TITLE: Matters Of The Heart I AUTHOR: Dx CATEGORY: SRA(H) RATING: R SPOILERS: a little 'Fire' SUMMARY: Mulder has an accident at work, and finds himself having a strange reaction to Scully's sympathy. Written in first person. (Well, it's a diary, I'd like to know what other format it should be written in...) DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be, just borrowing, don't sue. (What? Not creative enough? It's the *story* you're supposed to be interested in.) DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere. Let me know where first though, 'kay? FEEDBACK: God... would begging be of any use? I need feedback on this one *desperately*. NOTES: This is for Alisha. Thank you for helping me through my recent rough patch, you may not think you did much, but you were great. (Not to mention the fact that you gave me enough confidence to post this.) Love ya! Here it is...:::biting nails in nervous anticipation::: =================================== Matters Of The Heart I Journal of Fox Mulder _____________________ February 19th 1997 How do I explain this in words? How do I actually sit down with a pen and paper and write about what happened today? I don't know where to begin. Well, maybe I'd better take note from Julie Andrews and start at the very beginning. It's Scully. NOTE - How come everything I write in here lately ends up being relevant to Scully? Is she the only person in my life worth writing about? Oh shit, I don't want to answer that... Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by my own schizophrenic rationalization: It's Scully. Well rather it's me. It's what happened today at the office... uh...with Scully. So I guess it's about her after all. Oh dammit, I'm rambling. Why did I start keeping this fucking journal anyway? It's supposed to help you sort things out and come to terms with what you're feeling. It just makes me more screwed up. I sit here and analyze everything I write. I search for hidden meanings, indications of insanity. As if trying to stop myself from becoming even more fucked than I am after today isn't insane enough! I think I'd better get on with it before I strap myself into a nice straight jacket and march on down to the nearest sanitarium. Okay, first of all I'd just like to state- I AM NOT A COMPLETE INSENSITIVE BASTARD. I'm just a little dense when it comes to the fairer sex's psyche that's all. I didn't mean to say what I did. It just...slipped out. One minute I was desperately trying to come up with something to say and the next I'd said that and I didn't even realize what I'd done until she slapped me. Scully actually slapped me! And I deserved it. Hell, I better than deserved it. She should have run my testicles through the paper shredder. Well... not that I wish she had... I'm kinda fond of my genitals...but I was kinda fond of Scully, that didn't stop me from doing what I did. Whatever... I came into the office around 6:45a.m. I booted up my MAC, made myself some coffee and finished off the report on the recurring apparition of the little girl in Tennessee. It didn't take me more than an hour because I'd already spent 3 hours writing the damn thing. Fuck knows how many pages of high class, profoundly sensible, and unequivocal documentation. For once, I might actually get away without a 'bend over grab your ankles' session with Skinner. You have know idea how disturbing it is to be able to see your bald boss's red face glaring at you from between your legs... I sent it to the printer just before I realized when I'd plugged it in after changing the wire in the socket (This fucking building really pisses me off, even the damn wiring doesn't work. Wait a minute, maybe it was a bugging devise... I'll check later.) I'd plugged the wrong extension cable into the adapter, the one that blew all the circuiting. I jumped out of my seat to detach it before I set the entire office ablaze. As I did so I caught my foot in the cable that ran from the monitor to the socket and tripped, knocking my coffee onto the computer. It sparked, but luckily, I pulled out the cable from the printer when I tripped. I jumped up to see if I could salvage my computer, and in the process, touched the back of my machine. This, surprise, surprise, shot 'n' volts of electricity passing through my body and sent me flying across the other end of the room. As if that wasn't bad enough, I hit the table with the OHP and it fell off, striking my head then landing on my chest. Needless to say, I passed out. All this must have been witnessed by Scully, because the next thing I knew she had me lying on my back checking me for broken bones and burns. With a groan, I opened my eyes. Her face was blurry. All I could see was her hair around her head like a nimbus. At first I thought I'd finally gone and killed myself, because there was this fuzzy angel standing over me. Then I thought about who I was and acceded that heaven is the last place I'll go when my time here is up. I could hear a voice. I didn't know it was a voice, just like I didn't comprehend that it was coming from Scully. It was like watching 'Baywatch' - I knew someone or some*thing* somewhere had to be responsible for it, but it wasn't clear who, or what, or *why*? Then it clicked. I knew she was talking to me, I just couldn't understand the words. It was really weird, like I was in some kind of limbo. I began to black out again, then I caught the sound of fear in her voice. It made me snap out of it and I managed to murmur her name. The look of relief that came across her features made me smile despite the pain in my head and ribs. "How are you feeling Mulder?" I could finally interpret the meaning of her speech. " Does it hurt?" Only if I breathed, but that action is kinda imperative for living, right? I knew what I wanted to say, but my brain wasn't getting the message through to my voice. I think I managed to mutter something like "I need to sit up," because I felt her arms go round me and she helped me into a sitting position. My head began to clear, then the *real* pain set in. Everything hurt, and I could feel a warm liquid tickling down my face. I realized the OHP must have gashed my head open. "Mulder? Mulder, how many fingers am I holding up?" She asked me. It took me a moment to register what she'd said. Then I stared at her hand as it swam before me. I blindly reached for her, gripping her wrist in an attempt to steady her arm before I understood that it was my head which was spinning. She slowly came into focus and I counted her fingers. "Three" I finally said, closing my eyes. "I'm okay. I just need a minute to clear my head. I'll be all right." I felt her hand, cool and soft on my face. She does that you know - just touches me for no apparent reason, and well...I suppose I'm guilty of that too. I know I take every opportunity I can to touch Dana Scully - when we're walking down a hall, when I'm talking to her, comforting her. I've instigated little caresses before, and she's returned them, just not the way