Ten Minutes Ago
By: Tess
E-mail: tnv099@aol.com
Distribution: I would like to know where
Spoilers: Requisite post-ep fic for Requiem
Rating: R
Content: SAR
Keywords: MSR
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters in this story (but one).
They, and the little bit of dialogue contained herein, belong to CC, 1013 and
Fox.
Okay I think this makes number 9 of the series of stories I've written
inspired by the works of Rodgers and Hammerstein.
Ten Minutes Ago
Ten minutes ago I saw you
I looked up when you came through the door
My head started reeling
You gave me the feeling
The room had no ceiling or floor
Ten minutes I go I met you
And we murmured our how-do-you-dos
I wanted to ring out the bells
And fling out my arms and to sing out the news
I have found her!
She's an angel
With the dust of the stars in her eyes
We are dancing, we are flying
And she's taking me back to the skies
In the arms of my love I'm flying
Over mountain and meadow and glen
And I like it so well
That for all I can tell
I may never come down again
I may never come down to earth again
Rodgers and Hammerstein - Cinderella
Ten Minutes Ago
By: Tess
I woke up to a darkened room. Mulder's cheek was still resting on my hair
and his body was wrapped tightly around my own. His hand, which I had pulled
close to my face earlier that night, cupped my cheek and I turned my head to
press my lips into his palm.
"What's the matter, Scully?" he whispered, stroking my hair with his free
hand. I rolled over, burying my face in his neck.
"Nothing," I murmured. "Why aren't you asleep?"
He groaned and rolled onto his back, pulling me along with him. "Can't
sleep," he said simply, rubbing a strand of my hair between his fingers. His
eyes were worried as they studied my face.
"I'm fi...I feel better," I amended. He smiled appreciatively at my
correction but his eyes were still worried. "Seriously," I reassured him.
"Mulder, I promise I feel much better than I did earlier."
His fingers continued to methodically worry at that strand of my hair and he
raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Strange," he said contemplatively.
"What's that?" I asked, curious.
"To be back here, in Bellefleur...we've come full circle, Scully."
"Well *some* things are different," I whispered as I pressed myself
suggestively against him.
"Not so different," he argued. "You show up at my door, shivering and afraid
and end up in my bed..."
"Yes, but this time, you're in the bed with me," I interrupt.
He grinned appreciatively. "There is that. Still, I half expected to see
you in that awful red bathrobe..." I grunt, remembering the bedraggled girl
who had raced to his room, scared out her mind over a few mosquito bites.
"Actually, I think I preferred the last time," he said.
Indignantly, I lifted my head from its comfortable resting-place on his chest.
"You were wearing a lot less back then Agent Scully."
I scrambled up and straddled him, knees on either side of his hips. I
crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. "You weren't even remotely
interested," I reminded him.
He reached up with one arm and brushed his thumb across my pouting lips.
"Not true, Scully," he denied. "Ten minutes after I met you, I wanted you,"
he told me.
"Liar."
"I would never lie to you Scully. I expected not to like you, but in a
matter of minutes, I was captivated. You intrigued me."
"Mulder, you were awful to me during that case," I protested.
"Because I didn't want to like you. I didn't want to trust you. I knew you
had been sent to spy on me, but something kept telling me that I had finally
found the person I could share my life, share my work with. I wanted to
shake you up, see what you were made of. Right from the start, I wanted
desperately for you to believe in me." He raised his knees behind me and I
slid forward, settling on his stomach.
"I do believe in you, Mulder."
He smiled and held my eyes captive with his own. He lifted his fingers to
the buttons on my shirt and his voice washed seductively over me as he freed
each tiny fastening from its hole.
"When you came to my room and dropped your robe...and I touched the soft skin
of your back...I wanted to press my lips over those bites; I wanted to turn
you and scatter kisses over your belly. I wanted to trail my lips over every
inch of your skin," his voice had dropped to a whisper as he pushed my shirt
off my shoulders and over my arms. He lifted his fingers to trail over the
tops of my breasts and I shivered at his touch. I trembled at his words.
