TITLE: Middle of the Night
AUTHOR: Hiding in the Light (hidinginthelight@hotmail.com)
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Keep/6956/Homepage.htm
CATEGORY: R,V,A,H (MSR, Vignette, touch of Angst and Humor)
SUMMARY: "all things" post-ep. Scully awakens in Mulder's
apartment in the middle of the night. She soon finds
she's not the only one awake.
SPOILERS: Post-ep story for 'all things'. Some references to
Chinga, FTF, DII
RATED: PG
ARCHIVE: Sure! Just drop me a URL so I can visit and keep
headers attached.
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance, "all things" post-ep story
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never in a million years. Mulder and
Scully are property of Chris Carter and 1013, I just borrow them
so this shipper can rest peacefully at night.
FEEDBACK: "Just pick up the mouse and make it happen!" Flames
will be used to light a Morley after you "vanish without a
trace." :o)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay, I thought all things was stunning! It's
been on my mind since it aired and my poor Moby CD is worn out.
Finally I gave up fighting the urge, and decided to try a post-ep
piece. I haven't actually published anything on the web yet, but
I consider this my second story since my first has already had a
year's worth of time put into it. This is just a quick break
from it. This story is more serious than my usual style, and
normally I run from stories that have lyrics included in it as a
theme...but come on, this is Moby we're talking about. The song
actually inspired what you'll find below, so I may skip a
repeated lyric or two, but if I didn't this thing would be
way too long (as if I'm not long winded enough), so enjoy!
Lyrics from "The Sky is Broken" is from Moby's "Play" CD. Also
featuredin "all things."
http://www.moby.org
Started: April 12, 2000
Finished: April 14, 2000
Thanks to Boxers, DD4me2, and Haskell for beta reading! You all
are the best for putting up with all of my questions!
~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~
"Loving, for a long time ahead and far into life, is solitude, a
heightened and deepened kind of aloneness." ~Rilke
~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~
~ See the storm is broken
In the middle of the night ~
Scully's eyelids fluttered, reality gently entering her body as
conscious thoughts flooded her senses. A dull, metallic sound
had spoiled her much needed sleep, tiredness immediately creeping
back into her bones. Her heavy lashes begged to remain weaved
together, sleep annihilating her thoughts faster than she could
retaliate against it. The small of her back ached for relief,
her right leg numb of circulation from her awkward position, but
the desire for sleep outweighed the pained cries from her body.
She leaned back purposefully, welcoming the vast darkness
spreading through her thoughts at a rapid pace, bringing soothing
comfort, calm.
Vinyl against wood. The sound plunged into her eardrums like a
train charging straight at her, its tone unmerciful, persistent.
Her ice-blue eyes opened, angry and irritated for the invasion.
Her irises registered the blue-green haze of a shadowy room, her
eyes darting to its corners to focus on the only available light
source. The watery, rectangular existence immediately registered
in her conscious thoughts.
Mulder.
She was at Mulder's.
She remembered.
Her hand automatically reached out, coming in contact with icy,
slick leather, hopes shattered of a warm, sleeping body being
there. Her last thoughts had been of him, talking to her with
gentle tones, listening as she weaved the day's very strange
events before him. They had stretched out their feet on his
coffee table, the wood darkened with age, her pantyhose slippery
against the slick varnish. Her unpleasantly dry throat had
welcomed a cup of steaming hot tea. The warm liquid satisfyingly
washing through her limbs, bringing life back into her sore
muscles. They had talked, relaxed together. She could
feel Mulder's dark hazel eyes making a poor attempt at staying
expressionless as she, Dr. Science herself, had explained her
attempt to use a healer to rescue Daniel from his coma, to bring
him back from the warm breath of immortality. It had worked.
Two more crisp knocks against wood broke her reflections, her
eyes focusing on Mulder's window. It had been left open, the
Venetian blind fluttering like a leaf on a tree. The winds
outside howled a clarion call, heart-rendering and solitary as
the rumbling bass of thunder uttered its discontent.
Scully caressed the thick, wooly Navajo blanket strewn across
her, knowing the hands and the care that had placed it there.
