TITLE: Natural Progressions

AUTHOR: PD

DISCLAIMER: Can I borrow the keys to the show, Chris?
I won't go to any FBI balls, I promise to make a full
stop at most cliches and I will try not to dangle my
participles at the nice FBI agents.

CLASSIFICATION: VRHA

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: Nope

ARCHIVAL: Upon request

SUMMARY: Scully writes a list and has a little wine.
Mulder is a sleepy boy. And there's a Broadway revue
in Scully's refrigerator.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I had to take a little time out from a
long piece I'm writing. (For those of you keeping
tabs, I'm almost done.) So, I dug this out of my hard
drive - it was stuck in some gum - and finished it.
Ahh, Juicyfruit.

Okay, I admit it. I love hearing from you.
pdryder@earthlink.net

All stories can be found at
http://home.earthlink.net/~pdryder/





Natural Progressions



By PD



The end of her pencil hesitated for the briefest
moment before she put it down on paper. The internal
battle waged on. Thought patterns ran amok and dove
for foxholes as neurons fired upon them in unrelenting
fury. It was over before blood was shed. Thank God.
Forever and ever amen. Scully's pencil hit the paper
and scribbled the words under the 'pro' column: 'He
makes me feel great in bed.'

One corner of her mouth turned up in a grin and she
shot a glance toward the bedroom door. She did not
want him to see her doing this. But she felt sure that
he would not be waking up any time soon. They had made
love twice and had attempted a third time. They fell
asleep nuzzling each other's faces. The last thing
Mulder mumbled before he conked out was, "Baseballs
keep grass in your face, baby..."

She pondered that for a good hour before she gave up
and got out of bed.

"God," she whispered and dumped her forehead onto her
waiting hands. Why was she making this ridiculous list
anyway? Scully sighed as she heaved herself off the
chair and shuffled into the kitchen. She opened the
refrigerator and stared at its contents.

One arm slung over the door, the other braced on the
edge of the counter, she stared at a jar of pimentos
she bought in 1997 until she was sure she saw one of
the red strands doing the Macarena. She reached for an
opened bottle of white wine and closed the door before
the leftover fettuccini from Nino's decided to offer
an impromptu aria.

Glass and wine in hand, she padded into the living
room and sat back down at her desk. Her list mocked
her as she took a sip of wine. The blank page with the
words 'pro' and 'con' written at the top. Blank except
for that bit about him being good in bed. She took
another sip of wine and picked up her pencil. She
began to make little curly cues around the 'p' and the
'c'.

The truth was, she was having a very difficult time
coming up with tangible good things and she resolutely
refused to put down a 'con' before she filled up the
'pros'. She was well on her way with one. So, he's
good in bed. She took another sip of wine and stared
at a crack in the plaster. "That's a plus."

"What's a plus?"

Scully's head whipped around. "Mulder. God, you scared
me."

"Sorry," he mumbled around a yawn. He stumbled behind
her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I woke
up."

Scully's hand crept out to cover the paper before her.
"You okay?"

"Yeah." He kissed the top of her head. "What are you
doing up?"

"Do you want something to help you sleep?"

"No. I'll go back to sleep when I go back to bed. What
are you doing up?"

"I know you, Mulder. Now that you're up, you're up.
Sure you don't want something? I've got sleeping pills
in the medicine chest."

"Quit pushing the drugs, Scully."

"Warm milk?"

He tilted her head back to see her face. "What are you
doing up?"

"Just thinking." She crooked a finger and beckoned his
face lower. Their lips touched in a soft upside-down
kiss. "You give a girl a lot to think about, Mulder."
She smiled and brushed her hand across his cheek.



Mulder pulled back as she stood. She crumpled the
paper in her fist and brushed her hand down his
shoulder. "Come on. Let's go back to bed."

"Wait."

She turned to him. "Milk?"

He shook his head with a smile. "Keep thinking."

Frowning, she watched him move into the living room
and sprawl on the couch. "I'll just be over here if
you need me."

"Mulder, what are you doing? Come back to bed with
me."

He slung his forearm over his eyes. "You were
thinking. I interrupted you."