I'd always like her to. Not to the extent I'd like her to. Like once, a few years back, during the Tooms case, she was wearing the pendant I liked, the amber one that was on the long silver chain. I was talking to her, and I couldn't take my eyes off that pendant just bobbing there between her breasts, so I reached out, and picked it up, my hand brushing against her as I did so. She didn't even flinch when I touched her breasts, not exactly the reaction I had been hoping for. Instead she took my nonchalant reaction to touching her like I was saying I was more interested in the necklace than her. She didn't break the flow of conversation, just followed my hand with her eyes, then put a hand on my ass as we were walking upstairs. Getting me back...or trying to tell me she didn't like my ass...or trying to tell me she *did* like my ass...I don't know, and I guess it doesn't matter really. Anyway, on with the story. "The cut's not too bad," She said, "I think you'll live. You want to go and get checked out at the hospital though? Just to be on the safe side?" Oh sure... 'And how did this little accident happen Agent Mulder? Or can we call you Fox? It's about time we got on first name terms with all our regulars. What is it now.....six gunshot wounds, three car crashes, fourteen concussions, two burns, three stabbings, two cases of hypothermia, one unknown virus of presumed extraterrestrial origin, near drowning, rapid aging disease... and now another knock on the head and near electrocution. The usual room? We didn't bother moving out all your things, we had a feeling you'd be back...' Yes, I really needed that. "I'm okay." I whispered queasily. "Then let me take a look at you properly." She insisted. "I'm fine, Scully. Really." "Trust me Mulder. I'm a doctor." I was so very glad that my sight had returned to normal just in time to catch that rare toothy grin. "Yeah, but your patients are all dead ones." I mumbled. "What was that?" She asked, eyebrows raised. Another Scully quirk I love. I shook my head, and asked her to help me up. She did, hauling me to my feet. I nearly keeled over as the dizziness hit me. "Woah shit!" I stumbled grabbing onto her for support. She gave it to me, steadying me with her small frame and helping me sit down on the chair. Scully asked me if I was sure I was all right. "You could have a concussion." I nodded, unable to speak as the nausea hit me. I sat for a while until I knew if I didn't head for the mens' room soon I'd embarrass myself by puking all over my ridiculously expensive suit. But I could barely walk, and I could feel the bile rising in my throat. I grabbed her hand and she knew what was going to happen because she quickly reached for the small metal wastepaper bin. I spun in the chair and took the trash-can from her, turning away as I collapsed on my knees, retching violently into it. I continued to vomit until I had nothing left to bring up and I was doubling over in painful dry heaves, just vaguely aware of Scully's hands rubbing my back and trying to soothe me. It was only when she moved away to get me some water that I realized she'd been comforting me. I always manage to miss things like that... I took the water she handed me and first rinsed the foul taste from my mouth, spitting into the trash can a few times before taking a slow sip. I felt better, but exhausted and I absentmindedly let her hug me. I collapsed into her embrace, strangely I didn't feel the need to prove to her that I was okay. Which was doubly strange considering I didn't even need comforting. But I just wanted to be close to her, so I didn't move. It was like, when you're a kid, and you wake up in the middle of the night sick. You go downstairs and watch TV until you finally puke and you're all right, but you feel compelled to go and tell your mom. She'd get you a drink and some aspirin, bring you a blanket and some pillows from upstairs and sit with you until you fell asleep. I've been able to cope on my own with getting sick for at least 20 years, and today was no exception. I was just .... hell, I don't know what I was doing. My head was still pounding. "Sshh," She cooed " You're shaking Mulder. It's okay. Calm down." She stroked my hair, ignoring the blood from the small gash. "I'm sorry," I mumbled into her shoulder. "What for?" She asked, still rocking me slightly. I tell you, I've never felt so good after chucking my guts up. "The unpleasant display. You didn't have to see that." "Hey, what are friends for. Besides, it wasn't like you haven't watched me heave all over the place. At least *you* made the bucket." She reached into her pocket, retrieved a stick of gum and unwrapped it before putting it to my lips. "Your breath smells like Charlie's running shoes." She explained. "Hmmm. Remind me to keep well away from your brother's feet if I ever meet him, will you?." I smiled, and opened my mouth to accept the gum. I was still letting her hug me. Then I realized I was enjoying the gentle strokes of her palms over my face, neck and back a little too much. *Way* too much. I could hardly feel the pain in my head and chest anymore, my senses were fully focused on her gentle touches. She smelled so good too, that distinctive sweet-fresh aroma she has. I could feel myself slipping away into another X-rated daydream again. Before I knew what I was doing I was returning her caresses, and she didn't stop. She didn't even flinch or react. I kissed the gentle slope where her neck meets her shoulder, feeling her flinch then, but I don't think it was from surprise. I looked at her. She sat before me, eyes wide and I began to stoop low to kiss her. To touch my lips to hers in a long, passionate smooch. (Okay, so I wasn't thinking about the fact that I had just thrown up. I never actually claimed to be of sound mind, did I?) Just as I was close enough to do it, I pulled away, mumbling my apologies. I slowly stood, happy to find that I'd begun to overcome the dizziness, but unhappy to find that her ministrations and my own thoughts - too vulgar to put unto paper - had brought on a rather noticeable arousal. I had never wanted to be a woman so much in my life. Anyway: "Are you okay?" She asked, rising to her feet. "I..." My voice was high and tight, like someone had my balls in a death grip. I cleared my throat " I'm fine," But I wasn't fine. I was far from being fine. I had been sitting there getting unbelievably turned on by the very innocent motions of comfort from my partner, my best-friend. I was hoping to God that she didn't notice the mother of a hard-on I had. I couldn't cope with an interrogation. My silent invocations were futile however, because her next comment and the path of her gaze told me she'd noticed, and was about to rip me up big-time. "I can see you're feeling better." "Leave me alone Scully." I turned and began to walk away. "Mulder, wait!" She called after me. "I said leave me alone! " I shouted back, "I don't want to talk about it." "I think it might be a sensible thing to