From: To: Subject: New Story Date: Wednesday, August 07, 2002 1:42 PM All the Pretty Flowers By Piper Sargasso Category: Mulder/Other, Scully/Other, MSR Spoilers: None (At least, nothing significant) Classification: S, A Rating: 17+ Feedback: That would be much appreciated! Still learning here, so feedback helps. PiperSargasso@aol.com. Disclaimer: The characters within belong to Chris Carter, Twentieth Century Fox and Ten-Thirteen Productions. The publication "Sex and the City" by Candace Bushnell belongs to Warner Books and HBO. No infringement is intended. Summary: I know heartbreak. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Part 1/2 I know heartbreak. At first it feels like the air has been sucked violently from your lungs. You can't breathe to save your pathetic soul. Following closely are the inexplicable bouts of nausea, threatening to double you over. Next comes the inevitable feeling of general wretchedness, inadequacy overwhelming your senses as you doubt everything you stand for, everything that you are about. You become a shadow of yourself, knowing with absolute certainty that nothing and no one will ever be the same. The colors of nature, that once seemed so brilliant, fade. The world around you feels dirty, tarnished and jaded. Decay and misery surround you like a blanket where you oddly find your first moments of comfort. It envelops you in a grim way, soothing the ache ever so slightly and assuring that, finally, you are not alone. The rain is welcome in ways that you never imagined, beating mercilessly on your soul-weary body. It cleanses the tears - God, the bitter, remorseful tears - and cradles you in its icy embrace. I know heartbreak intimately. It enshrouds your very essence and drains away the will to live. The barren bitterness nature bestows upon you is a gift, one which you cleave to desperately. It's a comfort because it lets you know where you rank in the scheme of things, that you are here to simply procreate and die. There's a coldness to the world that promises you that you are less than nothing, that there are no certainties and that eventually, you will die. That in time, no one will grieve and you will be forgotten. I cling to this knowledge, taking consolation wherever I can get it, relieved that one day the misery will cease. I'll never have the courage to take my life, to rebel against the preconceived notion of retribution that has been drilled into my head since childhood. But I do welcome it, hope for it, reach out to the sky and dare God to give me peace. If Missy were here, she'd cluck her tongue at me and tell me without hesitation that I was being melodramatic. But how could she know? She was never truly in love. But I am. With a man who has opened me up to possibilities beyond my imagination, making me believe. A man who has turned a blind eye to my affections, however subtle. A man who does not reciprocate. It began slowly, quietly warning that something was wrong. Mulder puttered around the office as usual, but had become distant. He'd refrained from calling or dropping by on a whim, choosing instead to only do so when he had a legitimate reason. He was all-about-business. Fool that I am, I didn't suspect a thing. He got that way sometimes. I'd always shrugged it off as his way of giving us space. Then the hushed phone calls began. I am not a stupid woman. I could tell that the calls were of an intimate nature. At first I was unhappy that Mulder would feel like he needed to sneak around, to keep such things from me of all people. Then he dropped the bomb on me, the one thing that I dreaded the most; he told me that he had proposed. It was like being punched in the gut. Absolutely the worst thing I could've imagined - and it was too soon! He'd only known her for a month. Didn't anyone bother to really get to know people anymore before dashing off to the altar? I did the only thing I could do. I smiled at him, praying that he couldn't see through the thin attempt and swallowed hard, congratulating him. As the calls became more and more frequent, I began to feel like an intruder. The phone would ring, Mulder would turn his back to me and speak low, with a goofy grin plastered on his face afterwards. It wasn't long before I would simply leave the office quietly, the constriction on my fragile heart too much to bear. I am ashamed to say that it was during these times I would hold my head up high, in case I should run into another agent, and stride confidently into the ladies room - where I would crumple down to the floor of a locked stall and just cry. I cried until I thought my head would split in two. Thirty minutes, three aspirins and repeated splashes of cold water on my face later and I was back in the office, well-practiced composure in place. He never knew the difference, never saw the red-rimmed, bloodshot eyes or the blotchy skin. For that, I was simultaneously grateful and saddened. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I reached the snapping point about two months after his little revelation. Despair had become my new best friend. It took up residence in my tired soul and adhered to it like a great, life-sucking parasite. All inclinations to be the proper and capable woman that I'd always prided myself on being washed away with the driving rain that beat steadily on the windows above the office. The phone rang - that's all. It was my undoing. Without a word, I stood abruptly and grabbed my coat without bothering to see who it was. I didn't have to. The muffled laughter of my partner behind the closed door told me all I needed to know. I remember thinking how appropriately the weather matched my mood as I walked out of the Hoover Building, shoulders sagged and eyes downcast, looking nothing at all like Special Agent Dana Scully, M.D. I doubt my own mother would've recognized me at that point. I wandered aimlessly for about an hour before finally ducking into an upscale bar, looking sorely out of place with my drenched hair and wilted appearance. The place was mercifully empty, save for the odd pensive patron here and there. It seemed that the weather was affecting more than just me. I sat down and shed first my trench coat, then my blazer. About two hours later, I was more than a little inebriated. Which brought me to thoughts that I shouldn't have tortured myself with, but that assaulted me nonetheless. I imagined with excruciating detail what she would look like. Would she be blonde or brunette? Surely