TITLE: Sweet Dreams (1/1) AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: darknesslight@aol.com CLASSIFICATION: SRA RATING: NC-17 (for explicit sexual content) ARCHIVE: Gossamer, NO; Spookys, NO (I'll submit directly to both); Ephemeral, YES; Xemplary, YES; anywhere else, YES, but if possible please let me know SPOILERS: Patient X/The Red and the Black, FTF, The Beginning, Triangle. SUMMARY: "Mulder... what did you mean? 'I love you'?" (set immediately post-Triangle) DATE POSTED TO ATXC: 04/27/00 FEEDBACK: Encouraged and welcomed at darknesslight@aol.com DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century Fox Television and Ten Thirteen Productions. The show, its premise and characters were created by Chris Carter and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be realized. (I've also borrowed the name of a character from Carter's "Millennium" as a pseudonym. Same disclaimer applies.) AUTHOR'S NOTE: I love watching the reruns on FX, especially since I'm still kinda new to writing fanfic. I'm usually inspired, but the stories rarely come to me fully formed. This one did. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ SWEET DREAMS by Lara Means "Scully?" "Yes?" "I love you." "Oh, brother..." She walked away. She rolled her eyes and walked away. Oh, Christ. What the fuck did I do? I could still feel where she hit me in 1939. I could still feel her kiss on my lips. I could still see her gentle, indulgent smile. Looking at me like I was cracked. Well, more cracked than usual. I couldn't blame her for not believing me. I had no idea what was in the IV, but judging by how I felt I was sure it was pretty powerful. And our recent history wouldn't necessarily lead her to think I meant it when I said I love her. What did I expect her to say? 'Oh, Mulder, I love you too, please make love to me...' God, I'm tired. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ She stands in front of me, those azure eyes sparkling, those ruby lips quirked in a tiny smile. "You did it. You saved the world." "I guess I did." She takes a step closer. Her arms are crossed in front of her, under her breasts. It's cool on deck, and her nipples stand at attention. Or is that for me? "So. I suppose that means you'll exist in the future after all. Right?" "Yeah." I move closer to her still. I trace my fingers along her upper arms, feel the goosebumps. "And me? Will I exist in the future? In nineteen...?" "Ninety-eight." Her eyebrow arches, and I smile. "Sixty years from now?" I nod and she closes the gap between us. My fingers encircle her arms as she uncrosses them, her hands finding my biceps, her thumbs slipping under the sleeves of my tee-shirt. Her touch is gentle, tracing tiny non-patterns on my skin. I, on the other hand, hold her so tight I'll probably leave little finger-shaped bruises. "What's her name?" "Scully. Dana." "What's she like?" I smile again. "You. Strong and smart, brave... never takes any crap from anybody..." "Including you?" "Especially me." She comes closer, backing me up against the rail. She shifts a bit, sliding her hands from my arms to my chest. My fingers release her arms and move to her back, encountering bare skin. She shivers -- because of the breeze, or my touch? I trace my fingertips up her spine on the off chance that it's me, and she scratches her nails between my pecs. "You kiss your Dana the way you kissed me?" "I've never kissed my Dana." She gives me the eyebrow again. "Why the hell not?" I shrug, quivering as her fingernails trace those same non- patterns around my nipples. I pull her closer to me, kneading her back, her shoulder blades. My thumbs caress her shoulders, her collarbones. "You scared?" She lightly grazes my cheek, where the bruise will show soon. "Afraid she'll hit you too?" She threads her fingers through my hair as I shake my head. "Afraid she doesn't love me... not like I love her." She pulls me to her, stands on tiptoe, touches her lips to mine. "Tell her." Another gentle kiss. "Tried." I can't catch my breath. My trembling fingers play at the buttons on her dress. She nips at my lower lip, presses her body against me. "Show her, then." Her tongue darts out and I open my mouth to her. "Show me." I tug her closer, against my straining erection, my tongue exploring her mouth, hers exploring mine. Suddenly, inexplicably, we're no longer on deck. She's lying beneath me, naked, sinking into the softest down and the finest linen. I'm above her, holding her, poised to enter her. We're still kissing, our hands roaming. I pull my lips from hers and rain kisses