Functions. Awards
dinners. Dances - I hate the damned things. But a couple
of times a year, I have to put in an appearance and act
like a reasonably sociable human being. It's one of the
things about a G-man's life that they don't tell you
about at the Academy... although they should. I think
these things are just about as hazardous as some of the
cases I've been on.
So I've done my usual
thing; I've come along just enough after the hour to slip
in quietly. 'Fashionably late,' Scully calls it, and
teases me. She always teases me about these things, but
they're easy for her. She always looks wonderful and her
dance card's always full. She actually enjoys this stuff.
I've been thinking
about her all day long, letting my mind wander, wondering
what she'll wear, how she'll do her hair... Things I
don't usually let myself think about. I make my way
around the room to the bar and get myself a tequila
sunrise. I'm not much of a drinker, but a few sunrises
really do make the ordeal more bearable.
A touch on my arm - I
turn, and involuntarily catch my breath at the sight of
her. She's wearing a long, sleek, dark, strapless evening
dress; it hugs her curves the way I wish I could, sweeps
along her hips to trail at her feet just the way my heart
does. She tilts her head, smiling bemusedly up at me, and
I realize how I've been staring. "Hey," I say,
just to say something. Anything. She laughs as she takes
up her glass of white wine.
"Well, I guess the
dress works," she says lightly.
"It's
beautiful," I say. "I mean, on you." I've
just never been good at this, especially when it's
important. I wonder for the thousandth time why it's so
much easier to talk to her about work.
Just then Jeff White
comes up behind her and leans right over her shoulder.
"Agent Scully - Dana," he says. "You look
lovely tonight. That shade of green sets off your hair so
beautifully." The unfairness of it slaps me right in
the face. I could've said something smooth like that if I
could even tell that the dress was green.
I think she even
blushes a little. "Shall we dance?" he asks
her, and she smiles at him. She's so beautiful when she
smiles. I wish I could make her smile more often.
"Why, certainly," she answers him, and says,
"I'll be back, Mulder," over her shoulder as
she turns away.
"See you,
Spook," White says, taking her arm. 'Spook.' Great.
They've got me down to one syllable now.
I guess I've known for
a long time now that she doesn't love me the way I love
her. Oh, she loves me; it's not that she doesn't. But I
don't think she lies awake at night wishing I was beside
her, wishing I was holding her, kissing her... loving
her. I used to dream it would happen, but now I hardly
even bother. I don't mind it so much anymore; I guess I'm
resigned to it... funny, considering how I have so much
trouble resigning myself to anything else.
She *must* love me, I
decide again as I remember how, time after time, she's
put up with me and my pigheaded, stubborn pursuit of some
or other truth. She picks herself up and follows me, time
after time, and time after time I've refused to see how
miserable I'm making things for her. I only seem to see
it after it's too late, and I try to make up for it, but
by that time, what more can I do? The damage is done.
And the times she's
been taken from me - those were the worst. Every time I
think she's gone away, there's only one thing, at the
bottom of it all, left on my mind. I remember the times
I've been able to hold her, and I think about her pretty
face, my arms around her tight... I'd vow that when (I
never thought 'if,' I never dared) she came back I'd do
things differently. And somehow nothing ever changes
enough. I want it to change; *I* want to change, and when
everything's back I throw it away again. I take it all
back, and I throw it away.
What a morose bastard I am. I'd
better go and get another sunrise before I start feeling
sorry for myself in public.
I am striking a studiedly casual
pose at the bar when a tall, leggy blonde steps up beside
me. "Agent Mulder," she purrs, smiling.
"Gina." From
Terrorist Activities - the department, you understand;
not personally. We've exchanged pleasantries from time to
time when our paths have crossed on a few cases, but
nothing more. She's obviously pleased that I've
remembered her name. It's not so much that I'm attracted
to her - it's this damned eidetic memory.
She must be a brave
woman - she's been with the Bureau long enough to know
I'm poison to the career - hell, to the *life* - of the
people who get involved with me. The Mulder Curse. Ha.
Not even funny. But still she twines one sinuous,
gold-braceleted arm through mine. Must be the lure of the
forbidden, and all that. "Dance with me, Fox,"
she says.
'Fox.' How could she
know? "Okay," I say, and let her lead me onto
the floor.
Apparently, by dancing
with Gina I've given off some sort of signal that I'm
safe, because after that dance is over I find I have no
shortage of partners. Maybe this isn't so bad after all.
Maybe all you have to do is lighten up a little. I almost
start to wonder what would happen if I applied that kind
of attitude to other parts of my life, but I can't decide
if it's insight, or just the tequila.
I'm dancing with a
little brunette named Anita when I look up and all at
once see Scully from across the floor. Who is that guy
she's dancing with? They're right under one of the
lights, and she throws her head back, and laughs. Just
the sight of her takes my breath away again. She is
radiant. She's the loveliest thing I've ever seen. How
have I let so much time go by, and not even danced with
her once? I lean over to Anita and excuse myself and make
my way across the room to Scully.
I tap the
partner-of-the-moment on the shoulder. "Pardon
me," I say, "but I have to cut in." He
glances from me to Scully, but she's already let go of
his arm and turned toward me, so he steps back and fades
into the crowd.
I know I'm grinning,
and I hope I don't look too foolish, but I can't help it.
She puts her hand into mine, and I rest my other hand
lightly on the small of her back, and we begin to dance.
"Mulder," she
says, "I thought you were never going to come and
get me. You had your own little harem over there."
I shake my head.
"One dance, Scully, and they all came out of the
woodwork. I can't explain it."
She chuckles.
"You'll end up with a reputation."
"They're my
specialty, you know."
The time passes so
quickly - soon it's later than I'd thought. The band is
winding things down. All of a sudden it's the last dance,
and I know it'll be a slow song, a romantic song. I wait
for Scully to step back, but she doesn't; one hand stays
in mine, the other waits on my shoulder. The lights dim a
little further. Before I even know what I'm doing, I've
slipped my arm further around her waist. But she doesn't
pull away - she eases closer, and settles her head softly
against my chest. I let her hand go, and lay my own
gently on her hair, and I can feel her sigh as she puts
her arm around me and leans into me.
In the half-light I
bend my head down and kiss her hair, and then I just stay
there, with my face against her hair, stroking it softly
with my hand, cradling her against me. We're swaying
slowly in time with the music, but I'm not even sure you
can call this dancing. ...I hope it's a long, long song.
I kiss the top of her head again and her arm tightens
around me.
I've waited for her all
my life, I think, my face buried in her soft,
sweet-smelling hair. Once I'd thought it would turn out
differently for us, and for a long time I was bitter when
it didn't, but tonight it's all right - it's enough. It's
enough to hold her like this, enough just to see her like
this... Anything I've lost, whatever I've given up - now
I know it doesn't matter. Now I know that I would give up
everything to see her in this light.
The music is over. I
hold onto her for a moment longer than I really have to.
She doesn't make a move away from me, but when I let her
go she looks up at me with a kind of sad, quizzical
expression. Her eyes are asking the question I know her
lips will never form.
I just shake my head
and smile down at her. "It's just that it's so
nice," I say, explaining. "I can't believe how
wonderful it is to be with you, to see you like this - in
your evening dress, tonight." And I lean down and
drop one soft kiss onto her forehead before I turn and
walk away.