not a redhead. I'd never once seen him check out a redhead in the entire seven years I'd known him. I didn't dare entertain the thought that he might be interested in anyone bearing any sort of resemblance to me whatsoever. It was from years of observation that I was able to glean a rough idea of Mulder's "type". She would be beautiful of course. Tall. Judging by his particular taste in entertainment, she'd have a voluptuous figure and a generous cup size. I felt so inadequate as I ticked off all the various characteristics in my head, downing one Tequila Sunrise after another. I was painfully aware that I had none of the physical traits that he would be interested in. Sure, I knew my mind was a turn-on for him. Clearly my body was not. Honestly, I thought that he loved me too, that we were mutually waiting for the time to be right. I couldn't have been more wrong. It became obvious to me that I was stuck in the "gal-pal" rut. Nothing more than the surrogate kid sister. A fucking replacement. That's when my thoughts turned bitter. I cut the useless whiny-baby act and quit feeling sorry for myself. Then I remembered all the time I'd spent bawling on the floor of the basement bathroom and began to feel a self-hatred unlike anything I'd ever known. I began to realize that all the times I returned to the office after a fit of emotional turmoil went completely unnoticed. There was a time that we were so in tune with each other, we could sense when something was wrong just by the air in the room. I left him in that office - our office, in which I had every right in the world to be, without so much as an upward glance from his lanky ass. All I could think about was the sound of his laughter after I stormed out of there. "Fuck him." I mumbled vehemently. Oddly, the statement brought both feelings of guilt and relief all at once. Those two little words lifted a bit of the weight that was dragging me down. Just like that, the anger dissolved and I let myself become sublimely numb. "Man trouble?" a male voice inquired. I looked up sharply, thinking that he'd found me there drowning myself and was teasing me with one of his ridiculous impressions. But the face that smiled down on me was not what I'd expected. He was about 5'8 with brown hair and stunningly blue eyes. My first thought was disappointment in the fact that it wasn't my partner. My second thought was here was an attractive man who showed obvious interest in the damp and depressed woman before him. I figured that I had absolutely nothing left to lose and invited him to join me. Certainly my dignity was in shreds already so what could it hurt? His name was Aidan Broudy. He worked as a structural engineer, divorced with no kids, dog named Gavin. He had the sexiest Irish accent I'd ever heard, as he'd lived in Ireland until just recently. His move to the States was a hard one. Severing the ties had been difficult, as was adjusting to the way of things here. I began to relax and enjoy myself immensely. Aidan was an amazing conversationalist, even if we *were* both bombed. He complimented me and made me feel beautiful at a time when I felt repulsive. The next thing I knew, we were engaged in a passionate lip lock in my apartment, grappling frantically with each other's clothes in an effort to shed them as quickly as possible. So impatient were we, that we never even made it past the front door. I clung to him desperately as one orgasm after another washed over me, chasing away thoughts of love or Mulder. It was a welcome moment of succumbing to the baser instincts, a state where sloppy human emotion had no place. I was feral, animalistic. It was the only peace I'd felt in three months. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I woke up on my couch - alone, at six in the morning. Aidan must've thrown the blanket over me and gone home sometime during the night. Glancing down, I saw a sheet of paper on the coffee table. A truly beautiful woman you are, Dana Katherine Scully. I pray we meet again. Yours, Aidan At the bottom was his cell number. Dropping the note back onto the table, I struggled to get up and felt an icy wave of dizziness overwhelm me, prickling my skin from the upcoming shock my body anticipated. Rushing to the bathroom, I dropped to my knees and violently heaved the contents of my stomach into the toilet through bitter tears. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~Mulder~ I finally know happiness. At first it feels a bit intimidating, especially since I am quite the skeptic, although in no other area than in matters of human nature. Questions of motive came into play as I even began to doubt my own feelings. Following closely are the inexplicable bouts of giddiness, wherein your heart leaps in a manner that you can only remember having experienced back in junior high school days. Next comes the inevitable feeling of general bliss, saturating and overwhelming your senses until you dare to believe again. Believe in people, believe in love. You begin to resent the shadows that once made up the essence of you, knowing with absolute certainty that nothing and no one will ever be the same again. The colors of nature that once seemed so bleak and dull now have a vibrancy that you can't recall ever seeing before. Uncharacteristic cheerfulness and joy surround you like a blanket, enveloping you in its warmth, soothing the ache ever so slightly and assuring you that, finally, you are not alone. I feel I deserve this happiness, and that I deserve the source of it. Stop the presses! Fox Mulder finally believes he is worthy. Said source would be the beautiful and amazing Bianca Stratford. We met at a UFO convention that I never even bothered to invite Scully to. She always declined anyway and to be honest, I really wasn't up for another rejection that weekend. Anyway, Langly and Byers were off looking God knows where, leaving me with Frohike who was shamelessly ogling a woman seated next to me in the crowded makeshift lecture hall. I shot a reprimanding look his way and prayed that she hadn't noticed the exchange. Unfortunately, she had and I shyly introduced myself in hopes of smoothing things over. We hit it off immediately, laughing and joking with ease. It was amazing to meet such a beautiful, intelligent woman who shared my beliefs. Let me tell you, the moment she turned and met my eyes in that lecture room, my heart melted at the sight. Beautiful didn't describe her accurately. She was more like a goddess. Her brown hair was accented with natural-looking, honey colored highlights and fell in graceful curls to the middle of her back. Long legs and perfect skin - everything I'd ever fantasized about. Well, everything I used to fantasize about anyway. I finally reached my breaking point that weekend, no longer content to be alone in this empty world, waiting foolishly for a woman who would never allow herself to love me the way I loved her. It wasn't fair to either of us. So, in that convention hall, surrounded by cheesy blow-up aliens and an assortment of every sort of person imaginable, I let go. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ As crazy as it may seem, I was swept away by Bianca from the word go. After a month of blissful romance, the sort which I *never* thought myself capable of, we became engaged. And the sex... The sex! It was fantastic, to say the least. I must say though, throughout all of this I'd noticed a significant change in my partner. She'd become withdrawn, sullen. Every time the phone rang, she cringed. She thought I didn't see the rings under her eyes, that I was oblivious to the emotional roller coaster that she was on but tried so hard to conceal. The thing was, I had no clue what was wrong with her. I wanted to reach out to her, to soothe her, but I got the sense that she wanted to be left alone. That she needed her space. It was frighteningly reminiscent of the cancer days and that scared the hell out of me. However, I knew better than to push her. When she was ready, she'd tell me. It had been three months into the relationship. Bianca called to ask me about my take on colors and reception hors d'oeuvres. Scully jumped out the door like the place was on fire and didn't return. I worried about her immensely. Something in her countenance had shifted, changed dramatically. I knew she needed her dignity, but I thought it was time to intervene. Out in the parking garage, I noticed that although my partner never returned, her car was still parked in the same spot as when she arrived that morning. Panicked, I called her cell. For my trouble, I received a curt "Not now" and I swore I heard a man's voice in the background before the line went dead. As much as it annoyed me to hear my own words bounced back at me, I was relieved to know that she was all right. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I arrived at Scully's apartment at about six-thirty the next morning. When knocking produced no results, I decided to err on the side of safety and used my key. Walking cautiously through the living room, I called out to her. "Go 'way, Mulder." She grumbled from behind the closed door of her bathroom. Now, I knew that Scully was not the most congenial person in the morning, but something was up. "Scully? Are you okay in there?" I asked her. She had me so worried when she didn't reply that I pushed open the door to see what was the matter. Nothing could've prepared me for the sight that greeted me. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~Scully~ Great. This is just what I need. I'm in the throes of a nasty Tequila hangover and my partner is here for the floor show. Stick around, Mulder! You ain't seen nothing until you've seen your prim and proper partner spew chunks all over her pristine toilet bowl. Jesus, was there no end to the humiliation? "Oh, Scully," he said once the heaving ceased. "Are we just going to keep letting this thing go? When will you let me in?" I couldn't believe the audacity. *He* was the one who looked pained. I scrambled to my feet and walked over to the sink, avoiding his gaze as I smothered my toothbrush with toothpaste. "Do you mind, Mulder? I'd really like a little bit of privacy, if that's okay with you," I snapped. He looked like I'd just slapped him and for a moment, I was glad. The feeling left rather quickly though, leaving me feeling more tired than before. His eyes bored through me, and I could swear he'd could see right through to my soul. I didn't want him to see me, didn't want him that close. I was disturbed and embarrassed by what I'd become. "Stop profiling me goddammit!" I demanded. He looked infinitely sad, but finally turned to leave me in peace. I could hear him moving around in the other room, but soon the sounds of his curious snooping were drowned out by the pitter- patter of the shower. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I should've been grateful that Mulder noticed my car was still at work and went out of his way to ensure that I had a ride in. But the tension was so thick in the car, it was nearly unbearable. I couldn't remember ever feeling that with him and it frightened me. No matter how we disagreed, no matter what our differences, it had never come to this before. Things were changing, and I didn't like it one bit. The day passed in a haze, as I was nursing a serious headache. Bianca called right after the two of them returned from their customary lunch, which did nothing to ease my disposition. Jesus! Couldn't the woman spend ten minutes without him? How can that not be annoying to him? A mean and spiteful voice in my head answered for me. "Because he's in *love*, Dana. Has it been so long that you don't even remember anymore?" I squashed EvilDana with a vengeance and reached for my purse. Mulder was finally off the damn phone, so the line was free and I wanted to do this before I lost my nerve. Headache be damned, I dialed the cell phone number at the bottom of the note that was left for me that morning. His pain-laced voice answered, "Hello?" I grinned in empathy for what was sure to be an excruciating afternoon in light of our indulgence the previous night. At least it sounded like he was able to stay home and sleep it off. I wished I'd had the luxury. "Aidan? It's Dana." I chanced a sideways glance to make sure that Mulder wasn't eavesdropping. He was engrossed in some paperwork. "Dana! Gracious, I didn't expect to be hearin' from you so soon! How are ya?" "I'm -- well, not so great. I must've been quite a sight." He chuckled softly. "That you were, Dana. But not in the way you imagine." I smiled in spite of myself. Sweet man. "Well, nevertheless, I'd like to take you to dinner tonight, if that's okay." "That would be lovely. Shall I pick you up later then?" "Is seven okay?" "Only if you promise no cocktails." He chuckled again. I agreed and hung up the phone. Thankfully, Mulder decided to wrap up early and we both left around three, giving me ample