Maybe I'm Amazed

by Shannon O'Connor

TITLE: Maybe I'm Amazed
AUTHOR: Shannon O'Connor
FEEDBACK: To shannono@iname.com
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Mulder answers Scully's biggest question following the events of the movie. (Companion piece to "Take A Bow.")
COMMENTS: You know how it is when you're sitting in your car, or maybe your office, or even just your house, and you hear a song you've heard a hundred times before, but suddenly you hear the words, like you've never noticed them before, and everything clicks ... Anyway, that's what happened to me with this. I probably should have made this connection sooner, but I think it was the movie that did it. They should have been playing this song in the background during the hallway scene, let's just put it that way. And I certainly do seem to have gotten a lot of Mulder first person ideas out of that movie, haven't I?
DEMENTED THOUGHT OF THE DAY: You know you're overly obsessed when ... you choose your brand of pasta because it's called "SKINNER"!
DISCLAIMER: Mulder, Scully, and their stories belong to Fox, 1013, and Chris, not me. "Maybe I'm Amazed" belongs to Paul McCartney.

*********
Maybe I'm Amazed
By Shannon O'Connor

*********

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you love me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I love you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you pulled me out of time
And hung me on a line
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you

**********

"Why?"

Finally, she asks the question. The one I've been both anticipating and dreading for the past two weeks, three days, eight hours, and thirty-three minutes, give or take a second or two.

There's no need for more words. I know exactly what she's asking. And I knew it was coming. I've considered and discarded several dozen responses already.

And I keep coming back to one.

The truth.

"Why?" she asks. It's a single word, overloaded with hundreds of meanings, submeanings, nuances, and phrasings. But three primary ones stand out.

Why did you tell me?

Why didn't you tell me sooner?

And why do you need me?

She's just sitting now, half in shadow at the far end of my couch. Waiting. She's giving me time to wrestle with myself, fight my demons, form my words. She wants me to be sure when I speak, not hem and haw and stutter and grind to a halt, as I tend to when I'm not rattling off some half-loony idea.

Although, now that I think of it, what's going on with us could be labeled a "half-loony idea." That's if what's going on is what I think is going on.

Did that make any sense whatsoever?

Anyway. Back to the task at hand.

Answering her question.

I consider. Why did I tell her when I did? Well, that's easy. To start with, she was leaving me. Not leaving the Bureau, although she was, but leaving *me*.

That may not have been the reality, but that's the way I saw it in those moments.

But that's not the main reason. I had to tell her, because of what she said to me.

She said I didn't need her.

Bullshit.

I need her like I need air.

**********

Maybe I'm a man and maybe I'm a lonely man
Who's in the middle of something
That he doesn't really understand
Maybe I'm a man and maybe you're the only woman
Who could ever help me
Baby won't you help me understand

**********

Okay, so first question answered. Now: Why didn't I tell her sooner?

Well, I've made a few attempts. Hell, I told her that first year, more than once, and not just in work- related terms, either. A dim surveillance room comes to mind, trying to explain to her why I stayed on the most boring assignment I'd ever had to suffer through.

"I still have you," I said.

Yeah, I sandwiched her between my work and myself, but that was just my protective reflexes kicking in. I should have listed her first. That would have been the whole truth, even then.

But why did I wait until *that moment* two weeks ago to spell the whole thing out for her, instead of doing it years ago, when I really should have?

Self-preservation springs to mind. I've had a hard enough time keeping my hands off her for over five years. I knew what I'd do if I told her and she reacted the way she did.

I'd do exactly what I *did* do. And I had myself convinced I'd end up on the floor, groaning not in pleasure but in pain.

Yeah, I'm scared of her. Anyone with a grain of intelligence would be. She's one tough woman.

And I mean that in the best way.

But the truth is, I realized a long time ago that Scully's the only person who can truly understand me, even if it's only sometimes. I did tell her *that* not so long ago, even though I was strapped to a hospital bed in the psych ward at the time.

The last thing I wanted to do was jeopardize what we already had. So I just avoided the issue and hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Now, it has.

**********

Maybe I'm amazed at the way you're with me all the time
Maybe I'm afraid of the way I leave you
Maybe I'm amazed at the way you help me sing my song
You right me when I'm wrong
Maybe I'm amazed at the way I really need you

**********

Okay, question number three: Why, exactly, do I need her?

Well, I was hoping my little speech would have answered that question, but I guess I'll have to go into more detail.

That couple of minutes or so in my apartment and the hallway outside was probably the longest the two of us have talked, really talked, on such a personal level. No jokes, no innuendo, just pure emotion.

And I'm about to break our record. I just know it. What I have to say won't fit in fewer words.

Finally, I think I'm ready to speak. Hope my voice doesn't fail me.

"I told you, Scully," I start, barely above a whisper, "because we both needed to hear it. I've known it for a long time, even though I try not to think about it. I haven't said anything before because I was afraid ... hell, I'm *still* afraid ... that if you knew just how much I depended on you, you'd be uncomfortable with it, and you'd pull away. And I couldn't stand that."

I pause, not long enough for her to speak, and then I say, my voice stronger: "But I need you, Scully, because you're the only person I trust, the only person I know will stand by me even when you don't know why I do the things I do. You're the only person I can count on to be there with me whenever I need you, even when I ditch you or scare you or argue with you. You know exactly what to do and to say to keep me from going too far, or not far enough. I'm a loose cannon on my own, Scully, and I know it. You keep me grounded without tying me down, and you are the only reason I have to keep going. Without you, Scully, I'm no good to anyone. If they'd never sent you to me, I'd either be a full-time resident of a mental hospital by now, or dead because of my own stupidity."

I pause again, trying not to notice the tears on her cheeks, or on mine, and finish in a whisper. "I told you, Scully, that you make me a whole person. And it's true. You're my other half, Scully. Yin and yang. No matter what else happens, or doesn't happen, between us, that's not going to change. It can't. Because I can't do it alone."

I'm about talked out. I think I've used up my recommended annual allowance.

But like the last time, this needed to be said.

And there's one more thing.

"I'm just amazed that you're still here, Scully. That someone like you could actually care enough about someone like me to stand by me through everything. I know I don't deserve it. But I can never tell you how much it means to me."

Then I let the silence fall, broken only by our ragged breathing and the sounds of cars passing by outside. I wonder, idly, if I should just move on now, offer her something to drink, turn on the TV.

And then a small hand snakes across the cushions toward mine, taking it in a fierce grip. I have the impression that her fingers have completely engulfed mine, no matter how physically impossible that is.

Just having those five tiny, capable fingers wrapped around my long, clumsy ones is enough to make me feel cocooned in warmth and joy.

Then she tugs, pulling me toward her as she slides in my direction. I'm afraid to look into those eyes, frightened that I'll see pity, or sadness, or pain, or anything that would ruin this perfect moment of just holding her hand.

But she pulls insistently until we're inches apart, side by side now, and then she turns in toward me, moving her free hand up to latch onto my shoulder. Her face moves against my chest, and I realize, as I lift my arm to rest along her waist, that she's planting tiny kisses across my shoulders and toward my neck.

God.

And then her small head lifts until her full lips are millimeters away from my ear, and she says two words:

"Thank you."

Then her head lowers back to my shoulder, and she wraps her arm around my waist.

And she holds me.

**********END**********

"If I quit now, they win." -- Mulder AND Scully, "XFFTF"

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