"I wanted to bury my face in your breasts and rest there. I imagined how
soft the skin under your jaw was," he sat up against the headboard and
nuzzled his lips beneath my chin. "I wanted to skim my mouth over your
cheeks, take your earlobe between my teeth," his teeth nibbled lightly around
my earring. "I wanted to know what you tasted like," and he pressed his hands
against my spine, pulling me forward, capturing my mouth with his; rubbing
his lips over mine, teasing my lips open and plunging his tongue into my
mouth.
He pulled away and I swayed forward, my lips blindly seeking his and then the
low rumble of his voice swept over me again. "When you threw yourself into
my arms, I just wanted to comfort you. I wanted to take care of you and I
remember thinking 'this woman is going to be my best friend' and so I took a
chance and I told you about Samantha."
I gathered him in my arms and he rested his head on my shoulder.
"I thought you were crazy," I remembered, threading my fingers through his
hair. "But I was mesmerized by you. And even though I knew you were going
to shock me over and over again, I couldn't wait to hear what you had to say
next."
I leaned back and framed his face in my hands. "I love you, Mulder."
He kissed me lightly and then rose to his knees, pushing me onto my back and
following me down onto the mattress. We fumbled with our clothes and
finally, he stretched himself over me, pressed himself into me, and gave
himself to me.
********
"It has to end sometime and that time is now."
"Muld..."
"Scully, you have to understand--they're taking abductees. You are an
abductee. I'm not going to risk losing you."
I took a step toward him and wrapped myself in his arms. He needed me to
give in on this. He'd have no peace otherwise. He wasn't speaking to me as
my partner; he was speaking to me as my lover.
"I won't let you go alone," I said and I could feel the tension drain from
his body.
"Mulder, take me home."
*********
My apartment is bigger, brighter and generally more comfortable than
Mulder's. But his apartment is home for us. I don't know why. Maybe it's
because so many life-altering conversations; so many life-altering moments
have taken place there. It was there that he told me that I made him a whole
person. And again, it was in his apartment that he told me I was his
touchstone. I cradled him in my arms on his living room floor when his
mother died. It was in his bed that we made love for the first time.
Skinner was supposed to pick Mulder up at his apartment later that night for
the drive to the airport. Mulder quickly threw some clothes into a bag and
then turned to me. I was sitting on the bed, watching him pack with a
mounting sense of unease.
"I think we're making a mistake," I told him. "Maybe I should go with you."
Mulder pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, Scully."
"But I'm your partner!" I cried. "I belong there!"
"Skinner will be with me..." he began.
"How do we know we can trust him?" I asked heatedly. "I know you believe in
him Mulder, but I don't!"
Mulder tried to interrupt me but I shook him off. "I'm certain that he was
bugging our office last year. He knew too many things that no one should
have known."
Mulder pressed his hands onto my shoulders. "Scully. He tried to help me
when I was in the hospital. I could sense that he wanted to do more but that
he didn't have a choice. You know what those things inside of him are
capable of doing to him!"
"How do we know he isn't being controlled by them right now?" I demanded.
He just stared at me patiently and I wilted, almost but not quite ready to
concede defeat. "I just don't like being the little woman left behind while
the big, strong men go off to hunt."
"Look, nothing is going to get done if I have to stop every few minutes to
scoop you off the ground because you've gotten dizzy..." His tone was
teasing; he was trying to lighten the mood. I glared at him angrily.
His eyes darkened stormily and he dropped to his knees in front of me. "The
truth is that there is something wrong with you. I have never seen you get
dizzy or pass out for no reason. Something out there may be causing it.
Maybe something is interfering with the chip," he paused and stroked one
finger over the back of my neck. "Maybe they are calling abductees like they
did at the dam. I know that you've always resisted the idea that you are an
abductee, but you know that something is going on and you know that something
is not right with you. Please. Scully, you promised."