time to rest up a bit and prepare for the evening. By six forty-five I was already set to go. I'd chosen a cobalt blue sheath dress without sleeves or straps. It fell in a very subtle flare above the knees and stretched tightly over my bosom. Although it showed absolutely no cleavage, it was still an elegantly sexy number that clung to every curve in the most flattering way. I accessorized with a pair of diamond stud earrings and tousled my hair into a mass of fiery curls. Slipping on a pair of strappy heels, I answered the knock at the door. "Aidan, you're ea--" There stood Mulder, file in hand and mouth dropped to the floor. "Mulder! What are you doing here? I'm expecting someone." He pushed his way into the apartment and turned to stare openly at me. Maybe he was shocked to see that under all those serious suits I wore that I was actually a woman. "Scully, you look amazing," he said, his eyes full of wonder. The unexpected compliment caused me to blush furiously. "Thank you, Mulder." A moment passed with him just staring at me in a manner that made my heart flutter wildly. God, what I wouldn't give for that intensity to be focused on me for real, not in a moment of fleeting awe. The way *she* must feel it. A second knock at the door went unnoticed by me. "You gonna get that?" Mulder prodded gently. I shook myself out of the trance and effectively broke contact. "Aidan!" I exclaimed as I opened the door, perhaps a little too exuberantly. He hugged me and offered me a bundle of roses with a dazzling smile. "Thank you, Aidan! They're my favorite." I excused myself and put the cream colored blooms with hot pink tips into a crystal vase. Upon returning to the living room, I realized that I'd left the room and never introduced the two men who were undoubtedly uncomfortable. "Oh! Where are my manners? Mulder, this is Aidan Broudy. Aidan, my partner, Fox Mulder." "How d'you do, Mr. Mulder," Aidan extended his hand, which Mulder readily accepted. "Please, call me Mulder." He told him. Mulder stared at him darkly, sizing my date up much like an overprotective big brother. After a moment's hesitation, Mulder spoke up. "Well, I should be going. Bianca's arranged a dinner for me to meet her parents tonight. 'Night." He raised the file in departure and walked out the door. Aidan looked at me in much the same manner as Mulder had. It was quite an ego boost. But then, I looked like a movie star compared to the train wreck that I was the night before. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Guiding me with a gentle hand on my elbow into the restaurant, Aidan and I took our seats at a table situated in the middle of the room. The setting was not very intimate, which was somewhat of a relief. We ordered and chatted over wine as we waited. He told me about his boyhood in Ireland and the painful divorce that was the driving force behind his relocation to America. It turned out that he knew one of my second cousins from Kerry and her husband. He tactfully avoided mentioning the previous night. We were so engrossed in our conversation that I didn't think about Mulder at all. Unfortunately, I eventually looked up. And immediately wished I hadn't. Mulder strode in with a woman of about 5'7, smiling down at her warmly as he led her into the room with a hand on the small of her back. The gesture was so intimate, something I'd associated with 'us'. I'd never seen him touch another woman that way and I have to say that it felt a lot like he was cheating. Ridiculous, I know. But that's how it felt. His eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of us. What were the odds that we'd end up in the same restaurant on the same night? Whatever they were, the fates seemed to have it in for me. The happy couple stood before us and polite introductions were made. "Scully," he took a deep breath and pointed his hands at her like he was presenting the damned Nobel Prize. "This is my fiancee, Bianca Stratford." he beamed with pride. I wanted to punch him. Of course, she was exactly what I'd imagined she would be. Tall, brunette. Legs up to there. Ample chest. Her perfect hair was pulled back in an equally perfect, elegant twist at the back of her head, wearing a perfectly professional (albeit short) black skirt and pinstriped blouse with perfect accessories. Miss Fashion Plate. Not a hair out of place. Not a strayed line of makeup. She was - perfect. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue and she seemed sincere as she offered her hand. "It's so nice to finally meet you, Dana. Mulder's told me so much about you." He'd let Phoebe, Diana and Bambi call him Fox. I'm sure there were others I'll never know about, and I'm also certain they would've called him Fox as well. This used to bother me until I realized that the use of our last names was more intimate than the use of our first. Something reserved for us only, as no other woman he was close to was asked to call him by his surname. Apparently I was wrong about that too. They scurried off to their table as soon as our food arrived and went about chatting with the future in-laws. I chanced a peek here and there and was satisfied to see that Mulder was properly uncomfortable. I had wanted her to be a bimbo. I had wanted her to be less than perfect for him. And it made me profoundly sad to find that she was neither. And I *grieved* for what I thought could've been, for what I was so sure was mine. Needless to say that despite the witty and charming conversation that flowed between Aidan and I, it was a relief to finally break out of there. When he pulled up to the front of my apartment and told me what a wonderful time he'd had, something inside me warned that as soon as he left, I would be alone again. I didn't want to face that, especially after the encounter at the restaurant. I needed someone to remind me that I was a woman. "Aidan, would you care to take this conversation upstairs?" ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ He knew just where to touch me, playing me like the taut strings of a violin. As with the night before, the release was wild and uninhibited. Aidan unleashed the savage in me. "I know you're in love with that partner of yours, Dana," he drawled in that brogue that drove me crazy as he pounded into me. I was riding fast and hard on the tails of yet another orgasm. "And that's okay. I want you to be free, darlin'. Use me. We'll use each other." His words drove me right over the edge, fumbling headlong into sheer bliss and dragging him along with me. It was strangely comforting to be an object, nothing more than a vessel of pleasure with no real emotions to guide you. An object, as he was to me. Six months passed this way. Months that thankfully turned my battered soul into a numb thing. With Aidan, I chased the demons of loss and betrayal with each thrust met, each heated sob of ecstasy. Mulder had his believer, I had my incredibly sexy substitution. And I hated myself for it. Aidan and I met several times a week. We would take in a show or have a nice dinner. It meant so much to both of us to have someone to turn to in our sadness, someone that understood the pain and had no expectations. We were both so broken. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ I woke this morning after a particularly energetic romp grateful that it was Saturday. The bed was cold and empty, but I pushed these thoughts away and stretched out my aching limbs. I think I drifted off until about ten before rising and showering. The rest of the afternoon was spent at Barnes and Noble, sipping on a Frappuccino and skimming over a couple of women 'empowerment' books, along with "Sex and the City" - the basis for my favorite cable program. I let my mind drift as I thought about the show and the women in it who reminded me so much of my own friends. We used to sit around in a local cafe after classes and gripe about relationships - or our lack thereof in some cases, and compare horror stories. After graduating from med school, the three of us continued to meet every Saturday at this little Bohemian coffee shop downtown. Sadly, not long after I started my work with Mulder it all fell apart. I was rarely able to make it, so it was just Katia and Viv most of the time. Eventually, we stopped trying to meet altogether. I paused over the page I was about to turn and reflected on this. It pained me to know that I'd been responsible for that. The work Mulder and I do is important, no doubt about that. But once in a while you just need to *live*. It was then and there I vowed to reclaim my life. It was okay that I invited Aidan into my bed as a means of escape, that I didn't love him but gave myself to him just the same. I made peace with this and with the intense guilt. If it was good enough for a man, then by damn it was good enough for me. I could remain detached, get what I needed and craved from the arrangement and cut the strings whenever I felt like it. I decided to buy those books, call my friends and for God's sake, try to get over Fox Mulder. Time to stop following him around like a little lost puppy and get a life of my own. Accept that his fiancee was beautiful, but that I was beautiful in my own way, too. Accept things for what they were - and for what they were not, and make a concentrated effort to be as happy for Mulder as I know he would be for me, were the roles reversed. I felt a surge of empowerment rush through my weary body. I'd drifted so far from myself that I barely even recognized the vulnerable and pathetic woman I'd become. Those days were over. This was the day that I would begin living my life. It may sound like pure lunacy, but I plunged head first into this new attitude without a net. In other words, I went shopping. For an engagement gift. I'd put it off long enough. It was a bit difficult finding a gift that would suit both Mulder and a woman I'd only met briefly, but I finally settled on a rather extravagant mantle clock that caught my eye and had it wrapped, then prepared to meet Aidan at his apartment. Dressing carefully, I chose another dress similar to the one I wore on our first date. This one was cut the exact same way, but was seafoam green and had a cord- like belt that hung loosely around my waist, clasped together by a silver buckle of sorts. Checking my hair, which I had pulled into a low and curly ponytail, I headed for Mulder's place to drop off the gift. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~Mulder~ The sound of the slamming door reverberated through my head. What did she want? For us to marry only to find out five years down the road what a terrible mistake it was? Things had been deteriorating for a while. We began to argue over the pettiest of things and resorted to childish gibes to get our points across. Then would come the worst part- the frantic sex. Every time, it would come to this. And it very quickly became the only way we could bring ourselves to make amends. The communication we'd had in the beginning was completely gone. We were focusing on each other's faults and shortcomings rather than behaving like two people who loved each other. All would be forgotten after a quick and furious fuck on the floor. Not lovemaking. That would be a falsehood. No, it was screwing each other senseless, plain and simple. I could no longer bear to live like that. It would be like the worst kind of lie. Despite my rationalizations and my being the one to call it all off, I still ended up brooding in my living room in the wake of Bianca's fury. A soft tapping at the door startled me out of my bout with self-pity and I crossed the floor to open the door thinking it was Bianca, back for round two. All I knew was that I was in no mood to deal with her any further. Imagine my relief and surprise when I found Scully at my door. She looked beautiful. Amazing in a way that no other woman could ever hope to match. And her inner beauty was just as stunning. "Hey, Mulder. Can I come in?" she asked, balancing a brightly wrapped box and a little purse as I stupidly stared at her, blocking the entrance. I told myself to snap out of it and replied, "Always. Here, let me help you with that." She looked at me gratefully and handed the package over. "New rug?" she arched an eyebrow in question and it occurred to me that I hadn't seen that gesture in months. I ached for the lost time. "Um, yeah. Got it about two months ago." Jesus. Had it been that long since she'd been in here? A quick tally in my head answered in the affirmative. I went to the kitchen and snagged a bottled water for her and a beer for me, then joined her on the couch. We enjoyed the first companionable silence since this whole mess began. I was the one to finally break the quiet. "So Scully, what gives? I don't think it's my birthday." She chuckled lightly and it was like a balm on my soul. God, how could I have been so blind? How did I ever think I could love anyone else? "It's an engagement