She stepped slowly - hesitantly - toward the couch.
She glanced at the crumpled paper in her hand as she
approached him. "You didn't interrupt me."

"I want to help."

Her throat went dry. "Help with what?"

"With the 'cons'."

Scully's eyes closed and her lips thinned in
self-admonishment. "Mulder..."

"Don't feel bad, Scully." He sat up and looked at her
over the back of the couch. "It's right. You should be
doing that. I didn't mean to pry. I just saw it."

"I didn't mean for you to."

"I know. Come over here."

Scully shambled around the couch and slumped down next
to Mulder. She stared at his bare knee.

He chuckled softly. "I suppose it's a good sign that
there are no 'cons' there, yet. And I'm flattered that
you saw fit to head the top of your list with my
skills in the sack."

"Mulder. Please don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't be sarcastic about this. I'm sorry you saw
this." She tossed the wad of paper onto the coffee
table. "I'm sorry I started it to begin with."

He shook his head. "I'm not being sarcastic, Scully. I
meant what I said. It's something you should be
doing."



"In my head, maybe. Not on paper for you and the world
to see. They're just my thoughts. You know me. I make
lists. It's what I do."

"Frankly speaking, Scully, I don't mind if the world
knows that I'm great in bed." She turned to him and he
offered a smile. "It's what's not on that list that
I'd prefer you keep between us."

Scully heaved a sigh.

"I mean it. I want to help."

"Help? You can't, Mulder. It's too much."

"Exactly how long is that 'con' list in your head,
Scully?"

"It's -- substantial."

"Oh."

"But it's not what you think it is, Mulder. It's a lot
of things that are -- that I'm awkward about. They're
not specifically things about you. I mean, they are,
but they're things that I personally have to learn to
deal with because they're part of who you are."

Scully leaned forward and rested her elbows on her
knees. "Dammit."



"What am I supposed to do?"

"I'm not asking you to do anything." She twisted her
body next to him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
"These aren't things I need you to change about
yourself, Mulder. You don't have to make any great
sacrifices."

"Yippee for me."

"This list - is about me, Mulder. These things all
involve you, but for the most part, they're just about
me."

"A little self-absorbed, are we, Scully?"

"Don't make fun, Mulder. This is important. I've got
some - issues. Not a lot, but some of these hang-ups
and neuroses - sometimes you feed right into them.
Some of the things you do affect me in a negative way
solely because of who I am and not because what you do
is necessarily wrong. It's not right either, but..."
She shrugged.

Mulder raised his eyebrows. "Are you absolving me of
any responsibility for the gory parts of this
relationship, Scully? Because if you are, I'd like to
protest."

She smiled. "I didn't say there weren't some things
you couldn't change. Eventually."

He rubbed his hands together. "Oh, good. Now, we're
getting somewhere. Tell me."

She squinted her eyes and scrutinized him. "No."

"Why not? I'm Mr. Self-Improvement these days, Scully.
Didn't you hear?"

"This is not about you, Mulder."

"I hate it when you say that."

"It's true. And I'm not about to sit here at three
o'clock in the morning and spew out a lot of things
that will only make you feel bad."

He sat up and rubbed her knee. "Is your inability to
tell me my faults at three a.m. one of your issues,
Scully? Because you do it pretty well at the office."

"You're making fun of me."

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I'm serious."

"I do not point out your faults at the office. Any
criticism I have of you that you hear at work strictly
pertains to the work, Mulder." She shrugged. "I
thought you knew that."

He shrugged in return. "Ditching?"

She smiled. "Actually, you don't really do that much
any more, do you?"

"And you never literally kick and scream, but I do
drag you along."

"I'm never unwilling if that's what you mean. If I
didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't."

"Are we still talking about work?"

She stared into his eyes, leaned forward and kissed
him softly. "Sometimes, it's the same thing."

They stared at one another. "Tell me, Scully."

She kissed him softly again. "Tell you what?" Another
kiss.

"Tell me about the fodder within me that I unknowingly
heap upon your heaving neuroses." She grimaced and he
chuckled as he pecked her on the lips. "I make you a
basket case, Scully. Admit it."

"Only a mild one. To be full blown, I'd have to learn
basket weaving. I don't do basket weaving."

"I understand it's soothing."