I slid to the edge of the bed so that he was kneeling between my legs.
"Okay," I whispered.
Mulder let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," he said as he kissed the side
of my neck. I couldn't seem to shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of my
stomach but maybe Mulder could help distract me for a little while. I slid
my hands along his forearms left exposed by the rolled up sleeves of his
shirt and tugged off the tie still loosely knotted around his neck. Then I
tugged the shirttails free of his pants and pulled the whole shirt over his
head. I pressed a kiss to his chest bared to my gaze and skimmed my fingers
along his ribs. Mulder moaned and pressed his body closer to me, his lips
seeking and finding the pulse pounding in my throat. We quickly shed the
rest of our clothes and I pulled him onto the bed with me. We were lying on
our sides, a mass of tangled legs, roving hands and seeking lips. Mulder
lifted my thigh over his hip and stared into my eyes as he sank into me,
filling all the empty places inside of me. My eyes slipped shut and I drew
his mouth to mine. Our kisses, like the movements of our bodies, were
languid; slow, lazy meetings of mouths and bodies savoring the pleasure,
drawing out the moment until Mulder gasped and stiffened in my embrace. He
brushed a knuckle under my chin and I watched his eyes blur and heard him
moan my name.
"Scuullly."
That one word, the sound of his voice groaning out my name with such need
sent me tumbling after him.
He rolled onto his back and I collapsed onto his stomach. Long moments
passed and then I crawled up his body, propping myself on my elbows. I raked
my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair and dropped a kiss onto his nose.
My cross dangled between our bodies from the delicate gold chain around my
neck. Mulder touched it with a gentle finger, sending the cross swinging in
tiny circles. I sat up and unhooked the tiny clasp, pulling the necklace
away from my body. I leaned over him and fastened the chain around his neck
with trembling fingers. The cross settled in the hollow of his throat and I
bent down to press my lips to it in benediction and offered a tiny prayer.
'Please God.' My entire world contained in those two words...please God keep
him safe; please God bring him home; please God; please, please, please.
Too soon it was time for him to go. I didn't understand why I was so
emotional about this parting. We've worked apart before. He would be home
in a few days. But an unnamed fear was gnawing away at me. We stood in the
hallway of his apartment building and he cupped my cheek with one hand, his
bag slung over his shoulder.
"I'll be home in a couple of days," he promised, his thumb stroking over my
cheekbone. I nodded, swallowing hard. "In the meantime, I want you to go to
the doctor, see what these dizzy spells are about."
I nodded again. "Okay."
He lowered his head and his mouth met mine, our lips clinging and then he
pulled back, swiping his thumb over my damp lips.
"I love you," I told him.
"I love you too," he said, stepping into the elevator. "I'll call you."
He never did.
**********
He was gone and I was pregnant. I couldn't believe it. And yet, the tests
and the ultrasounds all told me the same thing. I was about six weeks into
my first trimester.
A baby. His baby growing inside of me. I never felt so alone in my life. I
spent the first three days locked in Mulder's apartment crying. I couldn't
function. It was all too much for my mind to process. Mulder was
just...gone and I had no idea where to begin to look for him. And this baby
that wasn't supposed to be and yet was. How could it have happened? A
miracle? Or perhaps the intervention of something less than celestial.
It was too much for me to cope with. I didn't know how to save Mulder,
protect this child and take care of myself at the same time. The loss of
Mulder and my wildly careening, hormonally driven emotions left me
floundering. I needed to reassert some control over my life. I needed to
concentrate on one problem at a time.
I devoted myself to finding Mulder. Find Mulder, I reasoned, and everything
else will fall into place. I went faithfully to visit my obstetrician, took
my prenatal vitamins, did all the things I thought I was supposed to do, but
my focus was on Mulder.
I poured over all of his books on alien abductions. I surfed the Internet.