gift, goofball." She elbowed me playfully. "But you really should wait to open it until you're with Bianca." I could see the effort it took to mention her name, that she was trying valiantly to put up a supportive front - and I loved her all the more for it. I looked down at my hands and told her the news softly. "I hope you kept the receipt, Scully. We just called it off." She gasped in disbelief. "Mulder, no. Oh, I'm so sorry." She pulled me into her embrace, comforting me. "It's okay," I mumbled against her bare shoulder as I drank in the smell of ripe peaches on her skin, rubbing my face against the silkiness of it. "We've been drifting apart for a while now." I pulled back and explained the whole thing to her, none too shy about relaying the details to my best friend. She looked at me with sadness in her eyes and took both of my hands into her own. "It's awful, Mulder. God, when will you ever just catch a break?" The emotion in her words knocked me flat on my back. She was sincere, but then I've come to expect no less from her. I could see in her eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, that she was hurting too, but her primary concern was still for me. It was then that I knew without a doubt that she was in love with me too. "It's really okay, you know." I reassured her. "I think she was more indignant about the split than she was hurt. It was almost a using situation, Scully. I could never be with a woman like that." There was a flicker of panic in her eyes that scared me. I wondered what it could mean. She looked down suddenly at the tiny silver watch on her wrist and jumped up. "Oh no! I'm sorry, Mulder. I'm kind of late for this - thing." She flashed me an apologetic smile and I assured her once more that I was fine, then scooted her out the door. It took all the willpower I possessed not to dwell on the fact that she was obviously late for a date. The silence that followed her departure was deafening, cold and unbearable. Was she serious about this guy? Maybe since my engagement, she felt like she could finally stop worrying about me and move on. Maybe she'd resent me for it, but I had to know. I'd wasted far too much precious time procrastinating as it was. Tossing on my leather jacket, I rushed over to her apartment. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~Scully~ Standing in Aidan's living room, I told him that I couldn't continue this pathetic charade any longer. He was disappointed, naturally, but understood that it was a condition of our arrangement that there would be no strings. I knew I'd miss him - he was a truly kind man. But the situation wasn't healthy for either of us. After an awkward goodbye, I made a beeline for the only place in the world I wanted to be, by the side of the only man I've ever truly wanted - to where I belonged. I knocked on Mulder's door for ten minutes before pulling out my key and letting myself in. Empty. Panic surged through me with lightening quick speed as one thought repeated itself over and over in my mind; I've ruined everything. And it was true. He needed me and I ran off. My motives were of no significance - he'd gone back to Bianca. I was as sure of it as I ever was of anything. It was a somber drive back home, but one filled with reflection. I retracted my earlier promises to myself. What had happened to my self-esteem, my sense of self worth? Mindless sex among virtual strangers might be good enough for most men, maybe even good enough for most women. But it was not good enough for me. I realized that it just wasn't who I am. I *would* get in contact with the girls as soon as possible and *not* lose touch again. Relationships are important and shutting yourself off will only hurt you in the long run. As for Mulder, I would only be lying to him and myself if I ever tried to make a go of a relationship with another man without first telling him how I feel. After all we've been through, I felt it was only fair to be completely honest in *all* aspects of my life. No more "I'm fines" to watch him pretend not to be hurt by. And if he didn't want the same, if he didn't *feel* the same, then I would survive. And then I would move on. The self-examination calmed me and I felt lighter somehow as I walked slowly up the steps to my building and let myself into my little sanctuary. The lights were all off, even though I was sure I'd left a table lamp on. Coldness gripped me. Instinctively, I reached for my gun and cursed inwardly when I realized it wasn't there. "Do you love him?" a voice in the darkness asked softly. I let out a breath as soon as I recognized the owner. "Jesus, Mulder. You scared the life out of me!" "Do you love him?" he repeated, with unmasked emotion. "No," I told him firmly. "No, I don't." I swear I heard him sigh in relief. "What's this all about?" I asked gently. There was a slight swoosh of the chair cushion as he rose in the moon-drenched room and I tracked him as he stalked toward me. He grabbed hold of my bare shoulders tightly and looked into my eyes, searching wildly. "What is he to you?" The pained, desperate look in his eyes made me want to cry. Before I could censor my words, the first, honest answer tumbled from my lips. "A replacement." Remembering the vow I'd made to myself not five minutes before, I willed my heartbeat to return to a normal cadence. This was what I wanted to do after all, and I needed more than anything to be truthful. That simple statement was apparently all he needed to hear. In one smooth motion, he closed in the last few inches between us and captured my mouth with his, warmly and expertly delivering an explorative, full-bodied kiss that set my belly on fire. Tingles of excitement raced up and down my spine as he broke contact from my lips and trailed a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses up and down my sensitive neck and throat. He was devouring me alive. Pressed between the rock-hard body of my partner and the unforgiving coolness of my living room wall, I learned what it was like to truly surrender yourself to passion. Nothing with Aidan was even close to this. With him, it was a mutual race to the finish line, taking as much from each other as humanly possible. But with Mulder, I felt like I was giving myself over to him, as he was giving himself to me. I wound my fingers through his dark hair as he nibbled and tugged on my earlobes with his teeth, sparks of pleasure rocketing through my hypersensitive body from the sensations and