She slowly moved it to the side. A slight shiver crept down her
spine and down her arms, as if someone had just run the blade of
a knife over her skin. The icy wind from the storm invaded the
blanket's warmth in a matter of seconds as she slowly rose to her
feet.
The bluish-green light from the aquarium surrounded her like an
aura as her feet padded inaudibly against Mulder's chilly,
hardwood floor. She leaned across his desk, papers askew,
raindrops splattered randomly across them as the blind continued
to bob at the mercy of the wind. Her hand reached for the window
pane, her skin brushing across a soft material on the desk. She
paused, looking down, reality striking her with a fierce blow.
Stonehenge Rocks.
~ Nothing left here for me
it's washed away ~
That had been Mulder's adventure, his quest. She had openly
thrown out her skepticism, her mockery, at him that afternoon in
the office. He had wanted to cross the Atlantic to investigate
crop circles...right after they finished up a case on a drowning
due to Margarita mix. Crop circles, exsanguinations, hexes,
cannibalism, mutants, little green men...these were Mulder's
paranormal investigations where she had been there to keep him
honest, to keep him a whole person. This was how their
partnership worked. Her science and strict rationalism kept him
on track, kept their work balanced. They never planned on
crossing to the other's side, their wills too strong, their
passions too great. And yet, she had believed. She crossed the
line the moment she sat down before the Buddha in the temple.
She had seen the summation of her life's choices flash before
her, then the cause of Daniel's sickness and despair. She had
called in a man to spiritually heal her former love, in a last
attempt, an attempt on something she couldn't prove or
rationalize. When Daniel had awoken again, she had been
grateful for the unknown forces she had put her faith into. What
bearing would that hold on her investigative work with her
partner? What happens when the scales are slightly off balance?
~ The rain pushes
the buildings aside
the sky turns black ~
A gust of wind pelted a mist of droplets across Scully's pale,
smooth-skinned face. Her locks of auburn hair billowed from her
scalp as the coolness washed through her. She reached over and
pulled two slats down with her index finger, the plastic cracking
and subsiding under the light force. Her eyes peered through the
gap, assessing the strength of the storm. Quick, fat raindrops
glittered in the dim light of a streetlamp below, unmercifully
pounding the saturated earth while the wind swirled and deterred
them into a chaotic pattern. The clouds were thick and black in
the night sky, visible for a brief moment when a flash of
lightning sent its white network of veins snapping across,
leaving them once again hidden, their fury unknown.
"Damn." Scully whispered, her dry lips barely moving. Driving
conditions could not have been worse, and here she was, stuck at
Mulder's in the middle of the night. Her body ached for her own
bed, for the soft goose-down comforter she could wrap her tired
limbs around and away from the icy chill of the raging storm.
She loved the rain when she at home, listening to the musical
patter against the shingles, a gentle symphony that never failed
to lull her to sleep. But here, the rain was her enemy, trapping
her from reaching that warm, safe destination. Here a cold,
lumpy couch awaited her, leering at the possibilities of how
cramped and sore her back would be by morning.
~ The sky
wash it far
push it out to sea ~
A defeated sigh escaped from her lips as she reached up and slid
the window shut. The bone-chilling gusts suddenly ended, a
peaceful silence returning. The drone of the tiny aquarium motor
hummed steadily, tiny flecks of gold and silver darting inside,
oblivious to the world outside their glass walls.
She retreated to the kitchen, feet colliding with ice-cold tile
as she reached up to turn the stove light on. The weak, yellow
light from the bulb cast shadows against the takeout bags strewn
across the Formica countertop, a load of dishes swaying
dangerously like the Leaning Tower of Pisa in the sink. She
resisted the urge to rescue the fragile Corelle pieces, a wan
smile briefly touching her lips. This was Mulder. If the
kitchen had been spotless, she would know immediately it wasn't
by him. And almost a year ago, after a quick use of innuendo
and handcuffs, she had been right in her assumption. The
refrigerator was covered in a collage of newspaper, pictures, and
tape as Scully quietly opened the door to peer inside. She
searched for a cold liquid to sooth her dry mouth, her eyes
stopping on a lone carton. Orange juice. Well, that would work.
