From starbuck72@netaxis.ca Sat Feb 22 11:10:10 1997 Recovery (1/1) by Leyla Harrison I'm baaack!!! I know, I'm cranking these babies out, but I can't help it. There's just too much activity going on in my evil little brain from all the great episodes I've seen as of late. Not to mention the great acting from Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny. So here's my post-Memento Mori contribution. For the archivists: MSR, rated mildly NC-17 for language and sexual situations. Spoilers for Leonard Betts, Never Again, and Memento Mori. Summary: Scully suffers some serious angst over her diagnosis. A little conversation between her and Mulder in the office leads to much more. Disclaimers: The characters of Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Melissa Scully, Margaret Scully and Walter Skinner are the creation of Chris Carter and 1013 Productions and are used also without permission. I'll give 'em back when I'm good and ready to. Readers who pay *really* close attention will notice that I've stolen one line from Anne Rice's book Exit to Eden without permission. No infringement is intended. ****** OK, so I have cancer. No big deal, right? I walked into the Bureau building, carefully trying to avoid main hallways, trying to stay out of sight. I knew that Skinner would keep his word about keeping it all confidential, but still scared that people would still somehow have found out. I passed a few people on my way down to the basement. They were staring at me. Weren't they? They knew. Oh, God, they knew. I shook myself inwardly. Don't, Dana, I told myself. It's just the usual stares. The usual people who thought of me as Mrs. Spooky. The people who I knew whispered behind my back. Behind Mulder's back. The same stares that he and I always got. Those slight, careful half glances that you wouldn't notice if you weren't paying attention, but you would know if you looked carefully. These were the people who wondered about us. About our work. About the X-Files. It was nothing. I finally made it down to the basement and to safety. There was no one down there. I pushed open the door to the office, expecting Mulder to have beaten me into work that morning. He wasn't there. A bit surprised, I navigated my way into the office by the light from the hall and made my way over to Mulder's desk to turn on the light there. I turned around. I took a small, sharp breath. There was a desk across from Mulder's. Close to his, without facing it directly. A beautiful desk. Made of polished dark wood. Atop it was a desk blotter, a pencil holder, a computer, a phone. And a name plate. Dr. Dana K. Scully, Special Agent. I blinked back tears as I heard footsteps in the hall. "Hey, Scully," he greeted me softly, from behind me. "How are you?" I turned to face him. "It wasn't about the desk, you know," I told him, feeling self-conscious and stupid. He nodded, a faint trace of a smile playing on his lips. "I know," he answered. "I just thought you might like to, you know, have one anyhow." I went over to the desk and pulled out the chair, sat down. I slowly slid open the drawers, looking inside each one. There was a drawer with space for files. As a matter of fact, blank ones had already been put in, just waiting for me to file things away. There was a drawer for small items, and there were already paper clips, staples and erasers in that drawer. Mulder certainly had gone to a lot of trouble to make this good. I looked up at him. He was still standing in the center of the room expectantly. "I had the computer hooked up to the printer, so we can share it. I also had your hard drive from the office upstairs transferred down here. That way you won't have to keep running back and forth from up there to down here when you want to work on something." I swallowed. He had done this because I had asked about it, or because he didn't want me to have to face everyone upstairs? "Mulder --" "If there's anything you need that I forgot, just let me know. I made the clerks upstairs crazy - you know how they are about spending money on office supplies. But it was worth it." I swallowed. Or he did it because he knew I was weaker than I should have been. The chemo and the radiation, although over, had still left my system compromised. I wasn't my usual 100%, and wouldn't be for another few weeks. Suddenly, another reaction welled up in me, so quickly and fiercely that I hardly had time to stop it. "Worth it?" I asked, almost incredulous. "So this was about pity? Poor Scully, can't have her running up and down the stairs like she used to? Did you want me to have a desk in here so that I can do all your paperwork while you're out chasing down monsters and mutants and extraterrestrials?" Mulder shook his head slightly, confused. "Scully, that's not what this was about - " I didn't let him finish. "Mulder, I'm perfectly able to do all the things I used to do. I'm still able to work. I'm not in my prime, granted, but in a few weeks I'll be back to my normal self. I'll still be able to go out on cases with you. I'm still your partner, damn it." My voice was louder than it needed to be, and I was angry. "I'm still going to be at your side, assuming that's where you still want me." My words were bitter. "Of course I still want you--" Mulder looked at me. "How you could ever think that I wouldn't?" "Because you're standing there, assuming that you can get a desk like this and make it all better. Because you think I can't handle things the way I used to. Because you think I'm weak." I went to the desk and with one sweeping motion with my arm, flung everything off the surface with the exception of the computer. "This doesn't mean shit, Mulder," I yelled. His eyes were wide. I knew he had never, ever, seen me angry like this. Never. I had never felt so