his hot breath in my ear. His exploration of my upper body turned more frantic and he slid his hands up my dress to impatiently fumble with my zipper, shaking hands impeding his progress. Before I knew it, I was down to my panties and welcoming the onslaught of his luscious lips doing the most amazing things to my breasts. His large hands caressed them tenderly as he nibbled and nipped at the sensitive tips and I found myself wondering if could he smell me, if he could tell how completely soaked I'd become for him. For the first time, I noticed his erection pressing insistently against my stomach, demanding attention for itself. He released my aching nipple with an audible pop and bent to strip off the panties that had become another hindrance to his quest. I stepped out, but leaned up on my tiptoes to conquer his lips as thoroughly as he'd conquered mine, wildly and deeply blazing my way into his mouth and soul. I realized that I wanted nothing in the world more than to feel his bare skin against mine, that I would go crazy if I didn't have what I wanted. Breaking contact only minimally, I yanked his pants and boxers down in one frantic swoop and turned us around. Now he was the one pressed up against the wall as I licked and stroked every available inch of his body. His shirt was added to the wrinkled pile of our clothing on the floor and I nipped at his chest, savoring the taste of his skin and laving his defined pecs with my tongue. I took him by surprise when I dropped to my knees and flicked my hot tongue across the tip of his penis, alternating the action between there and the frenulum. The sounds that emanated from deep within his chest were deliciously intoxicating and I found myself greedily lapping at him just to hear them again. Finally, I took the length of him into my mouth, setting up a rhythm where I massaged his shaft between my tongue and the roof of my mouth and sucked while simultaneously bobbing my head up and down. His deep growls were exquisite. Strong hands grasped my arms and pulled my to my feet. "Jesus, baby. You gotta stop." I looked up into his dark, hooded eyes which I knew reflected the desire in mine. With another searing kiss, he turned us back around. Pinning me against the wall once more, he bent slightly to lower his hand to my throbbing clitoris, teasing it with feather-light caresses and flicking at it at random intervals. Then he plunged first one, then two fingers into my eager entrance, never stopping the assault to my pulsating bundle of nerves. I was dying, I was sure of it. I needed him inside me so badly, it made me whimper with want. "Please, Mulder." I pleaded in a breathy voice that I barely recognized. The man had reduced me to a puddle already and he hadn't even really begun. He shook his head slowly in response, eyes locked with mine. "Wanna watch." It was my complete and utter undoing. Every particle of my being splintered into shards as the most frighteningly intense orgasm I'd ever experienced hit me. I always knew it would be intense with him, but I never imagined in a million years it would be like losing your mind. But he wasn't through with me, not by a long shot. I writhed against the wall, head tossing back and forth as he fell to the floor and drank in my release, lavishing pleasures so incredible on my sex that it bordered on pain. Wave after wave washed over me, rendering me helpless against his skillful ministrations and holding me suspended in ecstasy. I'm sure my heart stopped in those excruciatingly long moments. Finally, I had to make him stop. It was just too much. I slumped against his sweaty form and slowly returned to my senses, limp from the powerful aftershocks that still shuddered through my body. Looking up almost shyly into his eyes, I smiled in appreciation. He stared at me intently, with a reverence that touched me deeply. Never had I seen such a look in any of my lover's eyes before. "You're so incredible, baby." He muttered in earnest. I have to say, I used to be firmly opposed to demeaning pet names like that, but coming from his mouth, it was an amazing turn-on. Before I could tell him that he wasn't so bad himself, he hoisted me up against the wall. I had to wrap my legs around his waist and lock ankles above his perfectly toned ass just to simply remain in place. He groaned in response. After a moment of maneuvering, he was finally, finally inside me. It was the most beautiful, amazingly spiritual thing I'd ever experienced. He buried himself deeply within me and I gasped at the sheer size of him. I hadn't quite expected to be filled so completely. Mutually agreeing to remain still, we absorbed the perfection of the moment, savoring it and committing it to memory as our pulses raced. Then slowly, we began a rhythm, moving in perfect synchrony, as coordinated and in tune with each other as we were in every other aspect of our relationship. We sped up as the need outweighed the desire to make it last, grasping at each other frantically and hanging on for dear life as we used muscles for balance that had rarely been used before. Erratically, he pumped into me at just the right angle and we came together in a violent and shuddering climax. Sliding bonelessly together in a tangled heap next to our clothing, we held on to each other's slick body and tried to catch our breath. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~Mulder~ Nearly fifteen minutes had passed and still she remained silent. I was hoping that wasn't a bad sign. "I have to say, Mulder, that wasn't exactly how I'd always pictured it would be for our first time together." I looked at her curiously. Was she disappointed? "I'm intrigued, Agent Scully. How did you always picture it?" She blew at an errant strand of copper hair that had escaped the band at the nape of her elegant neck. I stroked her hips with my thumbs as she rested naked, encircled in my arms, content in our post-coital bliss. She smiled seductively up at me. "Well, don't get me wrong. That particular scenario played out in more fantasies than I care to admit. But not for the first time." I was rapt. "Scully!" I said, pretending to be shocked and amused. "You *fantasized* about us?" She shot me a murderous glare, which I returned with my very best leer. "So, was it in a seedy motel room in the middle of Hicksville or on my desk?" In the pool of moonlight where we rested I could see her blush. "Well," she began calmly, "I had hoped that it wouldn't finally come to a