down her neck as she scratches those crimson nails up my back. I capture one perfect breast in my mouth, my tongue swirling around her nipple. I hear her moan as my hand moves between her legs, stroking her slick folds. She gasps when I dip my fingers inside her -- I gasp myself at the heat and wetness I find there. She arches her back, thrusts her hips against my hand. My thumb finds her clitoris, circles it, flicks it. She nudges my hand away and reaches for my cock. Her tiny hand wraps around it, pumping once, twice, then guiding me to her opening. I feel her breath at my ear. "Tell me..." "Love you." "Tell me." "I love you." She takes my face in her hands, and I'm lost in the deep ocean of her eyes. "Show me." She wraps her legs around me as I plunge into her. She shudders, matches my movements stroke for stroke, tightens her inner walls around me. Oh god the feel of her, the smell of her, the taste of her... "Scully... I love you..." ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ "...love you... Scully..." "Mulder." Touching her... tasting her... pounding into her... "Mulder. Come on, now." Mine... my love... my Scully... "Wake up, Mulder. It's just a dream..." Those eyes. Those impossibly blue eyes. Concern clouding them. Her hand caressing my arm. A dream. Fuck. It was just a dream. "Scully..." She smiled. "Hey there." She stroked my face with a damp cloth, cool and soothing. "You're all sweaty. Must've been some dream." You have no idea. I was just glad to be lying on my side, so she couldn't see my aching hard-on. Unless... Oh, fuck. She lowered the rail and moved to sit on the bed next to me. Scully, please... I tried to scoot back a little but it didn't help -- she noticed. I squeezed my eyes shut, then felt her caress my arm. I looked at her then, and she smiled a little. It wasn't a mocking smile. Hell, Scully's a doctor, she knows men get erections -- especially when they've been dreaming about... about... Her hand kept up its gentle movements with the cloth, across my forehead, down my cheeks, down my throat, down to my chest then back again. She paused, brows furrowing, as I winced when the cloth passed over my left jaw. "Mulder... your face is bruised. Did you hit your head on the bed rail?" I shook my head. "You hit me." She looked shocked. "I..." "In 1939." Shock gave way to yet another gently indulgent smile. "Oh." "You don't believe me." Her eyes flickered to the IV, pumping who knows what kind of beneficial drugs into my system. "Mulder, you had a head injury..." "Whatever you say, Scully." She looked away, folded the damp cloth and placed it on the bedside table. "Why did I hit you, Mulder?" I waited until her eyes found mine again. "Because I kissed you." Her lips parted slightly in surprise. I sat up, took her hand in mine. "I thought I'd never see you again. I wanted... I didn't want to wink out of existence without doing that at least once." She glanced down, at my thumb caressing the back of her hand. "Mulder, that wasn't me." "Well, whoever it was, she's got a mean right hook." That got a smile from her, and she met my eyes again. "Did she look like me?" "Yes, but no -- I mean, red hair, blue eyes... but her hair was shorter, darker red, and done in... what do you call 'em... finger waves." "Finger waves?" "The height of fashion in 1939." I laced my fingers with hers. She looked at our hands, joined together, and I continued. "But it was more than that. She had your strength. Your courage. Intelligence. Your passion. I knew, if anyone could save the world, it would be you." "Her." I leaned forward, lifted her chin, willed her to look at me. "*You*." I let my hand drop, but her gaze didn't waver. She didn't say anything for a long moment. Then... "Mulder... what did you mean? 'I love you'?" I blinked at her. I'd thought it was pretty self-explanatory. She saw my confusion, went on. "Was it 'you're a great partner, I love you'? Or 'you're my best friend, I love you'? Or 'thanks for saving my life, I love you'?" She really didn't know. I told her, but she still didn't know. "All of the above, and more, Scully. I love you. It's that simple." "It *can't* be that simple." She got up, moved restlessly around the room. "Our lives are too complicated, we've been through too much for it to be that simple." "For me it is. Scully, I love you. I've loved you for a long time." She stopped moving, didn't look at me. She spoke very softly. "You said my name." She glanced up at me then. "That's why I came in. You said my name in your sleep." Shit. Her eyes were like laser beams boring