She lifted the carton from the shelf, popping open the flap only
to immediately extend it away from her face. She squinted to
read the expiration: Oct '97. "Mulder!" Scully whispered in a
frustrated tone, shoving it back on the shelf and slamming the
door. Typical Mulder, she reminded herself. The lukewarm
water from the tap would have to do...now, all she had to do was
find a clean glass.
~ I watch it lift up to the sky
I watch it crush me
and then I die ~
Thunder rumbled the very foundation of Mulder's building, the
wind relentless in it's fury. Everything happens for a reason.
"It's mind-boggling, Mulder, to realize all the choices there
are, and how each and every one from the tiniest decision we
make, to what we perceive as life altering decisions, can impact
our lives so tremendously." This is what she had stated, had
learned by her past catching up to her. Since when had Dana
Scully started believing to follow her heart and not her mind
when it came down to life's paths? That was something her
sister had believed in, not her. How could it have all changed
in the course of a day? Had it been there all along, she had
just been moving too fast to turn around and stare it in the
face? She could feel these very questions gnawing at her soul as
she downed another mouthful of tepid water. Her identity had
always been a scientist, believing in physical evidence, being
professional, down-to-earth. Her partner had always been the
'spooky' one, but the day's events left her feeling spooked at
herself. Her very core had been altered, she had opened her
heart to the unexplained, allowed it to seep into her soul, her
hopes. She had clung to the Dana Scully of science for years,
and this breach of contract with her persona left her confused,
terrified. She had to slow down. She was passing by so many
opportunities, so many choices that life offered for her. She
was a changed woman from ten years ago, she knew without a doubt,
but how many chances had she missed? For her? For her and her
partner? What had she secretly been wanting when she had
announced to Mulder that she was leaving the bureau two years
ago? What caused her to make the split-second decision to come
by his apartment to say her good-byes? She knew the answer...she
had always known the answer. It had been a last chance...a
journey her heart had taken her on. She had desperately wanted
him to stop her, not just with his hands or persuasive words, but
with love.
The dark night had brought dangerous thoughts to her mind, the
heavy glass making a loud clunk on the speckled gray countertop
as she released it from her grip. She hurriedly switched off the
stove light, her need to leave her partner's apartment growing at
an exponential rate.
Nature called.
The cup of tea from earlier that night had undoubtedly began
straining against her bladder. She knew where the bathroom
was...knew who she had to get by in order to reach the
destination. A debate unfolded on which was more important, the
tea ultimately winning after the internal civil war. She would
make it quick, inaudible, then she would escape into the pounding
rain and howling wind to blindly drive back to her home, praying
that she wouldn't end up a telephone pole in the process.
The heavy wood door was ajar, inviting.
Scully's fingertips pushed against the coolness, feeling the
slightest of breezes wash around her. His window was open, but
just a crack as tiny storm gusts whistled their way through. The
streetlamp from outside his window cast an extremely dim white
glow across the room. It was just enough light for Scully to
navigate the clothes puddled at her feet, but her eyes acted like
magnets, moving straight for the silhouette laying peacefully
beneath a quilted, blue silk comforter. She stood like a statue
in the darkness, eyeing the steady rise and fall of chest,
hearing the slow intakes and expulsion of breath through
gentle nostrils. She searched the masculine face of her partner,
finding a relaxed, peaceful expression of sleep etched across
each curvature and recess. Scully tiptoed purposefully toward
the bathroom, her eyes snaking back to memorize her sleeping
partner in different angles, hoping not to wake him.
~ Speak to me baby
in the middle of the night ~
"You don't have to be such a church mouse, Scully. I'm still
awake."
Scully inhaled a sharp breath, her heart drumming wildly. Damn
his insomnia.
His voice was lazy with sleep, Scully assessing that her presence
had entered the room just minutes before he had entered the
unconscious world.