do, Mulder don't you?" "I nearly kissed you Scully." "I nearly kissed you. *We* nearly kissed *each* *other*." "No, Scully." I suddenly felt very sick again. Only this time it was from utter disgust at myself. "I didn't know what I was doing. I'm really sorry, okay? I don't want you to think I was going to try anything back there. That's... not the relationship I want us to have together." "Don't tell that to me. Tell that to your--" I turned to glare at her with my best 'Don't go there' expression. She was forgetting we were having this argument in our office, the place with so many bugs and listening devices you'd think it was Conspiracy Central, not a run-down little office in the basement of the J Edgar Hoover Building. "Well, Mulder. Something obviously brought *that* on." She said, unable to hide the amusement from her voice. "Well it was quite obviously you then wasn't it." I spat the words at her. "Look, it's no big deal Scully. Believe me. I didn't mean for that to happen, I wasn't thinking, and luckily I stopped it before anything...transpired." "Not before *something* transpired, Mulder." "Jesus Christ Scully. Will you drop it! I am a normal, heterosexual guy who just happened to be turned on by the way his partner, his very *beautiful* partner happened to be touching him." "Are you saying--" "That I'm attracted to you?" I finished for her " No, Scully. You're a doctor, so you are familiar with bodily functions. If I'm not mistaken, my present condition does not mean that I particularly want to screw you. The way you were touching me turned me on, I'll admit that much." She walked towards me. Oh God, Scully, why the hell did you do that? Why did you come so close to me? Close enough to smell you, touch you... "Are you attracted to me Mulder?" Yes! My mind screamed. Oh God yes! All I want to do is throw you down on this desk and bury myself so deeply in you I'd have to be surgically removed. It took all my will power not to lift her up, tear off her clothes and screw her senseless. I couldn't answer her. I could just look at her. I knew my expression gave it all away, and desperately tried to veil my embarrassment with anger. "What the hell does it matter Scully?!" "Are you?" "I wasn't the only one letting things get a bit hot n' heavy. Perhaps you should be asking yourself the same thing about what you're feeling for me." She didn't say anything, and I turned away again. "It doesn't matter, Scully. " I glanced back at her, my eyes drawn to her lovely ivory skin, her eyes, her shining red hair tied back loosely, and her lips. Those full lips that I had been only moments from kissing a few minutes ago. I thought it was impossible but I felt even more blood rush to my groin. I was almost so painfully hard that I staggered backwards. I just gulped. "Mulder?" "Dammit, Scully. Drop it. For the last time. Just drop it!" I banged my fist on the table, "Just because I was aroused by you, by the way you were holding me, the way you were touching me does not mean anything more than I'm being overridden by hormones today. I'm a guy, Scully. A guy who hasn't gotten laid in quite a while, if you must know, okay? I haven't had sex in ages, and that's all that is bothering me. It doesn't mean anything. It's been so long since I even came close to..." I knew what I was saying made no sense. I knew if I wanted to, I could go out and find someone. I'm not dense. I know I attract attention from the opposite sex. I may have a big nose, but I'm not ugly. Not that ugly anyway. I also know that I could walk into a bar, watch for whose head turns (there are usually a few, I'm not boasting, just stating facts.) and walk up to her. I could introduce myself, ask her if I could buy her a drink and if she seemed the type for a one night stand... I'd invite her back to mine, tell her exactly what I didn't want and I'd be guaranteed a night between the sheets. But I've never really been the type for a one night stand. I've had my fair share, some would say more than my fair share but I've never gone out looking for one. They found me. That's all I care to say about the subject. I've only been with three women since I met Scully. One of them was a kind of one nighter - she died the next day. I don't know what that says about me. None of the others lasted more than a couple of weeks. But three lays in four years is not enough for me. It's not enough for anybody! I continued spewing bullshit about how I was having trouble harnessing my libido. I might as well as said 'Scully, will you be my wife and the mother of my children?' because she just gave me the look. Her patented I-know-everything look. That look nearly sent me over the edge, and all I could do to stop myself from kissing her was shout: "It's nothing personal, Scully. I'm attracted to my cousin, it doesn't mean I'm gonna lay her on top of the thanksgiving turkey this year! Loads of women have done to me what you just did. You're nothing special. It's not a big achievement. I mean, it's not like I'm the first guy in the world to get a hard-on. Hell, what about the pigs in Home, Pennsylvania? And If you think I want to have a sexual relationship with everything that gives me an erection then you have seriously warped ideas about buses." Yeah, Scully was a little confused about that last comment too. I meant the *vibrations* of a bus, not the actual bus itself... Anyhow... I'd lost it. I had totally lost it. I'd slipped into bigoted asshole mode, and there was no way of bringing me back to earth. "Besides!" I hollered. "Why would I want to sleep with someone who was sent to spy on Me?! Would you write it up in your little reports huh, Scully? Would you give me performance ratings? Would you compare me to the other lovers you've had? Oh, I forgot. Prim little Dana Scully, *catholic*, isn't like that. She doesn't fuck you, she just fucks you over! You do know we all call you a prude? Doc. Ice I think is the most particularly suited don't you?" I didn't mean to say it, really I didn't. If I hadn't felt that stinging slap across my face I would have done it myself. I was mortified, and just wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole because I couldn't bare to look at the tears in her eyes. I had an apology right on the tip of my tongue, but I never got to use it. She just whispered "You bastard." And left me standing there. Standing?... Oh great one, Mulder. *Really* loved that one. Hey, you ever think about joining the comedy circuit you great schnozzed geek? How could I do that do her? I'm such a fucking asshole. What I feel for Scully goes beyond attraction. If it was lust I felt for her I would have had her up against the filing cabinet a long time ago. Quench the need and get over it. But I have the feeling that the need I have for Dana Scully could never be satisfied. I love her, for Christ's sake. I LOVE HER. I should have told her that, instead of trying to lie my way out of it. I've asked myself when it started. I honestly can't say. When did I start