a hole through me, through all the walls and layers of denial I've built up over the years. Past the mechanisms I had in place to keep my desperate need for her from showing through. "Tell me your dream, Mulder." No, Scully, please don't make me say it... "Tell me." I closed my eyes, shutting out the onslaught of her gaze. I exhaled, licked suddenly dry lips. "I was back on the ship. You... *she* believed me. Turned the ship around. She saved the world, at the cost of her own life." I opened my eyes then, gave her a lopsided grin. "The least I could do was say thanks." She nodded, waited. She wanted to hear it all. "She asked if she existed in the future. So I told her about you. Then she asked if I kissed you the way I kissed her." Scully quirked an eyebrow, and I laughed quietly. "What?" "She did that too. The eyebrow thing." She smiled, shook her head a little. I could tell what she was thinking, that my hallucination was amazingly complete. I pressed on. "I told her I'd never kissed you. She wanted to know why, what I was afraid of." She stared at me, into me. Her voice got very soft. "What are you afraid of, Mulder?" I couldn't tear my eyes from hers. She would've seen right through me anyway. "You. What I feel for you." She took a step toward me, then another. "Tell me the rest, Mulder." I shut my eyes again, swallowed hard. "Please?" I couldn't look at her, but I knew I had to continue. "She kissed me. *You* kissed me. You touched me, I held you... I made love to you on a big feather bed in a first-class cabin on board the Queen Anne." I opened my eyes then, and found that she had closed the distance between us. She stood next to the bed, her hands at her side, her eyes now locked with mine. I was stunned by what I saw there. Anguish. She blinked, and I realized there were tears in her eyes. "Scully..." I reached out to her, but she took a step back, away from me. "What do you want from me, Mulder? What do you expect of me?" I let my hand drop, gave her a gentle smile. "That's two different things, Scully." My smile faded and I studied the intricate weaving of my blanket. "What I expect is that we'll go on like we always have. You'll forget I said it, I'll pretend to forget... It'll be like nothing ever happened. That's what we're good at." I found her eyes again -- there was such a mix of emotions there. Regret, longing, affection, maybe a hint of desire... But there was so much confusion, I knew I couldn't tell her what I really wanted, what I needed from her. I couldn't reveal to her my heart's true desires, that all I wanted at this moment was to hold her and touch her and kiss her until neither of us could breathe... "What I want..." I couldn't look into her eyes and lie, so I tugged at a loose thread in the sheet. "I just want you to let me love you. And maybe... maybe love me back a little. If you can." I sighed, shrugged. "And if you can't, then that's okay too..." "*No*." The vehemence in Scully's voice startled me, and I had to look up at her. The tears in her eyes threatened to fall at any second. She put her hand over mine, held it tightly. "It's *not* okay, Mulder. You deserve so much more than that, more than I can possibly give you..." I started to shake my head but her hands cupped my face and held it still. She sat on the bed next to me, close to me, and I reached up to wipe away her tears. "You once told me that you owe me everything and I owe you nothing. That's not true, Mulder, I... I owe you my *life*. You came for me at Ruskin Dam, you came for me in Antarctica, you..." I pulled her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair, letting her cry on my shoulder. "Hey... let's not start keeping score, okay?" She sat back, sniffling, a strangled laugh escaping from her lips. I ran my thumbs over her cheeks, then she took my hands between hers. She took a deep, calming breath, then looked into my eyes. And she saw what I tried to hide. My want, my need, my love. "Mulder... I want to love you the way you want me to... the way you love me. But I can't. Not now." Stunned, I let the walls, the barriers fall away and faced her with my emotions laid bare. "Are you saying... I missed my chance with you?" She smiled, brought my hands to her lips, kissed them. "No, Mulder, I'm saying... There are just too many obstacles right now." Work. Kersh. Spender. Diana. Obstacles. I laughed a little. "So you're saying my timing is lousy." She laughed too. "It could use a little work, yeah." I reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear, let my fingers linger on her cheek. "We can get through the obstacles, Scully. If you're willing." "Yes, Mulder, I'm willing." "Then I can wait until we're on the same page." Her eyebrow shot up and I smiled. "I'm a very patient man, Scully." She turned her head, pressed her lips to my palm. Then she reached out and touched my jaw, where her doppelganger slugged me. Our eyes met, and something sparked between us. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I would never hit you if you kissed me." "Promise?" "Promise." My hand slipped behind her neck as hers moved to my chest. We came together slowly, our eyes drifting shut as our lips met. Hers were parted slightly, and my tongue teased at them. Her mouth softened and our tongues met, caressed, danced, explored. As much as I wanted to kiss her forever, I forced myself to pull away. I held her close, our foreheads touching, both of us breathing hard. "You should go, Scully. Get some rest." "That's my line." We sat back and stared at each other, both knowing that something had shifted between us, but neither of us wanting to address it directly. I gave her a tiny grin. "Then we both should get some rest." She stood up, our eyes, our hands still linked. "Thanks for not hitting me, Scully." She smiled and gave my fingers a squeeze, then let go and backed away toward the door. "Sweet dreams, Mulder." I returned her smile and lay back down as she turned to go, closing the door softly behind her. Sweet dreams, indeed. END --------------- "I've been called a lot of things, Detective. Skeptical, however, is not one of them." - Mulder, 'Mind's Eye' Written by Lara Means: X-Files Fan Fiction (new URL) - http://www.geocities.com/larameans_2000 ------------------------- TITLE: Dream a Little Dream AUTHOR: Lara Means E-MAIL: darknesslight@aol.com CLASSIFICATION: SRA RATING: NC-17 (for explicit sexual content) ARCHIVE: Gossamer, NO; Spookys, NO (I'll submit directly to both); Ephemeral, YES; Xemplary, YES; anywhere else, YES, but if possible please let me know SPOILERS: Chinga, Triangle. (Post-ep for Triangle; sequel to my story "Sweet Dreams.") SUMMARY: "What do you want, Scully?" / "What I can't have." DATE POSTED TO ATXC: 05/18/00 FEEDBACK: Encouraged and welcomed at darknesslight@aol.com DISCLAIMER: "The X-Files" is copyright Twentieth Century Fox Television and Ten Thirteen Productions. The show, its premise and characters were created by Chris Carter and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be realized. (I've also borrowed the name of a character from Carter's "Millennium" as a pseudonym. Same disclaimer applies.) AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hadn't intended to write a sequel to "Sweet Dreams" -- it was just a little stand-alone post-ep story. But several people mentioned that they'd like to see one, and I figured that Scully might not be able to get to sleep right away, so... enjoy. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DREAM A LITTLE DREAM by Lara Means I can't sleep. And it wasn't just the lumpy cot in the doctors' on-call room. That had something to do with it, of course, but that wasn't the real reason. I couldn't get that kiss out of my mind. Mulder's kiss. I could still feel his lips on mine, his tongue caressing mine... Damn him. He had to say it. He had to go and say he loves me. If he hadn't said it, everything would've been fine. But no, he had to say it. He had to tell me. Damn him. And then *I* had to complicate matters and ask him about his dream. His *erotic* dream. About me. Well... the 1939 me. I care about Mulder. I really do. I suppose one could say that I love him. As my partner, my best friend, I do love him. That's only natural. We've been together for six years now, I trust him with my life. He's saved my life more times than I can count, and I've saved his. Partners should care about each other like that. And I'm very, um... attracted to him. Sexually. Which is decidedly *not* how partners should care about each other. So I fight how I feel about him. Emotionally, physically. It isn't easy, but I do it. I have to. Because he said he loves me. Because he kissed me. Because he dreamed about making love to me. God, I'm tired. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ He stands in front of me, a goofy grin on his face. I didn't realize it before, but he's a very good-looking man. "You did it. You saved the world." "I guess I did." I take a step closer, crossing my arms beneath my breasts. Partly because it's breezy out here on deck. Partly so he'll notice them. I smile. It worked. "So. I suppose that means you'll exist in the future after all. Right?" "Yeah." He moves closer this time, tentatively reaches out to me. He traces his fingertips along my upper arms, feels the goosebumps. Causes a few more. "And me? Will I exist in the future? In nineteen...?" "Ninety-eight." My eyebrow arches, and he smiles. I'm not sure why such a simple gesture gets me that smile, but I like it. "Sixty years from now?" He nods and I close the gap between us. His fingers grip my arms as I uncross them. My own hands find his biceps, my thumbs slipping under the sleeves of his snug-fitting tee-shirt. Dear God in Heaven. I don't even know this man, and I have to touch him. "What's her name?" "Scully. Dana." "What's she like?" He smiles again. "You. Strong and smart, brave... never takes any crap from anybody..." "Including you?" "Especially me." I step closer, backing him up against the rail. I have to feel him, to touch him. I shift a bit, sliding my hands from his arms to his chest. He releases my arms, moves his hands to my back, encountering bare skin. I shiver involuntarily -- how can a total stranger arouse me like this? He traces his fingertips up my spine, and I scratch my nails down his muscular chest. "You kiss your Dana the way you kissed me?" "I've never kissed my Dana." I'm confused. He obviously cares about this woman. "Why the hell not?" He shrugs. I can feel him quiver as my nails trace absent patterns around his nipples. He pulls me closer, kneading my back, my shoulder blades. His thumbs caress my shoulders, my collarbones. "You scared?" I reach up to stroke his cheek, where I hit him before. After he kissed me. I would gladly volunteer to be Hitler's love slave if only this beautiful man would kiss me again. "Afraid she'll hit you too?" He shakes his head, and I thread my fingers through his silky hair. "Afraid she doesn't love me... not like I love her." His confession makes me unbearably sad. I pull him to me, stand on tiptoe, touch my lips to his. "Tell her." I give him another gentle kiss, growing bolder. "Tried." I feel his fingers at my back, playing at the buttons on my dress. This man, this remarkable man, is here in my arms, telling me how much he loves another woman. I want to comfort him, to make him feel loved in return. All I can do is offer myself to him, a substitute for his Dana. I nip at his full, sensuous lower lip and press my body against him. "Show her, then." My tongue darts out and he opens his mouth to me. I'm yours, my love. "Show me." He tugs me closer, and I can feel his arousal, hot and hard against me. My tongue explores his mouth, his explores mine. Suddenly, inexplicably, we're no longer on deck. I'm lying beneath him, both of us naked, sinking into the softest down and the finest linen. He's above me, holding me, poised to enter me. We're still kissing, our hands roaming. He pulls his lips from mine and rains kisses down my neck. My nails rake up his back -- I think I've drawn blood. I gasp when he captures my breast with those luscious lips. His tongue swirls around the nipple and it hardens immediately. I let out a moan as his hand moves between my legs, stroking my already slick folds. I gasp again when he pushes his fingers inside me. How can I be this excited, this wet, from the touch of this man? I realize I don't care how or why when his thumb brushes against me -- dear lord, that's incredible. My hips have a mind of their own, and I thrust against his hand. I have to have more. I must feel him inside me. I nudge his hand away and reach for him. I stroke him once, twice, then guide him to me. But I need to hear it. "Tell me..." "Love you." "Tell me." "I love you." I take his face in my hands, willing him to see her, to see his Dana in my eyes. "Show me." I wrap my legs around him and feel him enter me -- I shudder at the sensation of being filled by him. He plunges into me, and I thrust up to meet him. We find a rhythm, our strokes in sync. I tighten my legs around his waist, tighten my inner walls around his erection, shivering in anticipation of our shared release. "Scully... I love you..." Scully. His Dana. Yes, angel. She loves you, too... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ I've never really believed it when people in the movies sit bolt upright in bed after a dream. Until it happened to me. I snapped awake, sweating, breathing hard -- at the instant we came. Mulder. And me. Her. Whoever. Jesus, I haven't had a wet dream in years. Well... months. When I was in Maine. That one was about him, too. I stood up too quickly and swayed a little, dizzy. I leaned against the wall to steady myself, shoving my feet into my shoes. I had to see him. I practically ran down the hall, slowing as I neared his room. He'd been injured, he needed his rest. He was probably sedated, sound asleep by now. My heart pounding, I pushed the door open anyway. He was lying on his back now. The lights were dimmed, casting the room in shadows. I took a few steps inside, let the door drift shut behind me. I moved closer to him and studied my sleeping partner. His face looked so serene. In sleep, the lines on his forehead, around his mouth... they just disappeared. I walked slowly, quietly, to the far side of the bed and lowered the railing there. I sat down, my hips near his, my hand on the other side of his waist, bracing me. His arm was across his stomach, fingers splayed. His hair was sweaty and unruly -- I couldn't stop myself, I reached out and brushed it off his forehead. He jerked awake, eyes searching. "What..." "Shh... it's just me, go back to sleep." His eyes found mine, but he was still mostly asleep. "Scully?" "Yes, Mulder, it's me. I'm sorry I woke you, go back to sleep." My fingers still ran through his hair, stroked his forehead, hoping to soothe him. Instead, he came slowly awake. "That feels nice..." He looked up at me then, smiled. "It's late. Thought you left." "I did. I came back." "How come?" I shrugged. "Couldn't sleep." He laughed a little. "Should try some of this." He jiggled his other arm, the one with the IV in it. I smiled at him, took his other hand in mine. "Actually, I did sleep a little. Then I woke up. Wanted to see you." He raised his eyebrows in question. I just squeezed his hand and smiled gently. "I, uh... I had a dream." His eyes grew wide and his voice became a whisper. "About what?" "You. And me." I paused, let that sink in. "We were on the ship, on deck. I was wearing a long, dark red gown... and my hair was done up in finger waves." We laughed a little at that, then I looked into his eyes and my voice got soft again. "You told me about Dana. About how much you love her. And I kissed you... and touched you... and held you..." My eyes drifted closed as I continued. "I made love to you on a big feather bed in a first-class cabin on board the Queen Anne." My eyes still shut, I felt his hand -- the one I didn't have a death-grip on -- caress my face. I leaned into his touch and whispered again. "Did we have the same dream, Mulder?" "Sounds like it." I opened my eyes then -- a sleepy grin graced his lips. "How is that possible?" He just continued to stroke my face. "I think, Scully, that you and I have a... a connection. I can't explain it, but it's there. I think maybe this happens a lot, we just don't realize it. We don't talk about it." The touch of his hand on my cheek was soothing... comforting... arousing. Like I needed any more arousing tonight. I shivered when his thumb lightly grazed my lips. "There's so much we don't talk about, Scully. Too much." True to form, neither of us said anything for a moment. We stared into each other's eyes, touched each other's faces. I smiled weakly. "Well, there's that connection we have..." Mulder let out an almost sad little laugh. He dropped his eyes, let his hand fall away from my face. I couldn't look at him, either -- I just squeezed the hand I was holding. "Mulder... what I said before..." "I understand, Scully." "No, please -- just let me say it." I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through his hair again. "Mulder... I care about you so much." He pursed his lips and nodded once, still not looking at me. "And God knows I want you..." He glanced up then -- that seemed to surprise him, despite the fact that I'd just confessed to having an erotic dream about him. "But Mulder, our jobs... they're hanging by a thread as it is. And even though it isn't against policy, if you and I were to become... involved..." "It'd be the perfect excuse." I nodded, felt tears threatening. I willed them not to fall and went on. "Our work is too important, Mulder. We can't afford the risk, not now." "You're right, Scully." I laughed, shook my head. "Wait, let me get my tape recorder." "Always gotta have proof, don't you?" We shared an easy smile, still holding hands. Mulder reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear... let his fingers trail down my cheek, my throat. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, with a touch of sadness. "So we wait. Until our jobs are more secure. Until we can get back on the X-files. Until... until it's safer." "It isn't what I want -- what either of us wants." "What do you want, Scully?" The sadness in his voice was gone, a hint of smoldering sensuality in its place. "What I can't have." When his lips touched mine, it was as if the rest of the world faded away, until Mulder and I were the only people left. I shivered, let my eyes drift shut, threaded my fingers through his hair. I opened my mouth to him, my tongue caressing his. He pulled me close, deepened the kiss. My hand found his chest, and I could feel his heart racing, keeping time with my own. His hand cupped my breast, his thumb circling my taut nipple -- even through three layers of clothing, his touch was electric. I moaned into his mouth... which made him realize what he was doing. I didn't want him to stop -- God, I didn't want him to *ever* stop -- but he broke the kiss and pulled his hand away. Eyes closed, foreheads touching, breathing hard, neither of us said anything for a moment. Then he kissed me gently on the cheek and laid back against the pillows. He didn't look at me. "You should go, Scully. Get some rest." I smiled. We'd had this conversation before. "That's my line." He glanced at his IV again, laughed softly. "I've got good drugs, I'll be fine." I turned his face toward me, and for the first time since I've known him, I couldn't read what was in his eyes. There were too many emotions there -- a little sadness, a remnant of desire, a touch of regret. The regret bothered me the most. I didn't want him to regret telling me he loves me, or kissing me, or touching me -- I wanted that, all of it. Even if we couldn't have everything right now. I caressed his cheek -- the bruise was already forming. The bruise where I hit him in 1939. I still had trouble wrapping my mind around that. I leaned down and placed a soft kiss there. I stayed close, made him look into my eyes. "It won't be easy, Mulder. Waiting. But it'll be worth it." He smiled then, and his eyes were clear. No regret, no sadness. Just love. Well... love and desire. "The best things usually are, Scully." He smoothed my hair back, stared at me for a long moment, then he nodded toward the door. "Go on. I'll see you in the morning." Suddenly I remembered why I needed to see him so desperately after I woke up from the dream. I hesitated, glanced away from him. "Mulder... could I stay with you?" "You sure that's a good idea?" "I can't sleep in the on-call room, and I don't want to go back to the motel. I just... I need to know you're safe." I met his eyes again, silently pleading, hoping he wouldn't send me away. Then he smiled. I returned his smile and stood up. Mulder started to pull the covers back, but I shook my head. "Uh-uh." I motioned for him to roll onto his side, facing the door. He quirked an eyebrow in question, but did it anyway. Kicking off my shoes, I climbed onto the bed, on top of the covers. I pulled the extra blanket over us as I tucked myself in behind him, spooning up against him. Molding my body to his, nuzzling my face into his neck, I slipped my arm around his waist. He twined our fingers together, cradled my hand to his chest. After a long moment, I felt his breathing slow. I knew he was on the edge of sleep -- so was I, but there was something else I had to say. That I needed for him to know. "I was so scared," I whispered. "I was terrified I wouldn't be able to find you. That I couldn't get to you in time. That you would..." I blinked back tears, drew in a shaky breath. "That you would die before I had a chance..." I couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, if he could hear me or not. I didn't care. I had to tell him. "I love you, Mulder." I pressed my lips to the back of his neck... and he squeezed my hand. "Sweet dreams, Scully." I smiled, tightened my arm around him. Maybe I'd dream about him again. Maybe he'd dream about me. Sweet dreams, indeed. END ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ END NOTES (which I don't do that often): The title of this little tale was inspired by a song called "Dream a Little Dream Of Me," which was recorded by Mama Cass Elliott in the late 60's. The title of its predecessor, "Sweet Dreams," was inspired by the song "Sweet Dreams (Of You)," recorded by Patsy Cline in the early 60's. I don't think that qualifies them as 'song-fic,' which I'm not really certain what that is anyway. I just like the titles and thought they fit. Lara Means --------------- "I've been called a lot of things, Detective. Skeptical, however, is not one of them." - Mulder, 'Mind's Eye' Written by Lara Means: X-Files Fan Fiction (new URL) - http://www.geocities.com/larameans_2000