"I heard you in the kitchen." He continued, his legs slowly
rustling underneath the covers, "I hope you didn't try the orange
juice."
Scully allowed a smile to play at her lips in the darkness.
"Mulder, there have been quarantines warranted for less than
that."
She could feel Mulder's hazel eyes sparkle as he propped his head
up with an elbow, the covers slipping down to his waist, his bare
chest becoming exposed in the white light. She couldn't deny her
eyes the firm muscles etched and molded like a fine Roman
sculpture. Although she had seen his chest numerous times
before, it had always been in a different context. This time he
wasn't sick or injured, just leisurely resting in his bed, in his
home.
The winds bellowed outside.
She had to get out of there.
"You know what's strange," he continued, her eyes immediately
flickering to his own, "Every time I catch a re-run of American
Bandstand that carton enters my mind."
"Well I wouldn't be surprised if it grew legs and joined you on
the couch." Scully countered, taking another step closer to the
dark pit of the bathroom.
Mulder emitted a feathery chuckle, a rolling crack of thunder
drowning out the last notes as he continued to watch his
partner's movements in the darkness of his bedroom. Her steps
were quiet and silky--her actions betraying a storm of emotion
whipping wildly just beneath her skin. He patiently waited for
he to speak.
After a strained pause, Scully expertly pulled her thoughts into
patented form. "Get some sleep, Mulder, I didn't mean to wake
you. I just needed a quick run to the bathroom and then I'm
heading home."
Mulder's dark eyebrows raised inquiringly. "In this weather?
Have you looked outside lately?"
Of course she had, she told herself, gritting her teeth and
making a lunge for the safety of the bathroom. The sooner she
stopped the small-talk, the sooner she would be out of there.
She could get some rest in the sanctity of her home, build back
the strength she needed to keep her emotions subdued. "It's
fine, Mulder."
Her voice echoed amongst the yellowed bathroom walls as the door
shut with a bang. Mulder waited patiently for her to return,
gearing up for a battle of wills. She was not going out driving
in such a wrath of nature. It was ridiculous.
Scully returned a few minutes later, the bathroom light searing
Mulder's eyesight when the door swung open. She quickly switched
off the vanity light, Mulder's expression reflecting one that she
had made minutes ago herself. She took advantage of Mulder's
sudden blindness by making a bee-line for the living room,
blinking rapidly for her pupils to adjust to the thick darkness
of the bedroom.
"Hey, Scully, where are you going?" Mulder asked, the rustling of
covers and sloshing water indicating that he had suddenly sat up.
"Home, Mulder." Scully sighed as if she were explaining it for
the tenth time, her eyes darting back for a glance at her
partner.
"Why don't you wait until the weather clears up? I know my couch
isn't The Ritz, so take my bed...I'll go sleep on the couch." He
insisted with gentle tones caressing Scully's ears.
"Just...stay."
Scully could feel the warmth spread in her cheeks, her muscles
burning at an attempt not to smile. Her squared shoulders were
already melting, butterflies clenching the pit of her stomach.
"I don't want you to get out of bed because of me. This is your
place, Mulder, you should sleep where you want."
"It's not like I've never slept out there before. It'll be like
old times. My couch needs a trip down memory lane every now and
then."
His back was turned toward the window, his face swathed in
darkness, unreadable from where she was standing. But she didn't
need to see his face with her eyes, feeling a warm smile
radiating straight across the room, surrounding her with hot
flames, drawing her in. "Alright, Mulder." She exhaled in a
whisper, "I'll take the couch and wait until it stops raining."
She was surprised by Mulder's chortle of laughter. "Scully, I
don't need to hear about how my couch put your back out for the
next three weeks. Anyway, it's an acquired taste."
Scully opened her mouth to protest.
"Of course," Mulder deliberately continued, knowing he was
cutting off a Scully rebuttal, "we could compromise and get what
we both want."
Scully's fine eyebrow gave a suspicious lift.
"In case you haven't noticed, this bed is made for more than just
one. At least I would be relieved that you're not out skidding
around on the flooded streets out there, and you can be happy
that I'm still in my own bed, and you can wake up without your
back being sore."
