TITLE: Keeping Secrets

AUTHOR: Tygershark

RATING: M for language

SPOILERS: Milagro, FTF

SUMMARY: Post Milagro Vignette What goes through your mind when the secret you thought you had hidden away from the world gets exposed to the light of day? Why did you start keeping them in the first place?

NOTE: This is somewhat of a departure for me. It's shorter than anything I've posted before. Also it's written partly in first person; which I wasn't really sure about, so please let me know if it works at all. Took forever to work the bugs out.

WARNING: Mulder uses a lot of profanities

DISCLAIMER: Insert standard disclaimer here No they aren't mine and they will never be. They belong to some very rich guys in LA No money changes hands, at least not my hands. This is just a shameless plea for feedback.

I notice people, not an unusual statement really. I am a writer, and noticing people is part in parcel to the vocation. I was transfixed the first moment that I saw her. All my life I have studied people and studied human nature. She has been my most compelling subject. There are those people that you can meet once and exchange all of 6 words with; yet they will inhabit your thoughts for the rest of your life. Even many years down the line were you to see them again you would remember every nuance, every expression of that first encounter.

She is such a person, although she would deny that fact, she would say there is nothing remarkable about her. She is the type of person that those who are lucky enough to be close to her wonder why they are so fortunate. This is what he ponders; whatever did he do to merit her allowing him into her heart.

Yes, I noticed him too but only because she led me to him. Their relationship truly staggers the mind. Two perfect partners melded seamlessly. What blinds them so to that gift which they possess? So many hopelessly desperate people suffer in silence because they do not have what these two have and don't acknowledge. Is this compulsively guilt-ridden man even aware how much power she has over him? He towered over her shorter frame but yet she could overpower him with a simple look. This untamed rebel domesticated by her quiet rationale.

Until today I had never seen the way they interact together, I had only observed one or the other alone. But in the jail cell I understood the awesome duet they play. Like a magnificent and impromptu symphony they scream together their songs unsung, sometimes an aria, sometimes a requiem but always in synch.

I sit here in solitude replaying the last few minutes over and over in my mind. Examining what was said and more importantly what was not said. What I believe they've never said to each other, not in words at least. Well that may be inaccurate; he may have at one point found the wherewithal to utter the words. Meager words at best, muttered at the most inopportune time with the most disastrous of results. For how can mere words express the feelings that he cannot understand? I am certain she has never expressed her secret, not to him, or even to herself. For all the words they never say they cannot disguise the actions that speak as loud as a cacophony.

Their actions spoke to me today. In the few short minutes they questioned me they screamed their feelings for each other. From the moment she joined us in the cell I watched them, analyzing their every move.

"No you target..."

"Mulder, not without his lawyer."

He tilted his head toward to her and I could hear the words his eyes spoke to her.

/Scully, come on I thought we were on the same side./

She was displeased with him and that was one thing he couldn't stand, almost as much as he couldn't bear to be without her. Still he pressed on.

"I don't need a lawyer, I'm telling the truth"

"And this is your confession?"

"No that's my novel."

"It's all in there, every detail, every murder all laid out. How'd you do it Mr. Padgett?"

"If I sit long enough it just comes to me."

"The murders?"

"I only knew what was in my mind and wished to express it clearly."

"How 'bout the stranger, is that you?"

It was with that short sentence; seven simple words strung together that I picked up on his feelings. There was no mistaking the jealousy in his even tone. He'd read my manuscript; I would have been very surprised if he had not. He was angry I don't know what angered him more, the horrific slayings or what I'd written about his partner. I decided to test him.

"By their nature words are imprecise and layered with meaning the signs of things not the things themselves. It's difficult to say who's in charge."

I wonder if he knew that I was speaking of their relationship and not my writing. I believe him to be intelligent enough to have at least grasped it on an unconscious level.

I'm not sure what he intended as he approached me; I don't think he knows either. We will never know because even as he took the step she stopped him. Though we both know that physically she could not have done so if not for the power he granted her. It was with that gesture that I knew the extent of my folly. I close my eyes and I can see it again so real as if it were happening anew.

My eyes focused on her hand grasping his arm. Her voice whispering his name in a tone more befitting to a moment of intimacy than a drab jail cell. At the touch of her hand, the sound of his name falling from her lips his anger washed over and away from him. I felt rather than saw him nod to her. Again the words they didn't speak were louder than those they did.

