Other Plans
by Pam Gamble (eksphyl@yahoo.com)
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION:MSR, Fluff, alternating POV
SUMMARY: Scully decides she needs a real
relationship.
WARNING: IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR ANY KIND OF
SIGNIFICANCE OR PLOT, DO NOT LOOK HERE. If you just
want to have some fun, you may come in.
ARCHIVE:You want it? It's yours.
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Okay. That's it.
I can't do this anymore.
Six years of sexual frustration have finally pushed me
to the brink. I am at my absolute limit. No, that's
not true. I am beyond my limit. I think I caught a
glimpse of it as it whizzed by.
I had to make a decision. Knowing that I might hurt
him. That I could get hurt. But one of us has to do
this, or we're going to implode.
I stand up, looking around at the chaos of our office
walls.
Mulder is scratching away at an expense report, trying
to find new and inventive ways to write off his
neckwear. I suppress a tiny smile and sigh loudly to
get his attention. He looks up as I pluck my keys from
the desk drawer.
"Leaving early, Scully?"
"It's not early, Mulder. Most people leave work at 5."
"I need to get home."
"Are you feeling okay?" The concern in his voice hits
me like a sucker punch, and I feel like stopping this
whole thing now, while I still can.
"No, I mean, yes, I feel fine. Great, really. I just
have...somewhere to be...later, and I need to get
ready."
He nods blankly.
He looks back down at his report, and even though he's
trying to hide it I see his finger nervously tapping
the edge of his desk.
"Anywhere special?"
I press my lips together, considering my words
carefully. "Actually, I do have some plans."
I see him swallow hard. I wonder if he realizes how
transparent he is. Or maybe it's only because I know
what to look for.
"Alone?"
I smile. The hope in his voice is miniscule enough to
twist my heart. "Gee, I hope not. Dates aren't much
fun if you go on them alone."
His knuckles go white and for a second I think he's
going to snap that pencil in two. As cruel as I know I
am being right now, I know that eventually he will
understand. I *have* to do this. For both of our
sakes.
One of us needs to be strong enough to be the first to
let go.
His eyes don't quite meet mine. "You have a date?"
I nod. "Didn't I tell you?"
"No, you didn't," he says quietly, and my heart snags
on the catch in his voice. "Anyone I know?"
I turn to leave, knowing my timing is everything.
"Someone I've wanted to go out with for a long time.
Goodbye, Mulder."
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"Goodbye, Mulder." She flashes an honest-to-God smile
at me and walks away.
My heart has completely stopped beating. I know this
because a moment ago it was pounding loudly in my
ears. Now there is nothing but ominous silence.
I sit at my desk, vaguely wondering how long you can
survive once your heart stops beating. Hey, if Leonard
Betts could live without a head...
Unfortunately, it's probably not a fatal condition. I
wish it was. It would save me from having to think of
Dana Scully being with someone else tonight. From
looking at the expression on her face when she walks
in here tomorrow morning.
What about all the other mornings?
I may not even be able to hold down a job. It will
take every last bit of my concentration to remember to
breathe in and out.
What if I have to see her with him?
I'll be mature and exceedingly polite.
And then I'll curl up in the fetal position for a
couple decades.
I try to picture her with another man...someone she's
wanted for a long time? Maybe she met someone at
church. That would be good for her. Really. I think if
it was anyone here, I'd have noticed, wouldn't I?
Hell, maybe not.
I can't come up with a face. But I can see a hand
holding hers. Fingers combing through her hair. Lips
touching...except they're not someone elses. They're
my hands and my lips and I shudder as I picture what
else they could do to her.
I shake my head. It's not you, Mulder. She was lucky
enough to find someone who appreciates her, maybe make
her laugh, make her happy. After what she's been
through, I would never begrudge her any happiness. I
will not stand in her way.
Even if it kills me.
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I smooth the dress over my hips, looking in the mirror
for reassurance. A little makeup, heels, okay. Ready.
Wait. I can't do this.
I sit down on the bed, dizzy. I think I'm going to
throw up. I know I am.
Oh, God, I can't do this.
Deep breaths, Dana.
I close my eyes and present my own little slideshow in
my head. Click. Donnie Pfaster. Click. Our first case.
Click. All the times I've wanted to go to someone and
couldn't. Click. Click. Click. The times I've needed
support. Click Click. The times I've needed comfort.
Click. Click. Click.
Okay.
I can do this now.
Because I need to. Because my heart can't take this
anymore. It can't be alone for one more second. And
even if I destroy everything, I have to do this.
Please understand, Mulder.
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Sucking in my breath, I hesitate at the door. It's
either knock or collapse from lack of oxygen. I knock
quickly before I can change my mind.
I've just decided he's not home when the door opens.
The burning sensation in my stomach radiates to my
face, darkening the pale skin there.
"Hello, my name is Dana Scully. I work at the Bureau.
I don't know if you've noticed me."
He looks...amused. I may shoot myself right here.
"I've...I've noticed you," he stammers. His face is
etched in confusion. "But you're always with that
goofy-lookin' guy."
I blush harder. I think I'm giving off heat. "No, we just
work together."
My chest is scarlet now, and would bring to mind a
Hawthorne joke if I was in a laughing mood. Which I'm
not.
He seems to have noticed this too. At least, he's
having trouble meeting my eyes.
The low growl of his voice startles me. "I don't
believe you."
Wait...what?
"Don't believe what?" I ask, slightly put out.
"That you two just work together. I've seen the way
you look at him."
He's definitely amused now. Murder-suicide it is,
then. This is NOT going according to plan.
My hands are fidgeting with each other, wishing they
had some pockets to hide in. He reaches out to still
both of my hands with one of his. I could get used to
that, I really could.
"And I see the way he looks at you." His voice is
pained, as though his throat is closing.
My instincts tell me he's mocking me, but I want so
badly for that not to be true.
"Actually, I think he's in love with you."
I shake my head quickly. "No, he's not." I lick my
lips, useless since my mouth is so dry. "He's never
told me that."
"Then he's a fool," he says, darkly serious.
"He's not, he's just..." Wait just a damn minute. Why
am I defending him? This is NOT how this was supposed
to go. But he finishes my sentence for me.
"Afraid?"
I nod. "Maybe."
He reaches up to push my hair behind my ear. Have I
become so desperate for human touch that this little
gesture could make me weak in the knees?
It would appear so.
"What do you think he's afraid of?"
"I don't...don't know." What was the question again?
"Maybe he's spent all his life trying to be better
*than* other people, not being better *for* someone."
His voice became impossibly lower. "Maybe he's afraid
you couldn't love him the way he loves you."
His hand is under my hair now, stroking my neck. A
touch that is at once familiar and brand new.
I realize he's waiting for an answer.
So, Dana, old life or new?
"I do."
His hand stops. "You do what?"
My voice is not my own. It can't be, because I don't
cry.
"I do love him."
"Then what are you doing?" he asks softly.
"I just, I needed to know for sure."
"I think you already knew."
I look up at him, wishing I had the strength to look
indignant.
"Maybe I just wanted to hear you say it."
He reaches around my waist, and I sink gratefully into
his arms. Painful as it was, I'm glad I did this,
because now I know the truth. That I'm not alone.
I realize that he's never really kept me out, I just
never let him in.
"I love you, Scully."
I smile as tears slide over my lips. "Me, too."
He turns his face into my hair. "I had visions of you
taking off with Skinner."
I grin, I can't help myself. "Well, Mulder, if things
hadn't worked out here..."
The End
Okay, so we all knew where that was going. I told you,
you want plot, go look at one of my other stories. And
where would those be, you might ask?
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