I spent long days and nights at the Lone Gunmen's running computer programs,
studying printouts and generally driving them crazy. We were spinning our
wheels. There was no starting point to finding him. I had no idea where he
could be and even less of a clue as to where to start looking. I traveled
out to Oregon three times, desperate for a clue. I prayed. I begged and
made bargains with God. In short, I was making myself sick.
My doctor read me the riot act about rest and the proper care for a pregnant
woman. My mother chastised me. "Dana, the expression 'you're eating for
two' is not just an old wives tale," she told me.
"I eat Mom."
"Not enough. Look at you! You're losing weight!"
"The ultrasound showed that the baby is fine, healthy and growing!" I
protested.
She grabbed me by the arm and forced me to look at her. "Dana, you have to
take care of yourself in order to take care of that baby. You won't be any
good to the baby or to Fox if you get sick!"
"I can't," I cried, yanking my arm from her grasp and lurching toward the
door. "Don't you understand? I can only do one thing at a time. I have to
find Mulder. Then I can worry about everything else!"
Sanity came to me from an unlikely source. I was at the Gunmen's place
studying yet another abduction related website. I stood up and swayed,
almost falling. All three men rushed to my side and helped settle me into a
chair. They fussed over me for a couple of minutes and I waved them off,
turning back to the monitor and rubbing my tired eyes.
Frohicke grabbed the arm of my chair and spun me around. Byers was leaning
against the desk, arms folded across his chest and Langley was pacing in
tight circles. They all looked like they had something to say. Finally,
Frohicke crouched in front of me.
"Scully...Dana. We've been wanting to tell you...what I mean is, we've been
trying to figure out a way..." He shook his head and turned to his
companions. They nodded encouragingly and he turned back to me. "Scully,
you look like hell!"
"Not you guys too," I groaned in frustration.
"You been taking a lot of heat?" he asked. I nodded.
"Good!" he exclaimed.
I jerked back in surprise. "Please, guys. Don't start with me. I'm doing
the best I can..."
"Bullshit!" Langley muttered.
"Dana," Frohicke began, "Nothing is more important right now than that baby."
"Not even finding Mulder?" I asked, shocked at his betrayal. He nodded
solemnly.
"You're crazy! I'm not giving up on him. You can all quit if you want, but
I am not going to stop looking for him. He didn't give up when I was
missing and I won't give up on him. Ever! Everyone wants me to stop and
concentrate on being pregnant. Well my body knows what to do!" My chest was
heaving as I railed at the three men standing before me. "What do you want
me to tell this child when it's born? That I was too busy picking out baby
furniture to find his father?"
"Of course not, Scully," Byers interrupted. "No one ever suggested anything
like that."
"No! You're all just accusing me of being a bad mother instead!" I looked
pleadingly at Frohicke. "It's too much. I can't enjoy this pregnancy while
Mulder is missing. I just can't. I have to find him. He's everything to
me. This baby...this pregnancy -- it isn't even real to me."
Frohicke leaned forward and pressed his hands over mine where they rested on
my knees. "That's because you haven't let it become real. Dana, you have to
slow down. We'll keep looking. You can still help, but you need to eat
better, you need more sleep. The baby will drain everything from you - you
know that - so you have to be careful. You don't want Mulder to come back to
find you sick, do you? The most important thing you can do for him right now
is protect his child. Dana...you're carrying the best part of him inside of
you."
I knuckled tears away from my eyes and nodded. I stood and prepared to
leave. "You'll keep me updated?"
"Of course, Scully," Byers said. "We still need your help. We don't want you
to stop looking...we just want you to take care of yourself."
Langley walked toward me with my coat and helped me into it. I blinked back
tears as I realized all of the little things they had done to make things
easier for me over the last few months. Their refrigerator was stocked with
milk and fresh produce; they had set up a bed in one of the rooms just for me
and covered it with a soft blanket. They walked me to my car and made me call
when I arrived at home. I realized that in taking care of the baby and me
they were doing what they could to help Mulder.
That night, Byers walked me to my car and waited as I settled behind the
wheel. "Thank you, John, for everything."