/Please don't do this, Mulder./

/I trust you. I'll let it go./

I knew then that I had misjudged Dana Scully and her partner, Fox Mulder. I had known he had feelings for her. What man wouldn't? But it wasn't till then that I knew for certain that her feelings for him ran just as deep. My disappointment was palpable if unnoticed by the pseudo Romeo & Juliet that exited my new home. They left me only to return scant hours later. Hours that had allowed me to process the information I had gleaned from them.

"Mr. Padgett you can go, we apologize for our mistake you're free to finish your book."

"Thank you..."

Maybe if nothing else, I could help them see what they already knew. Since my intentions had proved fruitless. I would not be able to learn of love from the vision that captivated me. He'd beaten me to her; no one stood a chance next to what they shared.

"I made a mistake, myself."

"What's that Mr. Padgett?"

I turned to face them, for some reason I had to look at their faces when I revealed the dark secret. I needed to see, for the same reason he chose to punish himself with the guilt of his past.

"In my book I'd written that Agent Scully falls in love. But that's obviously impossible."

My next words I directed to him, nodding to him in a salute to the victor. Daring him to accept the truth of my revelation.

"Agent Scully is already in love."

After dropping the words that had all the impact of a 20-megaton bomb Padgett simply walked down the corridor leaving the two agents dumbstruck. They stood there like the proverbial deer stuck in headlights. Perhaps they thought that if they simply made no moves the disclosure would vanish away.

Neither could look at the other, they stood staring at nothing, seeing nothing. Too consumed with the tumult of their chaotic thoughts. Scully thinking /Oh my God, oh my god, how could he have said that, how could he have known?/

Mulder's mind screaming /Oh shit, oh shit, Shitshitshitshitshit/

Both wondering /what the hell do I do now?/

It was unfortunate that neither one considered dealing with it. But it was neither the time nor the place. For two people devoted to seeking the truth they both went to extraordinary lengths to hide from the truth about themselves. They seemed frightened of it, frightened of the other's response. Like they had always done before they gathered their composure and pushed it away. It was Mulder who gathered himself and spoke first.

"Come on Scully we've got to watch him."

He resisted the impulse to tug her arm or guide her out with a hand to her back. He just wanted to catch this guy and he wanted to do whatever he could to break out of this grotesquely awkward moment they were stuck in. Not because he was the cold bastard he portrayed at times or even because he didn't care. He did care, fervently so. Because he cared about her he wanted to take away the embarrassment for both of them. But he knew he was coming off as an asshole. But there was work to do, a killer to stop just as there always was. There was always something more important to do so they forgot that there was something important to be said. But they never really forgot about it, they just pushed it away. Waiting for the right time to come along and bite them in the ass, but it never did. Neither one seemed to realize that if they wanted the truth one of them would have to take the chance.

The surveillance cam had already been set up long before Padgett was released. Just as expected he made a beeline for his empty apartment. While Scully patched the live feed to her laptop Mulder changed out of his suit to jeans and a sweatshirt, thinking if he had to get down and dirty he damn sure wasn't going to trash yet another suit.

Scully stretched out on the couch, her intense stare at the screen had by now faded to a half-bored gaze. God she wondered, how the hell can someone just sit for more than an hour looking at a typewriter? She reached down and tugged off her boots in an attempt to get more comfortable. Well it was better than a stakeout in the car for half the night. She looked up to see Mulder cross to the kitchen she presumed for yet another glass of tea. All she could think was /He'd better not be in the bathroom if something happens./

They hadn't spoken above 10 words to each other since they left the jail. Now the silence had ceased to be uncomfortable it was just there, a buffer, a safety net.

Mulder came back to the living room finally daring to ask.

"Anything?'

"No he's just sitting there staring at the typewriter."

XXXXXXXX

It has been said countless times and in various incantations there are none so blind who will not see. So I have been blind, until I saw them together I had not seen them. Now I truly understood her. She longed for a deeper relationship from her partner even as he longed for her. All this time I'd been blind she could not see me because she was also blinded by her feelings for him. It was all so clear now she is trying to get his attention and only her unconscious mind is aware of that fact. Now as I lay here, my life slipping through my hand, the words of my character echo once again.

"Man imagines that he too can open up his heart and expose the burning passion, the flames of charity. Like the creator himself but this is not in his power."

I hope that he is wrong; no I know that he is wrong. Not about me, he was right about me. But this judgment I know does not apply to Mulder. I saw the passion in his eyes he only needs the urging to expose it to the light of day. Expose it to himself and to his partner. She deserves nothing less.

