Title: Eros, Filos, Agape. (The Ring)

Author: Brekke (elseheavens@hotmail.com)

Catergory: MSR. Fluff.

Summary: Scully finds something Mulder's been hiding.

Disclaimer: They ain't mine.

Notes: I'm sure a hell of a lot of fanfic writers have 
considered Mulder doing pre-planning of this kind, I just
wanted to explore the concept a little further. And see how
little old Squirrel feels about the whole thing.


***


I've had the ring for years now. I just never dreamed Scully
would ever find it.

I bought it after her abduction, a few weeks after she was 
returned. On a whim really. I'd become so used to having a 
constant reminder of her hanging around my neck in the form of
that fragile gold necklace, that I found I missed it when it
was gone. 

Don't get me wrong, I've never been so happy to return anything
to it's rightful owner as that necklace. I've been returning 
that necklace for years now, and the feeling that action 
instils is me is still as strong as that very first time I 
returned it to Scully. 

But somehow in giving it back, I felt almost deprived of a part
of Scully that I always wanted to share. I never *planned* on 
replacing it. I figured that if it was meant to be mine, Scully
would be the one to replace it. But then I found that ring.

It was in an antique jewellery store in DC. I passed it almost 
every day on my numerous runs, but never actually entered it. 
I knew the display in the window like the back of my hand,
though I'd never actually looked at it. It'd always amazed me
how a shop like that had ever stayed in bussiness since as
far as I could tell no one ever bought anything - at least not
if the window display was anything to judge by. 

That window display...I swear, in all the years I lived in 
Arlington, it never changed. There was always the same pieces
in the window, the same necklaces, the same rings, the same
price tags, hell, even the same specks of dust. Which is why
as soon as the ring appeared, I noticed it.

It was such a simple elegant ring. A simple gold band splitting
in two at the crest and winding around to cradle an deeply 
colored emerald. It reminded me of Scully right away. Stark,
simple, maybe even bland at a passing glance. But looking 
closer, there was a spark of light in that emerald that burned.
It wasn't reflected light - an illusion meant to decieve - but
a single green flame whose source was indefineable.

A fire. Like Scully's fire.

I didn't hesitate for a moment. I walked right into the store
and bought the ring. I didn't even wince at the price, though
I'm sure Scully wondered why I was a little strapped for cash
for the next month or so. 

At first I refused to let the ring out of my sight. I didn't 
want to be far away from it for any amount of time. I couldn't 
bring myself to wear it on my finger, though. Perhaps the 
reason wasn't so obvious to me at the time, but deep down I 
think I knew there was only one finger I wanted that ring on 
and it sure as hell wasn't one of mine.

So eventually I settled for wearing it on a piece of string 
around my neck until even that seemed wrong. I felt as though
the ring was a part of Scully and that by taking that ring and
tying it around my neck, I was taking a part of Scully. A part
that should be given at will rather than stolen unknowingly.

Finally I took the ring and placed in back in it's box and kept
it in a drawer at my desk in my apartment. Where it's been 
almost ever since. 

Sometimes, in my darker moments, when something's been wrong, 
like when Scully was missing, or when she was diagnosed with 
cancer or things have been particularly estranged between us,
I used to take the ring out and just gaze at it, sometimes 
cradling it in my hand, sometimes just looking at it. In the
worst times it always gave a small bit of comfort.

That awful time when Scully's cancer had mestatisized and those 
long dreadful days she spent in the hospital, I took to wearing
it around my neck once more. Until that night before the 
hearing, I did the unforgiveable, I took the ring to an 
engraver and had the words: "I love you, Scully" engraved
on the inside. Once her cancer went into remission, the ring
returned to it's case and my drawer.

Until Scully found it.

She'd come over to my apartment to muddle through expense 
reports with me. Once again we'd gone - well, *I'd* gone - well
over budget and we both had until nine am Monday morning to 
explain it or land ourselves up the proverbial scatological 
creek.

We'd been trying to explain the expense of yet *another* mobile
phone, and I had mentioned off-handedly that I thought the 
receipt might be in my desk drawer. It hadn't even occured to 
me what else might be in my desk drawer, until I'd glanced up
from the claim form I was filling in to find Scully staring at
an object in her hand. 

"Scully, wha-" I had begun before realizing what it is she must
be looking at. And sure enough, still nestled in it's black
velvet case, was the ring I had bought after her abduction.
I groaned inwardly. She was going to ask questions, I knew it.

Scully barely noticed my consternation, so enrapt was she with
the ring. "Mulder," she breathed. "This is beautiful, where'd
did you get it?" a note of negativity that could've been 
anything from jealousy to suspicion crept into her tone "*Why* 
do you have it?"