"We made a promise," he said simply.
I nodded, again blinking back tears. Byers cleared his throat and leaned
down to me. "We'll find him, Dana," he promised.
**********
We didn't find him and the months wore on. The baby grew bigger and by
extension, so did I. One minute I was filled with joy at the prospect of
this child and the next I resented every second of the pregnancy because it
kept me from looking for Mulder the way I wanted to. I was a basket case of
mixed emotions. I didn't want to have this baby without Mulder and at the
same time, I couldn't wait to hold my baby, *our* baby in my arms.
In the last few months of my pregnancy, I began to dream of Mulder. In my
dreams he was healthy and whole. In my dreams he told me he loved me. In my
dreams, he told me he was coming home to me.
************
I named him Christopher - after Saint Christopher, patron saint of travelers,
to whom I had been praying fervently for many months. Christopher Mulder. I
didn't choose a middle name. I'll let Mulder pick that when he comes home.
Christopher and I have been home from the hospital for about four days now
and I had spent most of that time in bed. My labor had been long and
difficult and when the fetal monitors showed that the baby was in distress,
the doctor decided to perform an emergency C-section. Today is the first
time that I have been out of bed. I am comfortably ensconced in the rocker
that was the Gunmen's contribution to the nursery, watching my baby's
eyelashes flutter in his sleep. I have fallen in love with another Mulder.
I think he looks like his father. Silky brown hair covers his head. The
shape of his brows and the full lower lip proclaim his paternity. His eyes
are blue, but then most babies have blue eyes.
A sudden knock on the door startles Christopher and he trembles and lets out
a tiny whimper. I shift him onto my shoulder and rub soothing hands over his
back as my mother answers the door. Skinner steps into the room, followed
closely by Frohicke, Byers and Langley.
"What is it?" I ask urgently, picking up on their obvious tension. I
struggle to get out of the chair and Skinner lends a helping hand.
"There's been some activity," Byers tells me.
"What kind of actively? Where?" The questions burst from my lips.
"Unidentified aircraft have been reported in the skies over Bellefleur."
I clutch the baby closer and he wails in protest. "Shhh," I whisper, rocking
back and forth, trying to settle him back down. "What time is our flight?"
"Dana," my mother protests. "You can't fly to Oregon, you just got out of
the hospital!"
I spin to face her. "I'm going to Oregon, Mom. Don't even think about
stopping me."
"What about Christopher?" she asks. "You can't leave him."
"I have no intention of leaving my son behind. He's going with me."
Skinner steps forward. "There's a flight that leaves in three hours. Will
you and the baby be ready?"
"Mom?" I turn to her. "Can you help me pack a bag for Christopher?"
She shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Dana. I can't."
I'm stunned by her refusal.
"I have to go home and pack. I'm going with you, so you better get another
ticket," she declares.
Frohicke reaches into his pocket and fans out a handful of airline tickets.
"Already have one," he grins.
My mother strokes her hand over my cheek and then presses a kiss to
Christopher's head. "Let's go find your daddy," she murmurs.
**********
It's late when we arrive. We check into our rooms at the motel and the
Gunmen set up their laptop computers while I settle Christopher down for the
night. I stand at the window, watching the skies, waiting and praying. But
the night is quiet and my mother finally convinces me to get some sleep. I
curl up in bed, drawing my baby close, taking comfort in his milky, powdery
smell.
Christopher wakes and I nurse him in the quiet of the early morning. The
others rise shortly after. I bundle the baby in a tiny hat and jacket and
don my own coat before joining the others who were gathering by the cars.
We spend hours in the woods, looking for what, I'm not sure. Frohicke, Byers
and Langley have set up their laptops and various other pieces of equipment
all over the forest floor and they are constantly monitoring the data
spilling forth. My mother takes Christopher back to the motel for a nap and
urges me to come along. "Dana, you shouldn't be out here so long. You just
came home from the hospital after having major surgery!" I shake my head
stubbornly and kiss Christopher. "Sleep well, baby."