to feel this way about my partner ? I've been in love...well, I've been attracted to her from the first moment I laid eyes on her petite little frame. When she first walked into my office, exuding high hopes and stubbornness, I nearly fell off my seat. But I hid it with sarcasm - like I did today. She wasn't even my type, whatever that is. I guess I could say Phoebe was my 'type'. Kristen fit that description too - Tall, slender, dark and bad for me. Scully is... well She's Scully. She's good for me. I've never had such a positive influence from a woman in my life. She's loving, good natured, has a good sense of humor - occasionally. She wants to help me, wants the best for me. She cares about me - which is more than I can say for any of the others. At least she did care for me until I resorted to anger and bitchiness to hide my embarrassment. Why did I have to be so cruel? How long have I been wanting to tell her how I feel about her? How the relationship we have at the moment is not enough for me anymore. And I had to go and blow my opportunity. I want to call her. I want to see her. I want to tell her I'm sorry, that I was just embarrassed and in pain and that I want her, need her, love her. Oh great, here come the tears again. Why do women always end up making me cry? Sometimes I wish I was gay, I really do... well, okay, I don't. Not because I'm homophobic or anything, it's just that I get enough trouble from the guys at work as it is. Not to mention the fact that my father would have disowned me and my mother would have had a nervous breakdown. But I'll tell you what I *do* wish - that relationships were just about the primitive emotions - the most important being lust. No love or hate or jealousy to complicate things. It is true though, women always do end up reducing me to tears. I'll never learn. Like Phoebe wasn't enough for one lifetime. She was, and probably still is, the bitch from hell. She took particular pleasure in making sure I was royally screwed for all eternity. When she turned up in my life again after all those years...I can't help but think if that's what made me realize it was Scully I wanted. Phoebe insisted I was in love with Scully, and vice versa. I made it clear I was not, and never would be in love with my partner. I had no hopes of ever getting her into my bed. I didn't even own a bed. It wasn't going to happen, end of story. But Phoebe knew it was bullshit, just as I did. Of course... now I have a bed. But the only thing I do in it is... actually my mother is the only person who's ever slept in it. Anyhow: Phoebe gave me a real hang-up. She didn't offend me, as such, because she was merely insinuating that I have a predilection for becoming too obsessed with things. With people. And I had learned a long time ago not to take her insults to heart. However, I knew she was right. It is true, I really do become fixated. And I hate myself for it. She knew I never really and truly loved her, and that hurt her because I think I was the only person Phoebe has loved. That is why she hurt me- because I couldn't love her, but I was infatuated with her. I was consumed with her. I was under her spell, which was the next best thing for Phoebe. If she couldn't have my heart she wanted my soul... and my body. Sex was the only good thing I got out of our relationship. I was so totally unaware of what I was letting her get away with. But now I'm aware of it, I deal with it as best I can. Granted that's not very well, but I am aware of it. That night, when Phoebe turned up in DC and we went to the party in Baltimore, when she danced with me and we kissed in the hall...I finally thought I might be able to forgive her, to look past her faults, that maybe I actually *was* in love with her, and had been from the start. When I was practically paralyzed with fear in the fire, when I had nearly gotten my stupid self killed ....and Scully was the only one who cared... I realized that I wanted her when I felt her touching me so softly, telling me I was going to be okay. Phoebe disappeared from my fantasies. Scully was the angel who visited me in my dreams in place of the devil that was Phoebe. Corny? Yeah, I know. But this is my journal, If you have a problem with it take it up with one of my multiple personalities. Scully isn't perfect, I know that. She has many, many flaws. Flaws which sometimes outweigh her assets. But I love her. I love the way she trusts me when she's at her most vulnerable. I love the way she makes it so easy for me trust her, trust her with everything. She knows how important she is to me. But I think she believes I love her like a sister. That what I feel for her is some kind of Samantha-by-proxy. I think she believes I trust her like I do because I feel like I have to take the big-brother role in her life. And she's comfortable with that. That's why I hurt her so much today when I said those things. She had just come to terms with the fact that her conceptions of my feelings towards her were wrong, so very wrong. She was going through mild stages of shock. She didn't need me and my warped mind adding to it. I hate myself for what I have done to her. I truly hate myself. Right now, I'm planning on going out and getting unbelievably drunk. With a bit of luck, I'll die of Alcohol Poisoning, or get hit by a train or something equally as merciful so I won't have to go into the office and face Scully tomorrow. I am such a fuck up. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX TITLE: Matters Of The Heart II AUTHOR: Dx CATEGORY: SRA(H) RATING: Strong R (STRONG!) SPOILERS: 'Never Again' SUMMARY: Scully reads Mulder's diary... what more needs to be said? DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never will be, just borrowing, don't sue. (What? Not creative enough? It's the *story* you're supposed to be interested in.) DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere. Let me know where first though, 'kay? FEEDBACK: God... would begging be of any use? I need feedback on this one *desperately*. NOTES: Okay, so here's part 2. Enjoy... (Wishful thinking? ) xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Matters Of The Heart II by Dx ______________________________________ Scully couldn't quite believe what she had just read. Mulder's diary? She didn't even know he kept a diary. He didn't seem the type. Scully felt the stinging ache of remorse at the back of her throat. She hadn't meant to read it. It had just happened. She didn't realize what she was doing until she had finished, and then she couldn't tell whether or not she should feel guilty. But she felt guilty nonetheless. Scully had made the journey over to his apartment to speak with him, to work out what happened this morning at the at office, to apologize, to accept his apology, but chiefly to see how he was. He may have been attempting to hide what he was feeling, but she could see the tears already begin to form in his eyes as she left him there. Not to mention that had been some blow to