiting the milliseconds it took for Mulder to walk in and close the door behind him. Together they made their way to the two chairs in front of the desk.
Skinner watched them enter and seat themselves, the oneness of their every movement as obvious to him as the fact that they were dressed identically, right down to the white Nike tennis shoes on all four feet. He'd always known of their strange unity, but it struck him now as more solid and outwardly noticeable than before. He wondered if Scully had already told Mulder everything, or if he would be hearing it here and now for the first time as well.
"Agents," he greeted them, coolly keeping his emotional and physical distance.
"Sir," they replied.
"Are we ready to begin?"
Scully nodded in the affirmative.
Skinner buzzed for Kimberly, who entered with her notepad and a fistful of pencils. She took a seat in the far corner of the room, at a small desk which was especially for her. She nodded to her boss that she was ready to go.
The first hour was merely a setup scenario. Both Mulder and Scully filled Skinner in on the details of Mulder's ex-neighbor, Philip Padgett. But then their tales diverged. Mulder explained what he'd done up until the point where he entered his apartment to find Scully laying on the floor in her own blood. He kept his voice monotonistic, giving no glimpse of his own personal feelings over his discovery of what he'd thought at first was a dead Agent Scully. Skinner admired his composure, but admired that of his other agent's even more. Did she always buck up and take everything like a man?
She certainly hadn't last night.
Finally it came time to hear what had happened to Dana Scully. She sat in silence for a moment as Kimberly and the men waited patiently for her to begin. Suddenly she stood, startling everyone.
"Sir, may I be excused for a moment?"
"Of course. Let's all take a fifteen minute break." Skinner rose to his feet as Scully exited with her partner right behind her.
The two walked quickly down the hall and turned the corner, at the end of which lay nothing but a utility closet. Scully suddenly stopped, almost causing Mulder to run over her. She leaned her back against the wall, blowing out a huge breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. She looked at Mulder, who studied her face intently.
"I'm fine, Mulder."
He frowned slightly.
"Really. I just needed a break. And the bathroom."
She flashed him a rare smile as she took the few necessary steps to the Ladies' Room. Mulder, too, exhaled loudly as he headed for the Mens' Room.
Minutes later, they met back in the out-of-the-way hall. Dana seemed fine, as she'd said only a short time before, but Fox placed his hand on her shoulder nonetheless. It was just as much for his own reassurance as it was for her. Touching her steadied and calmed him. She turned her determined face towards his.
"Let's go finish this, partner," she said.
He smiled and nodded. Somehow, when she said that word-partner-it held much more meaning than when anyone else used it. For both of them, that single seven-letter word held much more meaning than it ever possibly could for any other living being. That described them to a T. They were partners in everything. Well...almost everything.