"Mulder, I don't know if that's..."
"We can have one of those slumber parties where we brush each
other's hair and paint our toenails." Mulder added with a
taunting waggle of his eyebrows.
"That's tempting, Mulder," Scully mused to her partner, growing
serious, "but I don't think..."
A deafening crack of thunder seared her eardrums, startling her
with its sudden explosion. Her jaw hung open in mid-sentence,
the world around her suddenly growing slower. Her heart thumped
in a melodic beat, her hand drifting through the air with
deliberate slowness toward her chest.
Slow down.
Everything happens for a reason.
The storm is an opportunity, lending a new path, a new fork to
travel that had otherwise been passed by many times before. Look
at it, take it, grasp it and never let go. Make a choice.
Listen to your heart, follow it into the unknown, into the
darkness of the night.
"The storm's practically right on top of us." Mulder commented,
counting the seconds between the brilliant streaks of light and
its encore of furious bass. "Now what was that you were saying,
Scully?"
Scully could feel the throb of her heart beneath her fingertips,
a gasp escaping from her throat. A gleam of resolve blazed from
the indigo depths of her eyes, giving her companion another
furtive glance. "Fine, Mulder, but I get the covers."
Mulder was eternally grateful that his hands were positioned
against the waterbed headboard, otherwise he would have fallen
straight to the floor.
~ Pull your mouth
close to mine ~
"You gonna' sleep in those pantyhose all night?" Mulder queried
with mock humor as he wrapped his chilled body with the Navajo
blanket from the living room, watching Scully squish into the
watery folds of the bed.
He could feel the vibes of death pulsing from her glare.
Scully didn't answer. She usually didn't when he had one of
those rare moments of being right. Irritated, she heaved back
out of the waterbed, making sure to leave with a quick jump,
knowing her partner received a jolting aftershock. With a
triumphant grin, she quickly shimmied her legs free from the
binding nylon, the cold air sending a shock of goosebumps
tickling up her thigh. She reached over to her hip, sending the
zipper of her skirt downward with a loud rip, allowing
her tired abdomen muscles room to breathe. She didn't have to
turn around to know Mulder had a wide-eyed expression across his
clean-cut features. She was too stubborn to ask for something
more comfortable.
She turned back toward the bed, grasping a wad of thick, silky
comforter beneath her fingers. Mulder was laying casually on his
back, fingers kneaded together behind his head, looking a little
too smug for her liking. Mulder's bed. Mulder in the bed. What
on earth was she doing?!
Time passes in moments. Take stock of each precious moment
before it passes.
Sleep deprivation was winning over. She would reprimand herself
further in the morning when she had a new burst of energy. Her
legs slipped under the covers, silk against silk, warmth against
cold. The goosebumps melted away as the water gently rocked
because of her movements. Her nostrils burned as they were
immersed in the smell of musk, of him. The wind howled a
melancholy call through the window, the rain pelting its anger
against the roof.
"What in the world..." Scully mumbled to herself, reaching
underneath the covers to her feet. She pulled out an empty
sunflower husk between her fingers, a disgusted look darkening
her face.
"Oh sorry about that, Scully." Mulder piped up quickly, obviously
enjoying the new event. "Those usually travel in groups, so
don't say you haven't been warned."
"You eat these in bed too?" Scully asked in disbelief.
"Hey, you opted for the covers." Mulder quipped, burying his head
into the softness of his pillow.
Scully shook her head. In any fantasy shee would quickly deny
she ever had, rolling around in sunflower shells had not been a
part of them. She could feel a smile breaking from her lips
despite herself, quickly rolling away from Mulder to face the
window.
"What's so funny?" came the sandpaper rasp of Mulder's voice,
devilishly soft.
He certainly didn't miss much.
"You." Scully replied in a soft whisper against the white
pillowcase.
The water beneath them rippled, beginning from Mulder's side of
the bed and rebounding toward her. He had moved to his side,
facing her, one arm propped beneath his head for support. He was
inches away from her bundled form, heat radiating from his body.
A deadly distance away.