the head he'd gotten. She was genuinely concerned. When he didn't answer his door she began to walk away. She turned the corner and headed towards the elevator. Then she thought of how badly he'd been affected by the bang on the head at the office, and was consumed by visions of him lying unconscious, choking to death on his own vomit; or bleeding from the nose and ears after a brain aneurysm. She panicked, sprinted back to his apartment and fumbled around in her purse for the set of keys he'd given her. When she finally located them amongst the array of papers, make-up, wallet, credit card booklets and her personal weapon, she hastily opened the door and entered his apartment, calling out for him. No reply. She turned on the lights and scanned her surroundings for any sign of his presence. He wasn't on the sofa - where he usually slept. She figured that maybe he'd finally learned what a bed was for, and made her way into his bedroom, finding it vacant. She decided to try the bathroom. She just hoped to God he wasn't taking a bath or anything and found him in the nude. Not that she'd particularly mind seeing him naked... it was just not what the poor boy needed right then. Well, he wasn't in the bathroom either. He'd gone out. Where? Scully didn't know or particularly care. She was just praying he was okay and wasn't doing anything stupid like going out and picking up some bimbo to satiate his sex-drive. She wasn't quite sure if she was hoping that for his sake or her own. She dumped her bag and coat on the sofa and took off her shoes. Now that she was here, Scully wasn't planning on leaving until Mulder got home and they'd worked this out. At least this way if he did arrive home with a woman he'd only just met she'd be able to save him from making a mistake. Unless they decided to go back to her place... She didn't want to think about Mulder with another woman. But Scully knew why she was feeling this. She had known for a long time. She was in love with Fox Mulder. Asshole he may be but she couldn't help but adore him. What woman could resist that puppy dog expression and those eyes - the cool, sharp intimidating green and the soft, warm, rich, bottomless liquid brown that she could induce in him more often than she'd ever seen anyone accomplish? She had been more than a little surprised to hear him tell her that he hadn't been to bed with a woman in over two years. He got plenty of offers, she knew that. Scully had certainly noticed the admiring looks thrown his way, of course, whether Mulder had noticed was another matter entirely. Still, Scully knew how desirable her ass of a partner was. She had been in the ladies' room once and had overheard a conversation between two women. She was positive she recognized one of the voices, but couldn't quite place it. At first she hadn't realized who they were talking about until: "His parents sure named him right. Fox, jeez, that man's just sooo hot. What I wouldn't give for a spin with the spookster." Scully had nearly collapsed in shock. "Yeah," Another continued "I'm with you there. But it might not be as impossible as you think." "Oh really?" "Yeah, apparently the guy's been through more women than J.Edgar Hoover did lacy panties. Last I heard it was Jen McKormic who got the honors. Apparently he's so good she had to have her bedroom wall re-plastered because of the damage the headboard made!" "Hmm. I wouldn't mind testing the resilience of my plasterboard with him. Do you reckon he's had his partner yet?" "Krycek! Is he bi or something? Hey cool, if he is maybe Pete'll let him join in our Tuesday evening 'let's try something new tonight' sessions! " "Amanda! He's back with Scully now. They've been working together again for the past couple of months. He's been kinda promoted to head of division too." "Oh, I didn't hear that. I thought she was still up in Quantico. Anyway, in answer to you question - no. He's too close to her. I don't think he'd screw her. From what I hear of him he can't handle proper relationships. He can handle the sex juuuuust fine, it's just the emotion that comes with it." Scully now sat thinking about that day, and wondered how bullshit like this got passed around. It was quite obvious to her that Mulder hadn't had many relationships of any kind lately. And neither had she. The reason for that fact? The biggest reason she could think of - Fox William Mulder. She had just had a kind of fling with Ed Jerse. He'd seemed like a nice guy, he was incredibly attractive. A little like Mulder now she thought about it. He had a better nose, was quite substantially shorter, not as dark, but he had a similar athletic body... okay, he was considerably more muscular than Mulder, but she liked her men somewhat willowy. Not that Mulder was willowy, he had an impressive physique. A nice body that didn't look like he spent his life down at the gym flexing his biceps for all the ladies. Mulder also had better eyes, and it was eyes that attracted her to a man more than anything. She'd slept with him, Jerse that is, before she even understood what she was doing. One moment she'd been looking at his tattoo, the next she was on the sofa and he was up her like a rat up a drain pipe. Her first screw in three years and she'd had to fake it. The poor guy was trying to hold back for her, but she could tell he was getting her nowhere. It just wasn't really doing anything that much for her, and she'd begun to daydream about Mulder. Then she felt guilty because, well, surely he couldn't be as bad in bed as Ed was! Scully got exhausted of all the tiresome rubbing and had made the decision to end it, put them both out of their misery. Afterwards she just sat and thought about what she'd done. The guy had practically raped her. He hadn't asked, just jumped on her. But he was really sweet about it when she told him she didn't really do this kind of thing with virtual strangers. He'd let her sleep in the bed on her own taking the sofa himself. Then, of course, he'd tried to kill her. How unlucky can you get! Not very well hung, crap in bed, and a homicidal maniac to boot. Well, that wasn't entirely fair. It was Betty, the tattoo, who was the homicidal maniac, not Ed. She sighed, god she led a sad life. She needed a drink. So she padded through to his kitchenette, opened the fridge and took out one of many bottles of Budweiser. Frohike's favorite, not Mulder's. He preferred Michelob, of which there were only six bottles so she thought she'd better take one from what was quite obviously the Frohike collection. She snapped off the top of the bottle of Bud against the counter - Mulder had taught her something at least - and began to saunter back through to his living room. She liked Mulder's apartment. She felt comfortable there. It was... well it was so Mulderesque. The leather sofa, the furniture to match the rich dark tones of the woodwork; posters framed in the same shade wood hung on the cream-colored walls; the fish tank - empty until he recently replenished it with