The day is growing late and my heart sinks as another day passes without
Mulder. Then the trees and undergrowth of the forest begin to sway in a
sudden heavy gust of air and an unnatural silence settles over the woods. We
all look upward, straining to see something, but there is nothing to see. I
close my eyes in frustration. Just a storm brewing, I think.
"Look!" I turn at Skinner's cry and follow the line of his pointing finger.
A figure steps out of the mist and my heart jumps into my throat. But this
person is too small - it's a woman. I can't breathe as another person joins
her and then another and soon, dozens of people are staggering dazedly out of
the rolling fog.
I can see Skinner and the Gunmen frantically searching the growing crowd and
then the back of my neck tingles and I turn to my right. A figure, taller
than most of the others, steps into view. His gait is unsteady but I would
know him anywhere.
"Muldderrr!"
I hear the men shout behind me as I sprint toward him. I trip over an
exposed root and slam into the ground, but I am back on my feet before they
can reach me and am running again. Mulder is moving slowly and I can see the
moment recognition dawns in his eyes. He stands, frozen in place and then he
opens his arms as I fling myself into them.
"Scully," he breathes.
I throw my arms around his neck and I literally climb his body to lock my
legs around his waist. He staggers and almost falls but steadies himself and
buries his face in my hair.
We are both babbling incoherently and then the others surround us. Mulder
lowers me to the ground, but keeps me pressed tightly against him. I can't
stop running my hands over his face and chest. Skinner and the others pepper
him with questions, but he just presses me tighter and tighter against his
body. He's shivering in the cold air and I want to get him back to the motel
so that I can examine him and make sure that he is alright. I glance around
and see that the other people have disbursed. I don't know where they've
gone and right now, I don't really care.
I take one step away from Mulder and he cries out, trying to draw me back. I
take both of his hands in mine and step backward, toward the waiting car. He
takes one trembling step after me and then hauls me back into his arms. I am
straining up on my toes, my lips brushing his ear. "Come back to the motel
with me, Mulder. There's someone I want you to meet."
**********
It's so late, but I don't want to sleep. Everyone else has gone back to
their rooms. I still don't know exactly what happened to Mulder; so far I've
only gotten bits and pieces of what he experienced while he was gone. I know
he'll tell me everything over the next few days and right now I am content to
simply have him back. He seems healthy, but as soon as I get him home, I'm
going to subject him to every medical test I can think of. If he'll let me.
I'm in bed, propped up on a mound of pillows against the headboard. Mulder's
chin is resting against my shoulder as he watches me nurse Christopher. He
can't seem to stop touching him, running a gentle finger over the baby's
cheek as he tugs at my nipple or tracing the tiny fingers kneading my breast.
Mulder drops a kiss on the top of my breast and whispers against my skin.
"I witnessed some of the most amazing, incredible things while I was away,"
he says, "But I've never seen anything in my life more miraculous than this."
He lifts shining eyes to mine and I bend down to press my mouth to his.
"Welcome home, Mulder."
The End
Author's notes - I wasn't going to write a post Requiem fic. I swear it.
But I couldn't help myself. I know I didn't spend any time explaining where
Mulder went or what happened to him. Maybe as Season 8 draws closer, I'll
care. Right now all I wanted to do was bring him home to Scully.
I know you're being bombarded with post-finale fics but I'd love to know what
you thought of this one. Please write and let me know at tnv099@aol.com
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Old school buds here:
http://click.egroups.com/1/4057/3/_/599222/_/959316926/
------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
The X-Files Creative Mailing List
Archived at http://www.xemplary.com
To subscribe, go to http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-atxc
To unsubscribe, write
xfc-atxc-unsubscribe@onelist.com
Check out the XFC Feedback list
http://www.onelist.com/subscribe/xfc-fdbk
----------------------------------
Imported to ATXC courtesy of NewsGuy news service http://newsguy.com
(
geocities.com/area51/quasar) (
geocities.com/area51)