unbearably angry at him. So out of control. I was breathing heavily, and I could feel a warm wetness seeping from my nose. Oh, Christ, not now, I thought, touching my nostrils gently with a fingertip. I already knew what I would find. Mulder was staring at me, a mixture of fear and concern all over his face. I brought my fingers down from my nose to look at them. Bright red blood stained the tips. I pulled a tissue from my pocket and dabbed at my nose carefully, trying to soak up all the blood. Mulder continued to watch me, almost afraid to come closer to me or to say anything. "Are you OK, Scully?" he finally asked, fearfully. "Damn it, Mulder, I'm fine. Stop looking at me like that!" I snapped, feeling a sudden sense of deja vu. We had been here before, I knew. But I could feel my fury slipping. It took so much energy to be angry, especially at Mulder. Emotional and physical energy that I couldn't afford to waste. Silence fell over the room for a long moment. "I know you're still my partner, Scully," Mulder said softly, choosing to ignore my angry outburst. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you know that I wouldn't have any other partner but you?" His face was a tight mask of concern and sadness. I fell silent, bowing my head. I knew that. God, what was the matter with me? "Scully, when you told me that you wanted to walk out of that hospital able to work, I knew that you could do that. There's not one thing that you've ever said you were going to do that you didn't end up doing. You're the most strong willed person I've ever known." He looked around the office, at his UFO pictures, at his papers. "Sometimes I think I have more faith in you than I do in all of this," he said softly, gesturing at the walls and at his desk. My mouth fell open slightly. "You do?" I asked softly. He nodded slightly. "When you were gone, Scully, when I had all that time alone, I could only do one thing. I could only focus on one thing. Finding out where you were. Getting you back. I couldn't seem to get myself together while you were gone." I knew only what my mother and Melissa had told me about Mulder while I was missing, and even from them it was very little. It wasn't a very pleasant topic of conversation. And now, with Melissa gone, my mother was the only one who knew what Mulder's behavior was like while I was away. She had told me that he was a mess. An absolute, total wreck. As if he had lost the singularly most important thing in his life. She said he was utterly bereft. Absorbed only in trying to find me. I lowered my head even further, feeling tears threaten again. I suddenly felt very selfish for assuming that Mulder was simply taking pity on me. He would never do that. "Mulder, I'm sorry," I murmured, not able to look at him quite yet. "I just thought..." He moved towards me, slowly, in order not to frighten me, and took me in his arms. I softened immediately, letting him envelop me in the physical and emotional warmth he was offering me, just as he had in the hospital the morning Penny had died. Again, as it had that morning, my head fit just perfectly under his chin. "You know, Scully," he said softly, yet conversationally, "I never wanted anyone to know how much I cared. About you. Not even myself. I didn't want to let myself admit how much you mean to me, because it would hurt all the more when I had to face the fact that I had lost you. When you were missing, I didn't want to believe that you were dead." Silence. "When you showed me those x-rays that day, when you told me that you had cancer, I didn't want to accept it. I mean, we've been through so much - both together and separately - and come through it, that I didn't want to believe that something like that could get the better of you. You're stronger than that, Scully." I didn't know what to say. Finally, I cleared my throat anxiously and pulled away from his slightly, enough to look up into his warm hazel eyes. "I guess I just overreacted, Mulder. I'm sorry." What I really wanted to say was, I had no idea you felt this way, Mulder. I mean, I knew, but I never dreamed you would ever tell me. He leaned down, taking my face in his again, like he had in the hospital that early morning. He leaned down. I knew what was next, and I was actually looking forward to feeling his warm lips on my forehead, soothing me. I closed my eyes, and the next thing I felt was Mulder's lips covering mine and a shot of an electrical spark go through my body. My eyes flew open, and I pulled from him. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Scully, I --" "Christ, Mulder!" I exclaimed, unable to think of anything else to say. I put a hand over my mouth, touching my lips, as if he had done something to them. He had. He'd kissed them. And I had pushed him away. Oh, my God. I turned to look at him. He looked scared and guilty. "Mulder, I'm sorry - " "No, Scully, *I'm* sorry, I shouldn't have done that. It was stupid, it was..." "Mulder, will you do me a favor?" I asked, and he nodded. "Will you just shut up?" I kissed him this time, my lips coming into contact with his, again bringing that spark. I moved my mouth over his, slowly, gently, as if testing the softness of his lips. His body remained still. But when I moved my tongue against his lips, they opened and his arms came up, pulling me into an embrace. His tongue came out to meet mine, moving into my mouth, sweeping along my teeth and the sides of my mouth, I knew I was lost. I let out a sigh against his mouth. It was all I could get out. His hands were in my hair, on my body, moving over me, touching me in ways I had never dreamed I would feel from him. I pulled him closer to me, feeling the hardness of his erection against my stomach, rubbing against him, reveling in his throaty gasp as I did that. "Scully," he