Disclaimer: This work contains characters and situations of the televi- sion series "The X-Files", which are the creations and intellectual property of Chris Carter, Ten-Thirteen Productions, and FOX Broadcasting Company. The author makes no claim to ownership over these elements, and this work should be distributed only in a free manner without promoting monetary gain. Classification: S R A Rating: R for a sedate sexual situation. Warning: Definite MSR. UST. Major Scully Angst. Mulder Angst. If you don't wish to see Mulder and Scully finding solace in each other's arms don't go any further. You have been warned. Summary: Scully faces a moment of crisis which leads her to question her life choices. Mulder tries to help his partner find the answers she is seeking. *************************************************************************** THE MIDNIGHT RAIN By: Deborah L. Wells 1/1 The sky was crying tonight, with small tears of passing time. Whispering of spirits forlorn and of life's seconds wasted. It called to her in a forced moment of melancholy. She moved closer to the open window. The gauzy curtain fabric teased across her face. She leaned into it further to be received within its soothing touch. She closed her eyes. Soft droplets from the slanted sheets of gentle rain just outside the window completed their journey, as they alighted onto her face. She could feel the cool moisture even through the curtain material. She smiled sadly as she welcomed the sensation. Only a small token of her presence in this life. But sometimes she wished to be reminded of it. It was too easy to forget. Most especially during times such as this. When she felt so lost. So alone. She contemplated staying here forever. It could be enough. More than enough. She didn't need anything more. Save maybe one thing. A terrace. Where she could bridge the last barrier between herself and the night's storm just by stepping over the threshold to become one with the rain. She shivered, as she ran her hands across the flesh of her upper arms, and then sighed. It was foolishness she knew. But her heart would hear nothing of sanity and reason. She turned, quiet and slow, but with pur- pose from the window. Letting the curtain that had bathed her face float across her departing form like the silky strands of a spider's web. She crossed the darkened apartment. Her bare feet passed noiselessly on their quest. She had become seized with a sudden urgency that almost frightened her as she commanded her shaking fingers to work the locks and bolts. She flung the door open. It rebounded back and hit the neighboring wall with a loud bang. But she didn't care. She ran. Quick. Into the waking storm. Only when she reached the sidewalk in front of her building did she stop. The light drizzle had transformed into a steady downpour. Within seconds her copper penny hair had turned dark with heavy wetness. It hung in dripping bands against her scalp. Her clothes molded with the water to fit every curve of her body. She lifted her head upwards to the midnight sky, as she raised her arms out to her sides. She turned slowly with tiny steps forming an enclosed circle around herself. Around and around. Again and again. Thunder clapped loud and ominous in the distance. Shortly thereafter lightening flashed. It illuminated for scant seconds her shadow against the building. Who was this lost shadow soul, she wondered fleetingly. She stopped her motion then, as her hands dropped to her sides. She knew now what it was she had been fleeing from to- night. Cruel irony in the discovery. He searched for it, and here she ran from it. The truth. The truth was herself. She was that dark soul mirrored back in the shadow. The malignancy of herself had been eating away at her being day by day, minute by minute. Until she was left with only the outer casing of what had once been for her a normal existence. She had made her choices. Turned at her crossroads. And now she was paying for her folly. The piper was demanding his piece of gold. But she had no more to give. She sank to her knees on the sodden earth before her. Her tears combined with the falling rain. She knew she had reached the final crossroad in her life. Because she had no more tomorrow's to borrow against. And the today's had been lost to her for a long time. She covered her face with her hands, as her shoulders heaved to the march of her sonnet of torment. Through the slits of her fingers she could see the faint illumination of headlights. Her heart leaped like ignited kindling into her throat. She had hoped he wouldn't, but a part of her knew he would come. He would not accept her decision without a confrontation. But she wasn't ready. She was far too weak now. It would be too simple to lose the resolve it had taken the brittle pain of introspection to gather. Still she knew with certainty that he would not let go of her that easy, as they had traveled beyond the time for civilized good-byes. She rose unsteady as he stepped out of his car. He approached and she retreated, step for step. Her eyes darted wildly in different directions looking for escape. He paused just yards from where she stood. Almost immediately becoming as drenched as she was. She felt like a trapped animal. She could make out the crumpled sheet of writing paper balled into his fist. The blue lines of ink merging and melting under the rain's barrage. Her letter. Her careful words bleeding away, much like her soul had been for so many months now. She had taken the coward's way, and had left the letter with reception when she had left the office hours ago. She knew he would stay there long after she had gone. A leave of absence. Time. It was all she had asked of him. He owed her that much. Why, she thought fleetingly. Why couldn't he respect her wishes and stay away? In her mind he housed the summation of all her fears, and she could not face her fears tonight. She ran away from him with a sprint of speed that caught him unaware. She put almost a block between them before she could hear him behind her. His heavy footfalls causing small tidal waves of water to spiral into the air from the many puddles he disturbed. She was fast, made even more so by the depths of her desperation. But he was faster. She felt his hands grabbing her as she was pulled back sharply by the material of her shirt. The collar strained tight against her neck. She cried out in anguish and frustration as the jolting stop in forward momentum caused them both to tumble to the ground. Rolling together until they finally came to a rest. She immediately began to struggle as he moved quickly to restrain her from further flight. She flailed and fought against him until he was forced to straddle her hips. He then grabbed her wrists and pinned them down on opposites sides of her head. But even this use of force was tinged with as much gentleness as he could allow without letting go of her. Their chests heaved from the combined efforts of their exertion. The lightening flashed with a silvery glow around them. She could see his face clearly, hovering over hers. The droplets cascading over his features and then falling onto her. It seemed natural somehow to be sharing the rain in this