Scully curiously turned in his direction, a lock of auburn silk
scattering across her face. Before she could reach up to move
it, large fingers, warm and exquisitely soft, brushed across her
brow, moving the wave of hair with it. Her head was trapped
against the cotton pillowcase, his face hovering above hers in
the darkness. She could feel the gentle breeze of his breath
fluttering across her skin, his eyes dark and unfathomable in the
night's pitch black. She could feel the blood beating silently
in her wrists and temples, her mind racing for tactics on what
move to make, on interpreting what Mulder was going to do next.
She could feel him lean closer, making eye contact with her as
his lips lingered above hers.
Lightning flashed, raindrops shimmering in the sky.
A fork in the road.
A path not yet discovered.
"Good night, Scully." He whispered with unmistakable tenderness,
retreating his hand and making a disappointing withdrawal.
Good night?!
"Good night, Mulder." Scully answered in her crisp, unrevealing
tone, tossing back on her side in one quick motion, throwing him
into the angered darkness of her mind.
~ I can see the wind coming down
like black night
so speak to me
like the winds outside ~
She couldn't sleep, as tired as she was. It wasn't insomnia,
since she had been sitting on the couch with Mulder earlier and
simply rocked her head back into immediate sleep. No, this was
all Mulder, leaning over dangerously above her, throwing her
senses into high gear. And of course, she was actually sleeping-
-or trying to--in the same bed with himm. Had she gone insane?!
Her face was supported by a crooked arm wrapped around the
pillow's softness, staring through the small gap of the open
window. The brave light from the lamp down below fell obliquely
across her pale, creamy skin. The oval of her face was delicate,
perfect, and every nuance, every detail was awake, alive. Her
body was attuned to every ripple the waterbed made as Mulder
gently twisted and turned. It was odd to have another soul next
to her in her slumber. It had been years.
The storm outside must have been hovering straight over
Washington, not wanting to leave Mulder's apartment building
without fully battering the cinderblock sides with its hostile
winds. Through the window Scully stared into the rich, velvet
black of the sky, a spark of electric current throwing a shock of
light into the dark, swirling masses of seething vapor.
She sighed audibly in vain, knowing she wasn't leaving anytime
soon.
"Still awake?"
Did the man ever sleep?!
Scully glanced upward to the red digits on Mulder's clock. 3:10.
She groaned inwardly, wondering how she was going to be fresh and
ready for work only four hours away.
"It's just the storm." Scully replied in a cautious, non-
committal tone.
"I can close the window if that would help." Mulder suggested in
a throaty whisper that sent Scully's whole body on the defensive.
"No, no, the breeze is nice." She answered quickly, not daring to
look at him from the corner of her eye.
"Okay, then." Mulder conceded, a sloshing wave indicating he had
moved to his side. The warm air puffing at her neck confirmed
it. "My years of lack of sleep always turned out to be something
that was weighing on my mind. So what's eating at you? I thought
after today's events you were in pretty good shape."
Scully's blue eyes widened as her body froze, immediately tense
and alert. They had already had one long talk that night, which
was a record by itself, but now Mulder was instigating two?!
Plus, in her tired, drained state, she knew her protective shield
she coated herself with was almost non-existent. She was more
afraid of sliding down the slippery slope of her honest emotions
than of anything else. She didn't doubt that the brilliant
profiling mind of her partner already knew that.
"It's just the storm, Mul..."
A blinding flash of brilliant white light flooded the room, the
strike possibly connecting with a tree or antenna just outside
the building. She could feel the hair on her arms and on the
back of her neck standing on end, her breathing emanating in
labored puffs. She could hear the sharp intake and release of
the air in her lungs rushing through her ears, the slow bob of
the waterbed rocking her with its gentle sway-swing motion.
Slow down. Stop and consider this path before dismissing it.
Test it. The enigmatic woman led you to Mulder. Dip you toes into
the black waters.