a collection of beautiful fish (which were no-doubt doomed to the same fate as their predecessors - starvation). Files, CDs, shoes, even a few shirts were strewn lazily about the place, and a collection of videos were set aside from the video rack. She was just about to go and inspect the somewhat extensive collection, maybe put one on out of curiosity as to just what Mulder attempted to satisfy himself with.. The thought of Mulder having a good old jerk off made her want to puke. She knew he probably *did* do it, why else would he have the collection of Porn videos? She knew most people masturbated, she even did it herself. She *was* only human. But Mulder waxing the porpoise was nearly as bad as the thought of someone else doing it for him. Nearly, but not quite... She began to inspect the titles of the Tapes - 'Women in uniform'... She had been planning to select one that sounded vaguely interesting. One that hopefully wasn't full of women sucking on each others' plastic enhanced breasts... Just as she stood up she noticed a thick Legal Pad lying open on his cluttered desk. She recognized his flamboyant yet strangely neat hand-writing immediately and postulated that it must be case notes or something of the like. It wasn't until she got closer to it that she realized it was his journal. She couldn't, could she? It would be invading his privacy if she read it. She was ready to resist the temptation, until she saw that he had left it open on today's entry... Scully was overrun by curiosity. What exactly had he thought about today? What had been going through his mind? She knew what had been going through hers at the sight of him standing before her with his pants stretched taught over the hard-on that she had provoked. She nearly had nearly thrown herself at him, burying him to the balls right then and there on the desk in front of every hidden camera and bugging device that may be witness. At least she would have if he had just admitted how he felt instead of screaming at her and hurling insults and injurious comments. Scully knew he hadn't meant a word of what he said, so she would really like to know exactly what he had wanted to say. She couldn't help herself and perched on his computer chair, ready to read. She took a long swig of beer and hunched over the book, taking in all the information. The first page didn't really give her much consequential material to work with, but she had to laugh at the way his writing style was so different to the way he expressed himself outwardly. Scully was the only person he ever used the phraseology found in his diary with. And that was only when he was *seriously* pissed... or half drunk. She sniggered at his statement over his thoughts on her choice of physical punishment. His idea of an appropriate castigation - for her to cause irrevocable damage to a certain part of his anatomy. She continued to read, becoming a little impatient to find a depiction of what he had actually been feeling - until she began to read about his views on the events following his accident and when he'd collapsed into her arms after a violent bout of vomiting: "I was still letting her hug me. Then I realized I was enjoying the gentle strokes of her palms over my face, neck and back a little too much. *Way* too much. I could hardly feel the pain in my head and chest anymore, my senses were fully focused on her gentle touches. She smelled so good too, that distinctive sweet-fresh aroma she has. I could feel myself slipping away into another X-rated daydream again." Scully's head swam. This was... crazy. Either she was crazy, or the poor bastard needed help. The thoughts that were going through his mind as he pulled away, as he attempted to argue with her... Scully felt her breath quicken when she read what his reaction had been when she had walked towards him, invading his space. It had been the wrong thing to do. Her eyes widened at what his mental response had been to her question of whether he found her attractive, and she gasped when she read "It took all my willpower not to lift her up, tear off her clothes and screw her senseless." "Oh Jesus..." She said out loud as she turned the page and realized why he had said what he did. He loved her. He loved her. Mulder loved her. It was written there in black and white, (Well, blue and white) but still she couldn't believe it. Mulder *loved* her? *MULDER* loved *HER*? HE LOVED HER?! "Oh God Mulder..." She felt tears begin to form in her eyes again "You poor naive--." "Scully?!" Scully's heart leapt into her throat, sprinted out of her nostril, had a bit of a seizure on the desk and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Mulder was back. ======================== End part 1/2 SEE PART 1 FOR DISCLAIMER ================================= She quickly turned her head to be confronted with the barrel of his FBI standard issue Smith and Wesson 1076. He lowered the gun. "What the hell are you doing here?" His voice was cold, so incredibly cold. "I..." She began, then realized it was obvious she had been reading his diary. "Oh Christ, Scully. NO! You didn't read that. Please tell me you didn't!" He stormed over to his desk and snatched the bulky legal pad away from her. "I'm sorry Mulder..." "Dammit Scully you had no right to read that. It has nothing to do with you." He held the closed book to his chest, as if he was hugging it, protecting it. He looked like he might actually hit her, but she wasn't intimidated by his size. She threw her arms around him, tightly enveloping him in an embrace. "Why did you never tell me you stupid *fucking* asshole?!" She yelled. "How could you keep that from me?! What did you think I'd do?!" "Scully.." His voice was softer, and she thought she actually felt his barriers break. "Oh shit, Scully..." "You BASTARD!! You let me think you didn't care. When all the time you fucking LOVED ME!" Her throat burned. ""I can't believe you were feeling that way about me all that time and you never told me..." She ran her hands up and down his back, through his hair. "Why?" He collapsed to his knees, taking her with him. Mulder sobbed softly into her hair, "Don't speak, Scully." He hugged her more tightly to him. "Let me explain. Just don't speak until I've finished." "In a minute Mulder. I have something to say first." "Don't tell me you love me too, Scully. I don't need that right now." "What do you need?" She tilted her head to look at him, her eyes full of promise. "Am I mistaken or are you coming on to me Scully?" He asked with a small smile. "No." She smiled back, then touched his lips with the tips of her fingers, "But I am now." "Don't." He let go of her, retreating to the sofa. She moved to kneel before him. "Mulder..." "Why do you think I didn't tell you Scully?" He asked, brow furrowed. "Because you're scared." She knew the answer because it was the reason she had never told him "Because what we have together is the strongest and most important relationship of your life and you don't ever want to lose that. You were scared because you didn't ever want to face the threat of rejection from me. Because if you lost me you don't know what you'd do." Her voice faded off towards the end when his gaze lowered from hers. "I...I don't know what to do, Scully. I don't know whether to kiss you or kill you for reading something you had no right to." "Kiss me." She whispered. His eyes shot open wide. "No! Ohhyaggggghhh! Jesus, why didn't I get myself castrated at puberty?" Scully ignored him, and took his hands in hers. "Will you answer me? I think I deserve an answer, Mulder. Why didn't you tell me?" "I was scared of losing you." He admitted. She chewed her lip. "I had no idea..." "So now you think I'm an imbecile, huh? A complete flake?" "No." She moved closer to him, "Of course I don't." "Really? That's funny. 