head in the office or out in the field." She slapped at me playfully as I grinned lasciviously at her. "I just always pictured it either in your bed or mine. Tender. Sweet. A little awkward at first, but not lacking passion. Did... Did you ever imagine it?" Her uncertain sweetness brought tears to my eyes. "Hmmm...." I pretended to be deep in thought. She turned and propped herself up on one elbow, narrowing her eyes at me. "Mulder!" she squeaked out. I can be so mean sometimes. I laughed softly. "Only about a hundred times a day." She rolled her eyes at me. I wondered at just how natural and unselfconscious we both felt, naked on the floor of her apartment with legs still entangled as if we'd been lovers for years. It was difficult to believe that only a few hours ago I was an engaged man. I know I should've been satisfied with Scully's simple explanation of the nature of her relationship with that Irish guy - what was his name? Aidan? But I suddenly felt the undeniable need to know more. "Scully? What was he to you?" The question threw her off guard. "Mulder, we've discussed this already." She looked uncomfortable, and God knows I didn't want to scare her off. But I needed to understand it. "No, I mean *what was he to you*. What are you so afraid to tell me?" Her eyes dropped from mine as she fiddled with the hem of my discarded shirt. This wasn't good. What could she have to say that was so terrible she couldn't even meet my eyes? Maybe I was being selfish. "Forget it," I told her. "It's none of my business." She looked up sharply. "It is your business, Mulder." Her voice dropped to a mere whisper, "Everything about me is your business." At this, she offered me a tight smile and took a deep breath. "He was recently divorced. I met him in a bar," she looked at me through her eyelashes, ashamed. I squeezed her upper arm quickly in reassurance and prompted her to continue. "Well, I was feeling - horrible. About life. Everything. We started talking and hit it off really well. I guess I'd had a little too much to drink." She paused and chuckled. "Okay, *way* too much to drink. "Anyway, long story short, from that night on we met frequently. It was pathetically sad, actually. Neither of us could deal with our loss, so we took what we needed from each other and agreed not to get emotionally involved." *That* shocked the hell out of me. Never did I think I'd see the day that Dana Scully would resort to casual sex. Well, maybe that once, but everyone's allowed a slip once in a while. It made me wonder what had pushed her to that point - which loss finally drove her to it? There were so damn many, and my name was indelibly engraved on every one of them. "Scully, what could've been so terrible that you would do this to yourself?" It was so self-destructive, so completely unlike her. What in the world must she have been thinking? I thought I had a pretty firm grasp of the ideals she held dear, but this threw me for a loop. Something had happened while I wasn't looking to make her so vulnerable, to make her abandon those ideals. She sighed wearily, looking down again as she spoke. "Mulder, I just- I don't know what it is that we have here. Nothing's been established. I'm not sure what you want-" I couldn't believe that after what we'd just done, she still wasn't sure what she means to me. Did she really think I was capable of taking advantage of her? Okay, I told myself, calm down. I gave her a minute, patiently willing my doubts and fears to subside. Suddenly, she looked up and stared unwaveringly into my eyes. "I thought I'd lost you, Mulder. There was just nothing left for me anymore. With Aidan, there was a way to dull the edges - for both of us." Seeing the pleading look in her glistening eyes, I began to understand the full impact of what was going on. For the second time that night, I wondered how I could've been so blind. She'd been wilting right in front of my eyes, sliding further and further away from who she was and all she held sacred. And the source of her despondency was me. God, I didn't deserve her. I took a moment to digest all of this, the weight and impact of it. Probably a little too long. "I'll understand if you want to go-" she began, rising. I yanked her back down to my side. "I never want to go, Scully. None of that matters to me. *This* is all that matters." I squeezed her tightly to punctuate my point. "And I'm so sorry, Scully. So sorry." She bit her lip, still looking so unsure. My little skeptic. "Since you've been so honest with me, I think it's only fair that I reciprocate." Her eyes widened and it made me want to hold her and soothe the pain I'd caused for the rest of our lives. "I thought I was in love with Bianca, but that was only after I gave up the hope that it would ever happen with us." I cupped her beautiful face gently, wanting her so badly to understand. "Don't you see, Scully? She was a replacement too. I tried so hard to be in love with someone that wasn't you and I only ended up failing miserably. Failing *us*. There's only you, Scully. There can only be you." She smiled a full, toothy smile, a rare gift indeed. I could drown in those smiles, write sonnets and paint masterpieces about those incredible treasures. So I'm a sap. What do you want? I'm in love. "Only us, Mulder. All I want is us." ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ~EPILOGUE~ I have tasted pure joy. It's an intoxicating and heady elixir, doled out in generous quantities by the man who I was first afraid to love, then forbidden to love. Now we belong to each other, minds melded as completely as our bodies. I finally have contentment. The colors have returned and the rain has spent itself, leaving in its wake the intense vibrancy of the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen. They echo the colors of my soul. ~THE END~ ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Author's Notes: Eternal thanks to my amazing beta, Mimic, for all your patience and encouragement. Thanks to you, I was able to laugh at my mistakes rather than stress over them! I would've *never* made it without you! This story is dedicated to Cassie, The Sponge, without whom I would never have found fanfiction. I'm forever in your debt for giving me this wonderful gift. And also to the incredibly talented writers that continue to provide this gift, never allowing Mulder and Scully (and company) to fade into the past. Thank you. Feedback graciously accepted at: PiperSargasso@aol.com