~ It's broken up, pushing us ~
"What was that earlier? The 'good-night' moment?" Scully
blurted in a whisper, her voice sounding normal despite the
sudden frenzy of terror racing down her spine. She felt the
danger of the question like a dead weight on her back, but she
had triumphantly taken a step toward an unexplored path. Her
body slowly moved beneath the sheets, turning to face her
companion, her partner.
He had stiffened and seemed suddenly uncomfortable. He bit his
lower lip in thought, knowing she was reading every movement of
his, not expecting anything but an honest answer to an honest
question.
"I'm sorry, Scully."
She noticed that his eyes again sought hers, only to slide away a
second later. "I was going to give your forehead a kiss..."
His voice drifted into the storm. Forehead?! Somehow that had
been amusing, frustrating, and delightful all at the same time.
A hollow feeling had formed in the pit of her stomach, a fear
gently creeping into her body.
"...but I had changed my mind. I wanted something else." He
ended with a pained tone. His words hung in the air without
expectation of any response.
~ Hear the rain fall
see the wind come to my eyes
see the storm broken
now nothing ~
A horrifyingly honest answer.
He saw her hand tremble slightly, like a leaf on a tree in the
gentlest of breezes. Impulsively his hand reached from
underneath the scratchy Navajo, snaking across the gap between
their bodies to make contact with her hand. The meeting ignited a
fire, his fingertips squeezing down upon the silk of cool skin,
fingers naturally intertwining around each other.
"What are you afraid of, Scully?" he remarked with a gravity in
which she detected a hidden irony.
His eyes burned into the ice-blue depths across from him.
"The same thing you're afraid of." She breathed into the
melancholy of the wind, feeling her words dance to his ears like
playful notes. Her eyes still held on to a degree of caution as
well as a new respect for the fears they shared. Her body had
become intensely hot beneath the thick layers of bedding, her
heart throbbing in her veins, against her skin. Her lungs were
being very difficult in allowing oxygen to travel freely to her
limbs.
Thunder clapped outside, jarring the naked shadow of fear.
~ Speak to me baby
in the middle of the night ~
Mulder clenched her hand tighter, as if trying to hold themselves
from the abyss threatening to swallow them. He caressed her long
slender hand with the pads of his fingers, moving across smooth,
rounded nails, down to the quickly dampening palm. His hand
gently asked for her hand to follow, the ivory skin coming in
contact with his moist lips.
Scully withheld a trembling breath, nerves skyrocketing across
her skin. The touch was comfortable, simple, yet sent an inferno
of flames lashing through her skin. She knew his lingering lips
wanted to stay forever.
~ speak to me
hold your mouth to mine ~
Here was a path she had missed multiple times. Seven years of
passing it by, never giving it a second glace. Too afraid of the
darkness it kept. It was time to slow down, to believe once
again. Believe that love waited for her on the other side.
Believe.
Scully sat up higher in the bed, basking in the coolness flowing
from the open window. The room began to spin in dark circles of
velvet around her, her hand coming to life against Mulder's.
Her iron grip around his fingers startled him, allowing the kiss
to be broken. He stared at her with open astonishment as she
caressed her hand down the masculine line of his jaw, his hand
still attached.
She stopped, her mouth open, feeling as if she were leaning over
the edge of an abyss. Her heart hammered faster in her throat, a
flush of heat searing into her cheeks. Her eyes deadlocked
against the surprised hazel irises of her partner, her head
reaching the point of no return. The path was irreversible,
unbreakable, unstoppable. She welcomed the darkness, believed in
her love, believed it would be returned. No greater clarity had
occupied a place in time and space in her reality.
Her lips met against his, flesh against flesh, a tremor of shock
running through her partner before he came alive with a response
of his own. He would never turn her down, never push away such
an invitation to feel the depths of Dana Scully she kept hidden
only for herself. The chaste kiss on New Year's was in no
comparison to the one they shared in his bed, in the pitch black
of the night, under the warmth of covers sheltered from the wrath
of a storm.