murmured against my mouth, "Scully, oh, God..." I pulled him back, towards my new desk, and he pulled me onto it in one sure movement, moving to be on top of me. For a brief second I couldn't believe this was actually happening, that Mulder was kissing me, that he and I were on a desk here in the basement of the Bureau building, that he was on top of me, rubbing insistently against me. I realized with a rush that it *was* happening, that we were about to do something very, very serious, that we were about to take our relationship to a whole new, unexplored level. "Scully, I don't want to hurt you. I'm crushing you," he whispered, his lips at my ear, placing light kisses along the soft skin there, along the base of my neck. "No, you're not, don't worry," I answered, fearful that he would stop. I realized with a rush that we were about to break every rule in the book. That we were doing something so outside of Bureau policy that it could get us caught. That if the wrong people found out about what we were doing, that we could be killed. But I didn't want him to stop. "Don't stop, please, Mulder," I implored him. "I won't," he promised, kissing me on the mouth again, his hands stroking the sides of my body. I could feel his fingertips just grazing the shapes of my breasts, through the cloth, and I gasped, arching against him, wanting more. "Please, Mulder," I pleaded, "please..." And he understood; he slowly moved his hands up, his fingers moving softly, his thumbs finally flickering over my already hardened nipples, and I cried out. Mulder groaned in what I knew was arousal as he watched my response to his seduction. He moved his hips slightly, enough so that I could feel his erection right where I wanted to feel it, and I wanted him to take his clothes off so that I could really feel it, where it belonged, inside of me. Before I could begin to tug at his clothes, he moved again, slightly, creating a friction between my legs that was unbearably delicious, and completely erotic in nature, and again I cried out. His mouth was at my ear again, whispering to me. "You like that?" he asked, and all I could do was nod, as he was now moving again. I flashed on something from when I was a teenager. What we were doing was what I had done a million times with boys from school; in the back seats of cars or on beds in spare rooms at parties. The boys would run up against me, creating the friction I wanted and needed so badly, and I remembered that I could have an orgasm that way, without having to deal with the consequences of actually having intercourse with them. "Mulder," I whispered, "we should get out of here, we should..." I wanted to explain to him that I wanted to face those consequences with him, that I wanted to make love with him, that I wanted to feel him, hard and hot and smooth, inside me. I didn't know how to tell him. And he was moving, rocking his hips against me, faster, and a little more forcefully, and I was losing the ability to speak at all, because he had somehow managed to get his erection right at the point between my legs where it was pressing against me, against my clit, somehow, and I was moaning, moving with him, holding him to me, praying Skinner wouldn't walk in, praying we wouldn't get caught, praying most of all that he wouldn't stop. The buildup of sensation came too quickly for me to realize that it was going to happen. All at once, I clutched at his back and arched up. "Mulder!" I cried, sharply. "Oh, Scully," he moaned, and as I came in an explosion, I felt him shuddering against me, holding me close to him, and I held him as well. He pressed his lips to mine in a gentle, loving kiss. Moments went by, and he finally helped me up from the desk. We were both flushed and rumpled, and I had a hard time looking at him. "Scully, listen," he said finally, "what just happened - I think..." I looked up at him and waited for him to finish. "I know we've both probably done that before." I nodded. "I think we should get out of here. Go home. Do it right." I gaped at him. "Are you serious?" I asked, meaning to have kept that thought in my head. "Dana, I love you," he blurted out. "I want to be inside your body the next time you come, not just up against you," he said in a low voice. I shivered slightly, feeling aroused, inexplicably, yet again. I nodded at him. "I love you too, Mulder." He took my hand and led me from the office. ******* "Has she discovered the truth yet?" A click of a lighter, then a cloud of smoke rose from the chair. "No, not yet. She still believes that she has cancer." The older man took a long, slow drag on his cigarette. "Once the effects of the chemotherapy and radiation wear off, and she goes for another x-ray, she'll be told that she's gone into remission. Made an astounding recovery." "That doesn't seem to do our agenda much good." "Agent Scully's 'condition' has deterred Mulder from his search for the truth. I believe for the time being that he will focus on helping her to get well." "And once she does?" "Agent Scully's system has still been compromised. People with 'cancer' can also come out of remission. Just because our link to this has been destroyed doesn't mean that she can't have another occurrence of a tumor." The man took another long drag from his cigarette and then blew the smoke out slowly. "I think that Mulder can be very strongly influenced by what happens to Agent Scully. And that is what I believe we need to focus on. We can use Agent Scully as a pawn. To control him." He stubbed out his cigarette. ****** OK, so I know that leaves everyone hanging, but...I had to do it!! Thoughts, comments? Send 'em on over to me...I'm waiting.... Leyla -- "Meanwhile, I've quit my job with the FBI and become a spokesperson for the Ab-Roller." --Dana Scully, The X-Files