She heaved a sigh and hauled her body over his. "I
prefer working with clay." She closed her eyes.

After a long moment of silence from the woman using
him as a mattress, Mulder closed his eyes. As he began
to drift off, Scully whispered, "Sometimes, you hurt
me."

When his eyes opened, he found her staring into them,
her chin resting on her hands folded over his chest.
She smiled with apologetic eyes.

"Your have an enormous capacity for guilt, Mulder.
Most of it misplaced. All that guilt you carry around
keeps me from telling you how I feel sometimes.
Because I know it will hurt you. But by not being able
to tell you things, it hurts me. No one could ever
hurt you more than you hurt yourself - except maybe me
- and that's a lot to be conscious of. But I am
conscious of it and as a result, I keep things in.
Things I desperately want to tell you. My neurosis,
Mulder, of being more able to hurt myself than you is
a part of our relationship that I have to deal with on
a day to day basis."

Mulder was silent as he stared at the corner of the
coffee table. She brushed her hand through his hair.
"You know that stupid saying, 'you always hurt the
ones you love'?" He nodded. "Well, I can't do that. I
mean, I think I have at times, but it hurts me when it
happens. It's an endless, awful cycle that I wish we
could break away from, but I just don't think we ever
will. So, we work around it. And we play around it."
She smiled. "But one day, Mulder, you might find me
screaming at you for no good reason. When that
happens, I assure you, there will be a good reason. Or
a thousand little insignificant reasons. It's just the
way I work when confronted with the way you work."

Mulder sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth and
gnawed. "Couldn't we just have sex instead?"

Scully's lips thinned and she thumped him on the
chest. "Okay, that's something you can change right
now, Mulder. You pull some flippant remark out of a
hat to lighten the mood, when the mood really doesn't
need to be lightened. Why do you do that?"

He shrugged.

"And that!" She thumped his chest again. "You went to
Oxford and graduated with honors and in all your
brilliance, all you can think to do is shrug?!"

"Is this it, Scully? Is this where you let me have
it?"

Scully sighed dramatically. "You're baiting me."

"No, I'm not. Really. But I don't need you to protect
me from myself, Scully. If you're pissed off at me,
then let me have it. Take a bite out of my ass. I mean
it."

"Weren't you listening? I can't do that. I can't just
dump on you to make me feel better."

Mulder played with the strands of her hair dangling in
his face. "So, what then? We're at an impasse?"

"That's what the list was about, Mulder. Just making
sense of it. That's all. It's part of why I have a
journal, too. A personal journal. And that's not
something I'm inclined to share, so don't ask."

"I wouldn't have."

She nodded and nudged his chin forward with her own.
"I've -- we've begun sharing an awful lot with each
other, Mulder." She rested her chin on his. "But there
are still some things I need to keep private. Like
that list. That was private."

"I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't mean to see it." She sighed. "And
part of me feels good about having told you about it.
But I won't do that all the time. Please don't expect
it. When I'm ready to tell you something, I will."

Mulder smiled sleepily and nodded. She kissed him and
grinned when he yawned. "Sleepy?"

"Yeah."

"Come back to bed, now?"

He yawned again. Scully slid off his body and tugged
on his hand. He rose reluctantly. "Come on, sleepy
boy. Beddy-bye."

She led him into the bedroom and he tumbled into bed
after her. She tossed a leg and an arm over him and
settled in.

"Scully?"

"Mm."

"I know you didn't have to," he mumbled around a yawn,
"but thank you for telling me."

"Welcome."

"And I wouldn't - I wouldn't ever ask for," his words
stretched around another yawn, "for any revelations
like that, but if you need... need to tell me some...
something, I'll listen."

She smiled. "Thank you, swee -, Mulder."

The corners of Mulder's mouth turned up into a soft
smile. He heard her sigh. "After a while," he
whispered in the darkness, "it just comes naturally.
'Night, baby," and he drifted off to sleep.

She opened her eyes and grinned at him. She scratched
the hair on his chest affectionately. "'Night,
poopyhead."

END

Was there really any point to this? No, not really. I
just had all these words I wanted to use so I thought
I'd string them together with some of that punctuation
stuff. ;)
************