One Week Later
Alexandria, VA
Thursday, 7:45 PM
Scully walked down the hall to Mulder's apartment. This was the
moment she'd both longed for and dreaded. They had to discuss what happened in Kentucky; previous to the rape and it's aftermath, she knew that. Mulder knew it, too. But they couldn't seem to get together. She'd called him everyday, but he refused to return her calls. She'd finally gotten up enough nerve to confront him.
She hadn't seen Mulder since they'd gotten back from Glasgow. Scully
had needed the time to herself; to think, to collect herself and her feelings. She was still coping with the consequence of the rape, but she had taken on the philosophy of "physician heal thyself." She hadn't told anyone, not even her mother. The only people who knew were Mulder and Skinner.
Slowly, Scully was coming to terms with the rape. But she was still worried that Mulder was disappointed in her and that that was the reason why he hadn't contacted her. The thoughts swirled inside her head as Scully knocked on the door to Mulder's apartment. After a moment with no answer, she knocked a little louder. Still no answer, so Scully got out her keys and entered the room.
She was completely unprepared for what she found. The room was
almost completely dark, save for the small desk lamp by the window. Scully could just barely make out Mulder's slumped form on the couch. "Mulder?"
He mumbled something, but Scully couldn't make out the words.
"Mulder, we need to talk . . . "
"Please leave," this time the message was loud and clear.
"Mulder don't shut me out," she moved to take his hand.
"Don't touch me. Just leave me alone."
Scully leaned over to turn on the lights. Mulder, for his part, tried to shrink back into the shadows, not looking at Scully's worried countenance.
"Mulder look at me. Please . . . " Scully's voice trailed off as he slowly raised his lashes.
She was shocked by the haunted look in her partner's eyes when they
finally glanced up and met her own. For a second, she couldn't speak, afraid her emotions would take control. As she looked at Mulder, tears she hoped he wouldn't see, began to form behind her eyes, threatening to slip down her cheeks and betray her poorly hidden feelings.
When Scully was, at last, able to speak, it was in a low, hushed tone,
"Mulder . . . " she looked again at Mulder's face. He looked like he'd aged ten years in the week since she'd last seen him. The worry lines splayed across his features, by his eyes, the corners of his mouth.
She leaned over to him, wanting smooth his gentle features. As her hands made contact with his brow, Scully felt her partner relax. While she continued, slowly she saw his walls break down; her actions touched a part of Mulder that had been precariously holding his own emotions in place. As her gentle caress unhurriedly made its way across his face, tears began to stream down it.
If his actions startled her, Scully didn't show it. She simply continued her touch therapy, occasionally wiping away his tears with her thumbs. After several long minutes, Scully decided to try to break the silence. Truth to be told, Mulder's ceaseless crying was starting to worry her.
Finally she met his eyes once again and quietly asked, "Mulder, what's
wrong? When you didn't return my phone calls, I got worried," she paused
waiting for a response. "I can't help you if you don't let me in." The tenderness and genuine caring in Scully's voice moved Mulder so much that the remaining control he had on his emotions slipped away. He didn't want her to see him like this. But his tears flowed freely and huge sobs wracked his body.
Scully reached across the remaining distance to her partner, gathering him in loving arms. For a moment, he resisted, and she understood why. It had been a long time since he'd allowed anyone this far into his world. Afraid for himself and those around him of what might happen if he got too close to them. As it was Scully knew the guilt he carried around inside of him for not being able to save Samantha when they were children.
With a start, it hit Scully. She understood Mulder's uncontrollable grief: It was the anniversary of Samantha's disappearance. Twenty-five years since she'd been taken away, inexplicably. And just last week when Scully herself was held hostage had been the anniversary of when she'd been returned, four years ago, with no explanation to the hospital in Georgetown. Perdoue's case must have triggered memories of Samantha's and her own abductions, Scully surmised.
Mulder tightened his embrace, he didn't want to let Scully go. For a brief moment, he'd thought she'd been abducted again when Krychek and Perdoue had held them hostage. After Antarctica, Mulder had vowed to himself that he wouldn't let Scully be taken from him again. "Didn't take too long to break that promise," he berated himself.
When Mulder had been forced to take medical leave, he'd had too much
time on his hands. The time had been spent mostly thinking about Scully and Samantha. They were so similar. Yet he didn't really know Samantha anymore, he only knew the little girl, not the woman she might have become. But all the same, they were the only two women he'd allowed himself to love.
Having to watch as Scully was raped had nearly undone him. Scully
had been hurt in so many ways because of him. He didn't know why she stayed, but he wasn't going to let his damn "mission" destroy the woman he'd fallen in love with.
Suddenly, he pushed Scully away. Brushing his tears away fiercely, he
said, "You should go, Scully."
"Mulder, why? We need to talk," she answered.