'Cause I feel like a complete asshole." "You are. But only because you never told me." She smiled at his expression of stupefaction, then took his face in her hands. "Don't, Scully." He gulped as she moved onto his lap. "Ssshh," She stroked his face, rough with a day's stubble "Don't you understand, Mulder? " She felt the overwhelming urge to call him sweetheart or darling or anything like that... but Mulder would probably run for the hills. "I've been wishing you felt like this about me for so long. I feel the same. Mulder, don't you understand? I love you too." He gulped again, "Please don't do this, Scully." He slid her off his lap onto the couch next to him, burying his face in his hands. "I don't want you to offer yourself to me out of sympathy or guilt, Scully. I'm not too hot on pity fucks. I don't need that from you." "I don't do sympathy sex, Mulder." "Are you offering me sex, then Scully? Is that what this is about?" "I'm not *offering* you anything. What I give I expect in return. I want you Mulder. I want us...I want...I want to be your partner in every sense of the word. In work, in life, in bed, in love." Mulder couldn't take all this in. "That's bullshit Scully. You don't want me." "How do you know what I want?" She forced him to look at her by deliberately placing herself in his line of view. Dangerously close to his face. "I know what you don't want." "How?! You never take anytime to listen to me. To notice me. To notice that I have feelings, and needs and--" Then he kissed her, capturing her head in his hands and pressing her to him. He had caught her by surprise, and she didn't respond, she was too shocked to. "If you wanted to, you would have kissed me back, Scully " He said, still holding her head in his hands, his mouth so close to her that she could feel his breath on her face. "I know you would have." "You..haven't been drinking..I thought.." She was breathless. He released her, dropping back against the couch with a sigh. "I forgot my wallet. I came back to get it." "Was that an attempt at deterring me Mulder? Because if it was...well kissing me like *that* was no way to go about it." He didn't reply. "Mulder. You can't fault me for not responding. It took me by surprise. What point exactly were you trying to prove?" "I just proved that you were spewing bullshit at me. You don't want me. Never have, never will. And you certainly don't love me!" "Unlike you?" She asked. "That's beside the point." He stated quickly. "You're right, the point being that you were just trying to prove to yourself that nobody could ever love an arrogant bastard like you. That little demonstration was in no way for my benefit." "You know me better than that." He snapped. "I know you well enough to see that you're scared. I also know myself well enough to know that you have nothing to be scared about. I want this as much, if not more, than you do." "Want what?" Mulder whined. "This isn't fair, Scully. You know how hard it is for me to say what I feel." "You don't have to say anything." Scully didn't allow him the time to even think about a retort, she kissed him. Softly brushing her lips over his in a small chaste kiss. It took him a moment to register what was happening, but he began to kiss her back, pulling her body towards him, enveloping her with his warmth. "See..." Scully mumbled as she straddled his thighs, resting her legs either side of him. "What did I tell you?" His lips parted, and she gently slid her tongue between them, marvelling in the taste of him. The metallic taste of saliva mingled with the slight saltiness of... sunflower seeds? It could only be. With a low groan he opened his mouth wider to her, teasing her tongue with his and running a hand through her thick auburn hair. Scully removed his heavy leather jacket and shrugged out of hers, the room was just getting warmer by the second. "Dana, we don't have to do this. It can wait." He whispered, his mouth moving against hers as he spoke. "Shut up." She nibbled on the full curve of his bottom lip, nipping the soft, moist flesh then replacing her teeth with her tongue, soothing any bite marks she may have left. Mulder's mind was reeling as he let his body take the lead. His tongue darted into her mouth again. Could he let it happen? Could he allow himself to make love to Dana Scully? Scully knew exactly what he was thinking, and reassured him that at least one of them knew what they wanted by hauling his shirt over his head. "It's been a long time Scully. You know that don't you? I'm seriously out of practise." His breath caught in his throat when he felt her mouth on his bare skin. "Oh jesussss.." He moaned. "You're doing fine so far, Mulder." Scully said, her voice rumbling over his flesh. She looked up and brought his hands to the buttons of her blouse. "Ummmm, Scully. Don't you think we should talk... just a little more, I mean, this is... God... Uh, I... never mind." He needed no further encouragement. Mulder unfastened the first few buttons and then, as if perplexed by having to unbutton all of them, he pulled the low-cut garment over her head. This revealed a rose-colored, lace half-cup bra. "Oh boy.." He sighed, this was the point of no return, it was now or never. He paused to look at her, unaware of her restless motions until she impatiently unzipped her skirt and slipped out of it. Mulder was driving her nuts. Why couldn't he just get over this fear he had and touch her? If he didn't even *try* to touch her soon she was going to scream. She wanted to feel his long sensitive fingers stroking over her skin, his incredible mouth doing the same. But instead, he just sat there. She could see the fear in his eyes, the doubts he was having. But there was hesitation and then there was this. Mulder was immobilized. His mind couldn't get around the fact that Scully was sitting astride him in her skimpy undergarments. *SCULLY*. He was going into sensory overload. He didn't know where to touch first, and he *had* to get out of his ever so tight jeans. He just couldn't get past the sight of her straddling him in her underwear. He was in total shock. Until he heard her voice, soft and gentle, urging him on. He responded almost without