"A story can have only one true ending. Even as the stranger felt compelled to commit his final words to paper. He did it knowing they must never be read. To see the sum of his work was to see inside his own emptiness the heart of a destroyer not a creator and yet reflected back upon him at last he could see his own ending. And in this final act of destruction he had a chance to give what he could not receive."

XXXXXXXX

I'm sitting here alone on a cold park bench still shaking from today's earlier events. Damnit where the fuck was my uncanny "spookiness" when I really needed it, when she really needed it. I knew there was something wrong I felt the all too familiar cold chill when Scully first told me about meeting Padgett. As our investigation moved on the sensation grew. But like the dumb fuck I am I blew it off. As usual Scully was the one who paid the price for my mistake. If there is a theme to my life then it has to be that I'm always that little bit too late. I can't even take a perverted sense of comfort in having saved her. Because I didn't, Padgett did. Even another sick fuck can take better care of Scully than I can. In the midst of his fantasy he recognized the horror of what he had done. With no other way to stop it he made the ultimate sacrifice to save her from the monster his dementia had created, sacrificing his heart instead of hers.

I'd do anything for Scully, that's an understatement now. I've quite literally gone to the end of the earth for her and I really don't want to imagine what other lengths I'd be willing to go to for her. I've tried to understand this hold we have on each other but for the life of me I can't come up with a suitable explanation. I'm her partner, her best friend, the one she walks through the bowels of hell with on a daily basis. But is that all there is to our dynamic? What is it about us that is so friggin' complicated? This whole thing is so convoluted that I can't see where I'm going half the time. It's kind of like a love song, a very intense, confusing, scary, at times hurtful, crazy little love song. I don't think either one of us knows why we let it get so complicated. I don't know maybe it's only complicated to me. If it's a simple partnership and friendship then I should be able to accept that and end this misery. Instead I sit day after day; night after night tormenting myself, so how much more of a sick fuck does that make me?

XXXXXXXX

Agent Scully is already in love; Agent Scully is already in love AgentScullyisalreadyinlove

AgentScullyisalreadyinlove.

The words just keep pounding in my brain, getting louder and louder till I can't tune them out. Talk about stating the obvious. Padgett knew so much about me, and that scared me, made me want to scramble for cover. In some ways it felt like he was reading my mind and that was sickening. Not at all the way it feels when Mulder does it. He's a trained psychologist and although there are times when we both overlook that. I know he tries to analyze me but he's never made me feel uncomfortable or violated. There's so much trust when I'm with him. I feel like he knows me through and through, but then there are times when it's like he doesn't know me at all. We have all these years of secrets built up, all the words we couldn't say. I know I'm just as much to blame as he is, maybe more so.

All my life I've operated by an unspoken code, never make the first move. Because if I make the first move and it's not a mutual feeling then I'll be the one to look like an idiot. There's no graceful way to recover from that. Of course it's a little different with Mulder. Almost from the beginning he was dropping playful innuendoes. At first I wasn't sure what to think; now it's become an intense game of Poker mixed with Clue. Look for the bluff, keep your wits sharp, look for all the clues and most importantly don't over play your hand. But now the "don't be the first one to say it" rule no longer applies. After all he has said the words, sort of. But the words don't even compare to the deeds. How can you stack three little words against tracking to the ends of the earth for someone? Even with all this we're still keeping our secrets. I try to figure it out but I can come up with no good reason for it. He's everything I ever wanted or needed. He's the compliment to me, strong where I am weak. But I still don't know what stands in our way.

That isn't exactly the truth; I have an idea of what's holding us back. It isn't just one simple thing, it's a lot of things that have melded and merged into a forbidding wall between us. My need for control and independence, His guilt and feelings of un-worthiness. My logic, his intensity, both of us so afraid to risk what we have for what might be. When I try and comprehend what is between us I am almost overwhelmed. He's become such an integral part of my own existence, that part of me that I refuse to live without. Even the mere thought of life without Mulder triggers my own panic face.

It's not like I'm unsure of Mulder's feelings for me, on the contrary his feelings for me are one of the few constants left in my universe. I'd have to be blind as well as stupid not to have figured it out by now. But if it's a simple case of not wanting to jeopardize our friendship, then I should be able to accept that and work around our mutual longings. Our relationship might not be what we hoped it would be but I should be able to accept that what we have is enough. Yet I realize in my heart that it's not enough anymore. Soon I won't be able to believe my own lies.