"About what? How I keep hurting you? About how I couldn't stop those men from raping you? About how I wasn't there when Duane Barry kidnapped you? WHAT do we need to TALK ABOUT?"
Scully was stunned at the fury she heard in Mulder's voice. Even more
shocking to her was the fact that Mulder's wrath seemed to be directed at
himself. "Does he think I blame him?" she thought.
Scully took his hand and held it tight while he continued his deliberate
avoidance of her eyes. "Mulder," she opened quietly, "Don't do this, to yourself, to us."
Mulder squeezed her hand. Scully took a deep breath before continuing.
"Mulder . . . I need you. I need your strength, your friendship, your
tenderness. I need you so much. Please don't push me away," here Scully broke, tears again rolling down her face.
Mulder heard her, but at first made no move to comfort her. Disappointed, Scully pulled her hand away and stood up. Mulder was up in a flash, drawing Scully back to him, so close she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke.
"Scully, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. When Perdoue and his cronies raped you, something inside me . . . just . . . died. It's because of me, it's my fault. If you . . ."
"No, Mulder. No. It's NOT your fault. Risking our lives is part of our jobs. And no matter what you think, you were not responsible for my rape," Scully lowered her voice, "If anything, I should have fought harder." She turned away, ashamed.
It was Mulder's turn to protest, "Scully, Perdoue did this to you. How
could you have fought off those men in the state you were in? You were still groggy from the drugs." Mulder put his arm around Scully's waist and tugged her to him. She stiffened at the unexpected contact and Mulder started to ease his grip. Scully turned around and pulled him into a tight embrace. Grateful that he hadn't done anything wrong, Mulder simply held her.
"Hey, Scully? I think between the two of us, we've finally realized that
we weren't in charge in that warehouse. We were held captive and there was little we could do about it. Now we know who actually was in charge when you were raped."
Scully nodded against his chest.
"I know I shouldn't go into psychologist mode right now, but I have to ask: Were you afraid that I was going to hurt you, Scully? You seemed to be so rigid when I put my arm around you."
"It was because I didn't know you were going to be so close. I wasn't
afraid of you, Mulder. I told you, I trust you not to hurt me," she said.
"Good," he said, gently brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "Good." Mulder was silent a moment before taking Scully's face in his hands.
"You know I love you, don't you, Scully?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Scully nodded again and answered, "I love you, too, Mulder."
He gave a reciprocal nod, acknowledging her admission. Mulder searched her eyes, then lowered his mouth to cover Scully's in a gentle, chaste kiss.
Scully shivered at the contact. As Mulder pulled away, his eyes asked
permission to continue. In answer Scully stood on tiptoes to plant a kiss of her own on the corner of Mulder's lips.
That was all the incentive he needed. Mulder pressed his lips to Scully's
in a fiery kiss. His tongue grazed her bottom lip and his hands began to roam over Scully's body. When Scully opened her mouth to Mulder's tongue, she was suddenly thrown back to the previous week and Perdoue.
"Wait, Mulder, stop," she asked.
"Scully, what is it?"
"I . . . I don't know if I can do this," she said.
Mulder was mentally whipping himself as he said, "God I'm sorry, Scully. I'm such an ass. We will do this on your time. I will wait as long as you need to."
Scully made a quick decision, "I can do this if we go slow."
"Scully, you don't have to do this . . . " he trailed off.
"I want to do this, Mulder. But . . . "
"But what?" he prompted.
"I need you to show me. I want to do this right," she explained shyly. "I don't know what to do."
"I can make this, our making love, good for you. If you're sure you want to."
"I want to."
"Do you trust me, Scully?"
"With my life."
"Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Close your eyes," he whispered.
Mulder began raining kisses over her face; her cheeks, her nose, her temple, her eyelids all received the same treatment. He stepped away for a moment and then said, "Open your eyes, Scully."
She looked at him, slightly bemused. Her expression changed as he tugged his grey t-shirt over his head.
"Mulder? I thought we were going slow?"
"Trust me."
Mulder captured Scully's mouth with his own and pulled her back to the
couch. They sat facing each other, still engrossed in the kiss. Mulder let his hands slide up and down Scully's back, going no further. Of her own volition, Scully began mimicking his actions.
"I think, Scully," Mulder said between kisses, "that you are wearing too
many clothes. Let's get rid of that sweater."
Useless to do anything else, Scully reached behind her to yank the sweater over her head.
"You are so beautiful, Scully," he breathed. He brought his hands
around to her breasts, testing their weight. He brushed his thumbs across her nipples, and Scully surprised herself by pushing into him, wanting more contact.
"May I?" he asked, his hands dancing around the clasp of her bra.
"Please."
With the unveiling, Mulder placed his mouth around one pink nubbin,
while rolling the other with his thumb and forefinger. "My God, Mulder. I didn't, I never imagined . . . "
"Shhh," he answered as he switched breasts.