"I, ah..." I trailed off, racking my brains for a suitable 
excuse as to why I have a woman's ring in the top drawer of
my desk. Gift. X-file. Family Heirloom. "I, ah, bought it." I
finished lamely with the truth. For a man who spends his life
searching for the truth, I really do find it at some awkward
moments.

Scully's eyes immediately left the ring and sought out mine.
"You bought it?" she asked incredulously. Then something seemed
to occur to her and her incredulity was replaced with a 
Scully-Emotion I've seen way too much of - pain. "Was.." she
paused to clear her throat. "Was it Diana's?" she asked almost
politely, so politely it almost killed me.

I denied that one immediately. "No. No, of course not." I shook
my head vehemently. "No, I just saw it in an antique shop and
bought it." I finished with a sigh. 

A tension seemed to be released from Scully. The untrained eye
would of missed it, but I've been watching Scully for years,
and at my comment she visibly relaxed. Her attention was drawn
back to the ring. "You bought it from an antique shop?" she
asked with her usual dose of sceptism. 

She reached out and plucked the ring from it's case and I 
winced at the inevitable discovery that I knew would follow. 

"Why would you buy a ring like this, Mulder?" Scully continued,
excercising her skepticism. "Who were you planning on giving 
it-" she broke off suddenly, and I buried my face in my 
hands, knowing she must have found the inscription. When she 
spoke again, her voice was filled with realisation. "Oh."

I groaned into my hands, then pulled my head up, forcing myself
to meet her gaze. "Scully, I'm sorry, I just-" I began but she
cut me off.

"No, no, it's.." she trailed off, her fingers tracing the edge
of the ring lovingly. "It's just I don't know what it means."
She finished.

That wasn't what I had expected. Pity maybe. Anger. Disgust.
I certainly hadn't expected confusion. "It means I love you, 
Scully." I told her in disbelief. Which part of 'I love you' 
didn't she understand?

She shook her head. "No, I..." she trailed off, sighing and 
slipping into a Scully persona I know well - Professional
Scully. "The love bit I understand, Mulder. It's what *kind*
of love that I don't understand."

I gaped at her in bafflement. "What kind of love?" I echoed
dumbly.

She nodded emphatically. "Eros, filos or agape, Mulder?"

Sexually. Brotherly. Religiously. Christ, I didn't know. "All
of the above?" I suggested weakly and both her eyebrows shot
up. 

I groaned. This was not going well. "Look, I love you, Scully."
I stumbled on. "I'm *in* love with you. And no matter how hard 
you try, Scully, that isn't something that can be filed, 
catergorized or easily referenced." 

Both her eyes had widend substantially and her jaw had fallen
open slightly at my declaration. I reluctantly pulled my eyes
away from her and glared moodily at the wall, steeling myself
for the painful lecture that I knew must be coming. 

The "I'm-flattered-but-I-don't-like-you-that-way" lecture, the 
"This-is-inappropriate-for-a-working-relationship" lecture, or
worst of all, the "I-can't-take anymore-of-you-Mulder-and-I'm-
leaving-you" lecture.

It didn't matter which one was coming, I knew that every one
of them would going to cut me. It was just a question of how 
much and which way.

A moment later I felt her soft lips press gently against my
clenched jaw and I spun around to face her in suprise. She was
smiling a slight little mysterious smile that sent my heart
into flip flops and unleashed a dangerously hope deep inside
of me.

"I love you too, Mulder," she told me softly.

There *had* to be a catch to this. "Eros, filos or agape?" I
asked her suspiciously.

She laughed. "Paranoid," she acused me affectionately. "All 
of the above." She gestured to the ring in her other hand. "Can
I wear this?" she asked me.

I blinked, then clumsily fumbled for the ring with my right 
hand, grasping her hand with my other one. I slipped the ring
onto her slender finger and met her eyes. "You do know what 
this means don't you?" I asked her hesitantly.

She cocks an eyebrow at me suggestively. "Frohicke gets all
those videos that aren't yours?" she asks innocently.

I laugh, waggling my eyebrows at her. "Well that too," I 
concede. "But I was thinking about the more contractual part
of the mutual agreement." I tell her, suddenly nervous, despite
everything. "You *do* understand, don't you?"

She smiles at me beautifically and at last I hear the two 
little words I've been waiting to hear from Scully longer than
I've waited for the three she has just divulged. "I do."

***
END
***

Repeat after me: We love fluff. 
                 We love fluff. 
                 We love fluff.

And we'll send Brekke lots of feedback.

Whoops! He he, where did *that* come from? It certainly
would be apprectiated, though. Why else do I write it?

Take care,

Brekke (elseheavens@hotmail.com)