So where does all this musing get me? I can overanalyze this thing to death and still not motivate myself to action. But after this I don't know how I can continue to keep my secret. I laugh at the absurdity and realize that for once I no longer want to. Maybe it's time we asked ourselves why, why are we keeping secrets.

XXXXXXXX

After the Alexandria P.D. poked around the basement and asked their million questions and Scully typically refused a fun filled trip to the ER I simply drove her there anyway. Damn I thought I was a bad patient. After a lovely little ordeal the ER doc admitted defeat and sent her home when he couldn't find anything wrong with her. We drove to her apartment in silence; I guess both of us were too lost in our own thoughts. I knew one thing for sure; she didn't want to spend another minute in my apartment. I don't blame her; I don't want to either. I pulled up to her building and uncharacteristically opened her door and walked her to her apartment. If she noticed the change in my behavior she didn't say anything. Of course not, we never say anything, we wouldn't be who we are if we did.

When we finally got to her door there were a few moments of uncomfortable silence, now that is something unusual for us. We're often silent but very rarely are we ever uncomfortable about it. I guess neither one of us wanted to speak about what had almost happened. Knowing Scully like I do, I know damn well she was embarrassed by crying in my arms clawing at me in an effort to get as close as possible to another beating heart. I wish there were some way for me to get her to be a little more open with her emotions. But then again I can't blame her, I'm not exactly the most open person in the world either.

For a second or two I almost thought she was going to ask me to stay with her. I know, sometimes my egotism knows no bounds. Instead she turned and looked at me, absolute exhaustion clouding her eyes, and simply said 'thanks for driving me home Mulder, I'll see you later.' I did nothing more than nod my head in agreement. I didn't offer to come in, or ask if she'd be ok. I know what her answer would've been, no need to play that broken record for the millionth time.

I didn't think about what the hell I was going to do until I drove away, and then I seriously started to consider it. What the hell was I going to do now? I damn sure didn't want to go back to my place, that's all I needed to do was spend the evening looking at the spot on the floor where I found her. But this left me at a complete loss, I mentally went down the list, office, go for a run, basketball, swim, workout, Lone Gunmen, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda, yadda. Everything screamed cliche'.

Instead I found a deserted park and did one of the things I do very well, I sat there and brooded. There are times when I will be doing exactly that and invariably my phone will ring and I'll know instinctively that it's Scully. Of course it is who else ever calls me? Scully can be pretty spooky sometimes She'll ask me what I'm doing and I'll tell her nothin,' just sittin' and thinkin'. I should know better, nothing peaks the Scully radar like that phrase, but then again, it's never a good idea to leave me to my own devices too long and she knows it.

I've been sitting here staring off into space for over an hour now, maybe I'm expecting some divine revelation to fall out of the sky and hit me in the face. What I'm thinking the most about is Padgett's last words when we released him.

/Agent Scully is already in love

I knew exactly what he was talking about, all three of us knew. Scully and I may pretend to be blind but we are not stupid. How many more things have to happen before we decide to face what's between us? How blatant does it have to get? Even as I ask myself the questions I know the answers already. Scully's waiting, she's waiting for me to say something. Really say something not some half-concussed declaration. But she's waiting for me to be a man and tell her the truth. If I had done that I'd be with her now, I'd have shown my concern and I'd treat her right. If I were half a man she wouldn't be by herself, she'd be happy. If I were half a man I wouldn't sleep alone.

The shrill chirping of my phone suddenly derailed the cold train of my thoughts.

"Mulder."

"Hey Mulder it's me."

"You ok Scully?"

"Yeah I guess so, I just..."

Her hesitation made my heart start pounding once again.

"What is it Scully? Talk to me."

"I'm ok Mulder really. I just don't feel like being alone. Do you think you could come over, maybe we could have some coffee or something?"

Relief washed over me and I let out a shaky breath.

"I'd love to, I'll be there in 10 minutes."

I hit the end button and shoved the thing back in my pocket. Getting up and waking to my car I noticed how much lighter I now felt. Scully and I still have a long way to go but I think now I'm ready to at least be honest with her. I'm ready to see where our honesty takes us, if nothing else we'll both be on the same page. We won't have to wonder where we stand anymore and we won't have to struggle to read each other's minds. It's not much but after so many years it's a start.

END

"If those are my last words I can do better." - Mulder X-Files