manner. They shared everything else. Some- times even seeming to breathe in tandem. But she couldn't allow her- self to share anymore. She had given too much over time. There was nothing left of herself to sacrifice. She could no longer remember where she ended and he began. Her identity closely followed his like the letters of the alphabet. There was no her without him anymore. The sky colored dark again. But not before she was able to see his eyes. Conflicting and changing. Mixtures of pain and worry, but surrounded always by his love and concern for her. Always. Her tears began their trek again. She turned her head to the side trying to hide her shame now. But he would know. She was even sure he could isolate exactly which tears fell from the sky, and which were torn from her heart. She could hide nothing from him. There was no use in trying. She went slack beneath him. So tired. So very tired. After a moment he lifted his weight from her body. She felt a sudden loss of something she knew she had never really possessed in the first place. But still. When he moved away only then could she feel the cold of the night. The bite of the rain. Her lips began to tremble uncontrollably with her insight into the compressing feeling of total emptiness. He reacted to her deepening distress by reaching for her and gathering her close to him. He was and would always be her shelter from the storm. This storm and others, most of which had nothing whatsoever do do with the rain. His arms met behind her back, locking her firmly within his embrace. She settled into this quiet intimacy, silently seeking his offer of comfort now. While at the same time loathing herself for her own weak- ness. The rain battered them from all angles, but neither felt the sting. Nor cared. His movements were gentle. Slow but strong. He cradled her in his arms, lifting her from the ground. She held onto him tightly. Together in this fashion they made the journey home. They were a strange sight, lighted only by the midnight sun, and the occasional flashes of lighten- ing to mark their way. When they reached her apartment they found the door still stood wide open, just as she had left it in her hasty retreat. They entered and he kicked the door shut behind him. He bypassed the light switch, and she was grateful for this favor. He moved about in the dark interior with the ease of memory that could only be attributed to intimate knowledge. Was there nothing, she wondered, that he didn't know of her? He carried her still. Afraid perhaps that she would run away from him again if given the chance. The icy fingers of the midnight rain had caught up with them at last, as it manifested into violent shivers which racked their chilled bodies. He carried her into the bath- room. He stopped and she slid down against him until she stood once more on her own two feet. A shaky foundation as of late. She could monitor his actions in the darkness guided by sound. He turned on the facet of her shower. He was but a dark outline in front of her. Nothing more. She could feel the foggy dampness now from the steam rising to fill the air from the running water. Then she felt his strong hands begin to move hesitantly over her body as he began removing her drenched clothing piece by piece. She was spent emotionally and physically. She had lost all energy connected with thought or action. She didn't object to his ministerings, but assisted him only when absolutely necessary. When directed she raised her arms above her head so that he could pull her shirt up and then off. She was as a child again. Helpless. Dependent. It was a role foreign to her. One that she had thought left behind her years ago. It was hard to let go of the tough facade she had worked so long and hard to create. Yet in one bitter crisis she would now lose it all. He would never be able to see her in the same light again. They would never be able to go back to what they had been before. She grieved inwardly at the loss. She stood now before him completely exposed. In all possible ways. She couldn't see his expression in the dark, but prayed there wasn't pity waiting there. Anything but that. He reached out taking her hand in his, guiding her towards the waiting stream of warming water. She let him. But when he moved to leave she refused his purpose, pulling him into the cascade along with her. He came willingly to her wrapping his arms tightly around her body. For many healing minutes they stood together under the water in each other's arms. He traced a repeated path with his hand from the top of her head down to her neck in a soothing manner. She buried her face against his chest, still covered by his soaking clothes. She reached to pull his shirt tail from his pants, unbuttoning it from the bottom up, until he was able to just shrug it from his shoulders. It fell to the bottom of the shower stall with a smack. She began to place light kisses against the skin of his chest until he reached down and cupped her chin, raising her face to meet his. He bent his head forward slowly, as he kissed her ever so gently on the lips. When they finally parted he moved away from their embrace. He pushed her back to arm's length. She was just able to see in shadow outlines that he was shaking his head slightly. He then turned from her and left, leaving her alone in the shower. She accepted his denial of her desire with quiet pride. Her earlier thoughts that their relationship would never again be the same had been realized, but not as she had expected. The fear that had accompanied the thought was baseless, because instead of growing apart they had just merged closer together. She had been wrong to seek escape from him. This night she had offered her body to him, without strings. And he had wanted her as well, he could not hide that fact. But he had too much respect for her to allow the gift of herself in this way. He would not take advantage of a moment of despair. He would rather wait than chance her regrets in the morning. He could wait, and so could she. For the time when it would be right for both of them. If ever that day would arrive. Hours later he sat wrapped in blankets in a chair overlooking her sleeping form. Keeping vigil. He would wait for the nightmare that would be coming. If not tonight than tomorrow or the next. Either way he would be here for her when it came. This had been her first anniversary. The first was al- ways the hardest to cross. There would be many more to come, but nothing compared to the pain of the first. He knew this from experience. But unlike her, there had been no one to see him safely through the journey. He had decided long ago that he would not allow her to go through it alone. He saw the beginning signs months ago. He followed the course of her despair. Helpless to lessen her burden. Until tonight. One year ago today her sister had died. THE END 1/1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ XXXXXXXXXXXXXX FREE SPEECH IS OUT THERE! XXXXXXXXXXXXXX ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ....'but here was heroism, the kind that honor sings; the courage to be lovely, and smile..in spite of things' *********************************************************