thinking, kissing her softly as he slowly explored her upper torso with his hands. Scully followed suit, tracing the defined hollow of his collarbone, slowly running over his broad shoulders, his chest, the firm plane of his stomach until they reached his hips where the waistband of his jeans hung on his slender body. She moved her mouth close to his ear, "May I?" She whispered, a little breathless. "Ugh," He tried to speak... but didn't have the brain capacity. Scully unfastened the button and slowly followed with the zipper. He had to close his eyes and bite his tongue to keep from moaning when she brushed against him. Then his eyes flew open and a throaty yelp escaped him when she tugged the coarse denim away, grasping him through the soft grey jersey material of his boxer-briefs. "Holy shit!" He gasped for breath "You trying to kill me?" She grinned and continued to stroke and tease him. She yanked the white waist band with 'Calvin Klein' in grey characters. "The suit you were wearing today, was that Armani?" She asked, her voice light and jovial, as if she wasn't driving him out of his mind with her hands. "Mmmm.." She took that as affirmative, and kissed his neck." You *really* shouldn't mix your designer labels, dahling." She teased. "I'll remember that in future." He pulled her hands away from him and wriggled out of his jeans. Well, he tried to anyway, until he noticed that he was still wearing his shoes. "Um, Scully. Could you help me out here? I've got a bit of a problem..." Scully prized his trainers from his feet before clambering along the couch to resume her activities. Mulder kicked his pants away, catching a glimpse of his feet as he did do. Oh God, he was wearing odd socks. But Scully's attention didn't seem to be focused on his choice of footwear. Scully gave his shoulders a shove and he fell onto his back. She took the opportunity to take really good look at him. Long, slender limbs. Smooth, soft skin. Just a sprinkling of dark hair. A huge purple bruise... Hmm, well, she'd try to ignore the huge purple bruise. Scully perched her butt on his firm abdomen and slowly leaned forward, her hair brushing his face as she did so. "Scully?" "What?" "Do we know what we're doing?" Scully sighed. "Look, Mulder. I know it's been a while, but I'm sure you can remember the basics." "Huh?" Mulder looked puzzled. "Ohhhh. No, Scully. You know what I meant." "You mean you're about to bring up all the 'it'll change everything' crap." "It *will* change everything, Scully." Mulder protested. "How? How will it change everything, Mulder? Tell me." "Well, work--" "The FBI has no written guidelines on the subject of partners becoming involved." Scully countered. "Uh... the consortium, Scully. They'll split us up. They won't let us become any closer--" "Why? What the hell has it got to do with them whether or not we sleep together? However enlightening sex may be, Mulder, I don't think it will make us more skilled in the area of disclosing the truth. Next." Mulder reached an arm out and pushed a few strands of auburn hair behind her ear. "Scully..." "Do you love me, Mulder?" She asked. "You don't need to ask that." "But do you need to *say* it." Scully covered his hand with her own. "You haven't said it." "I feel it Scully. And you know I do. That's about all I can handle at the moment." Mulder's small smile said more than any words could. "Well then," Scully returned the smile. "We can work on that later." "Yeah." His arms closed around her shoulders and he pulled her onto him. "But arbitration can wait." Scully's lips found his again, as Mulder carefully flipped himself and his partner onto their sides. He touched his mouth to hers softly before tracing the outline of her lips with his tongue. She tried to catch his mouth in another kiss, thirsty to drink in the taste of him again but he wouldn't let her. He'd taken long enough to find the courage to do this, now that he had it he planned to do things his way. Or he might lose it again. Not mention the fact that he enjoyed toying with her. It was kinda fun. Scully attempted to capture his face with her hands in order to force him to obey her wishes, but he ducked his head, dropping featherlight kisses over her neck and chest. She let him reach behind her to unclasp the rose lace bra, and watched his face intently as he slipped the lacy straps off her shoulders and down her arms. Mulder gently kissed the smooth, fragrant skin between her breasts, and moved his lips slowly over the curve of one ivory mound to roll his tongue over the tight, pink nipple. Delighting in her low gasp, he closed his mouth around the sensitive peak. "Mulder..." She dug her fingers into his hair, raking her nails down his neck and upper back. His mouth released her breast, and she arched her back at the sensation of cool air replacing his heat. Mulder's lips grazed her stomach. "I do have a bed, Scully." He spoke between the kisses he was administering, " It's clean. It's new actually. New mattress, new sheets. Let's christen it." Scully couldn't speak, her mind was clouded and totally exempt of any thought other than the feel of his mouth on her body. Mulder was afraid she may have been reconsidering. "Scully?!" He exclaimed, panicked. Scully didn't need to ask what he was thinking. "God, Mulder, I'm over the age of consent. I can tell you if I don't want anything to happen, just as I expect you to tell me. Just get over this fear you have will you?" She stroked his hair. He nodded, "The bedroom?" "Fine." She finally gained access to his lips. "Whatever." "I... uh, would carry you, Scully, except I don't think my ribs would be too happy." He moved to his knees and took her hand. "Sure. Besides, you had better conserve your energy old man." "I'm only four years your senior, Dana..." "Men age faster than women." "Really?" He led her through his apartment to the bedroom. "I was under the impression that females matured faster than males." "Age and maturity are two completely different things." "Not according to the dictionary." Mulder pushed open his bedroom door, and flicked on the light. Scully grinned and wound her arms around his torso. "Yeah, well the dictionary's definition of 'spooky' is 'nervous and easily frightened'." "You might want to test that." Mulder stroked the skin of her bare back. "Yeah, I might." As their lips met in a kiss, Fox Mulder thanked god he kept a journal. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx END... Until Part 3... Nah. I think this is it. What about you? Tell me what ya think! Was it worth reading? Did you laugh, cry, puke, all of the above? I need to know! PLEASE send me feedback. PLEASE!!!!!!!! Please? Yeah!! Okay, you want to send that message to DxSCULLYxx@aol.com. Got it? Good. Now, go compose that e-mail! xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX "Y'know, living in the city, you forget that night is actually so... dark." - Mulder (Tunguska) "I ate two slices of bad pizza, went to bed, and grew a CONSCIENCE!" -Jerry Maguire