Scully's hands hovered near the waistband of Mulder's faded jeans.
"Go ahead, Scully."
Scully touched him then, felt the length of him harden, heard him groan in response. She undid the button and zipper, pushed down his jeans and stopped when she saw the bulge in his boxers. Mulder took Scully's hand and placed it on top of his penis. Scully looked at him, confused.
"You look scared, Scully. Just get used to it, you can do whatever you
want. But if I ask you to stop . . . well, you're a doctor, you can figure that out for yourself," he grinned.
Scully returned the look, then turned her attention to the throbbing organ beneath her hand. She touched him, running her hands up and down. Then, reaching inside Mulder's boxers, she squeezed him lightly, raking her nails down the length of him to the tip.
"Time to stop, Scully," Mulder groaned. "I think it's my turn to play." He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom. Setting her down in a standing position, he said roughly, "Those need to go," pointing to her jeans.
Hesitantly, she began to pull them down. Placing a hand under her chin,
Mulder forced her to look at him.
"We can stop any time you want to," he said tenderly.
"I don't want to stop," she put her arms around him and squeezed him close. She wasn't surprised that Mulder was giving her a way to back out, even this late in the game. But she was nonetheless still pleased by it.
"Mulder, help me," she brought his hands to the front of her jeans. He
slowly smoothed the material down her legs. Stopping only to pull her shoes and sock along for the ride. He smiled when he saw the flowery, lacy panties Scully wore. So unlike her outward mannerisms, she was still a girl at heart. Carefully he removed those, too and lay her down on the bed. He slipped out of his boxers and stretched out beside her.
Mulder placed his hand on Scully's stomach. Gradually he moved it
down so that it rested in the nest of curls at the juncture of her thighs.
"Scully, spread your legs," he whispered into her ear, kissing her neck.
She complied, and felt his fingers slip between the folds of flesh he found there. Leisurely, he stroked her, creating a sensation that built in the pit of her stomach. Scully felt his other hand join the first. Two of these fingers hovered near the entrance to her body. They stroked on and on, until she felt Mulder slip a finger inside.
She gasped at the sensation, surprised at the pleasure she felt. The fire
in her grew, and she found that she could no longer contain her moans.
"That's right, Scully. I want you to come for me. That's it . . . " Mulder
trailed off as he mouth took over the work of some his fingers. He suckled at the nubbin of flesh that was her center and Scully began to cry out in earnest.
"Mulder, my God. Oh Mulder . . . "
Finally, she came, exploding into a thousand pieces and was reconstructed in Mulder's arms, who held her until she came back to Earth.
"You okay, Scully?" he asked.
"Never better. How 'bout you?" Scully could feel his erection pressing into her thigh.
"I'm fine. Could be better," Mulder responded, shakily. He wanted so
badly to be deep inside her, he didn't know if he could last, much longer.
"I think I know how to remedy the situation," Scully said with a smile.
Reaching between them, Scully took him in her hands and led him to her entrance.
"You're absolutely positive?"
"I love you, Mulder."
That was all he needed to help make the decision. Mulder eased inside of her, wanting to make sure she was comfortable. He began moving, slowly at first, and faster as Scully urged him on. Mulder had been so close before he was inside of Scully that he knew he wasn't going to last very long. Scully was amazed to find herself on the brink of another orgasm after only a few strokes.
"Oh, God, Mulder . . . I think . . . I'm gonna come again," She began to jerk her hips more erratically and sent Mulder tumbling over the edge along with her.
When he'd regained his breath, Mulder moved to take himself off of Scully.
"Don't go, Mulder."
"You sure I'm not crushing you?"
"I like having you this close to me, Mulder."
He pulled the blanket over them and rested his head on her chest. "I love you, Dana. And not just because of this . . . because we've made love. Because of who you are and what you mean to me. I meant what I said when I told you that you made me a whole person. Without you I would have been in a strait jacket or dead a long time ago. I just wanted to tell you . . . to thank you for . . . being my friend and staying with me."
Scully felt her eyes fill at Mulder's words.
"There's nowhere else I'd have been . . . Fox," she rolled his name around, testing how right it was to call him by his first name. Mulder, on the other hand, winced upon hearing his given name.
"It's only fair, Fox," Scully said, smiling. "I think we're close enough to
be on a first name basis."
"I suppose," sighed Mulder, dramatically. "But only when we're alone. And definitely not in the office," he cautioned.
"Fine. It's enough to be here with you, right now. And I will stay with
you, forever. I love you Fox Mulder."
Mulder spooned behind her, stroking her hair as she drifted off to sleep. The last thing Scully heard before she entered unconsciousness was Mulder's soft voice, "I love you, too, Dana Scully."