Scully's lips parted with her partner's, feeling him brush
against her lips immediately after, not wanting to let go so
abruptly. Their kiss deepened, filling them with softness,
respect, warmth. Lips glided together, of lost souls united,
their hands still intermingled under Mulder's jaw. He moved his
free hand to cup her face, sliding back to tangle through her
auburn locks with a jubilant sense of comfort. He absorbed every
feel of her in this unguarded moment, his nostrils inhaling the
sweet fragrance of her, fingertips memorizing every nuance of her
skin. His lips ached to taste the skin his hand had found, but
knew this was not the time. Next time.
"Mulder." Scully exhaled with a ragged whisper, breaking their
last kiss with deliberate slowness. Her eyes were as wild as her
breath, both out of control with fires of emotion. Her fingers
squeezed tighter against Mulder's, the two hands that had yet to
break contact.
Mulder responded with a desperate squeeze, moving her hand back
to his lips, hearing an aching sigh escape from his partner's
soul.
Their eyes were all the communication they ever needed, now
reflecting the confirmation of their actions, of their
declarations for one another. No regrets, no confusion, the
ending being more simple than either had imagined. The new path
wasn't a dead end, but a beginning. A beginning to beautiful
scenery ahead, the annihilating darkness quenched beneath their
steps.
~ 'cause the sky is breaking ~
"Look at that, Scully, the rain stopped." Mulder spoke with the
dark rasp of his voice, "Isn't that a coincidence."
Scully leaned back to her side of the bed, her head moving toward
the window, feeling a tingling sensation shudder through her
body. No, it wasn't a coincidence, not for her, Dr. Scully of
Science. Everything happened for a reason, and she had put her
faith into the forces she couldn't explain. The whole day had
guided her on a journey of life's choices, and she had stopped to
consider them all. Her head sunk into the pillow, an odd sense
of partial but exhilarating triumph, like a presentiment one got
in the middle of a long race that it was still possible to reach
the finishing post. Her hand stayed laced in her partner's as he
recovered himself with the black and tan Navajo.
~ it's deeper than love
I know the way you feel ~
"You don't have to use that." Scully spoke toward the ceiling,
her voice confident, warm with grace. "Get under the covers...I
won't tell if you won't."
She could feel Mulder's smile lighting up the room like the
lightning from only five minutes ago as Navajo was discarded to
the floor with the rest of his clothes. His large frame radiated
a comforting warmth as he settled in, the bed swaying to the
motion of his limbs. His right hand was still connected to her
left, their bond unfaltering, unyielding.
She felt his free hand caress down the length of her face, the
heat leaving a trail of exhilarated nerves behind. "Good night,
Scully."
"Good night." She answered in return, making one more confident
squeeze with her fingers. Their bonded hands rested gently
between them, the sudden silence from outside engulfing the room.
Scully laid awake, feeling the racing pulse in Mulder's fingers
grow steadily slower, her eyes watching a leaden, gray dawn break
outside the open window.
Once she felt Mulder asleep, she lifted her sore body slowly from
the bed, reluctantly removing the bonded grip of their hands.
Her palm was still sweaty, the smell of him unmistakably mingled
with her own. She padded quietly into the bathroom, smoothing
her forest green shirt, moving the zipper of her skirt back into
its original position, her abdomen screaming obscenities at her
for the sudden tightness. Her auburn locks were mussed no matter
how much patting her palms gave them, and with a grab for her
pantyhose she slipped out of his apartment, keys in hand.
~ like the rains outside
speak to me ~
The front steps of the apartment building were slick with puddles
of rainwater as Scully carefully descended in her heeled pumps.
Her eyes moved from her shoes into the glistening world of water,
the birth of the sun turning the gray sky salmon. Raindrops
glittered across the deciduous trees full of leaf, the darkened
roads glistened with wet, oily sheens. The storm had kept her
here, here with Mulder. Nature's fury had spoken to her in the
only way it knew how, sending her life in a new direction. She
was thankful to the unknown forces offering her the chance of a
lifetime, for guiding her in a direction she would have never
seen alone. This path was for her and Mulder to share, to
explore, to love.
She believed.
In the middle of the night.
~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~
Feedback is appreciated at hidinginthelight@hotmail.com
Thanks for reading!
~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~*~X~
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