This has been bouncing around in my head for a while now and I just had to get it written. So this is it. Set sometime in the middle of the series, after Scully's fashion sense gets better. Maybe season four or five, but it doesn't really matter.
Disclaimer: I don't own Mulder or Scully or their office, but I do borrow them occasionally for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others.
It's morning and I'm sitting at my desk, thumbing through an old x-file as there are no new cases and I really don't feel like doing paperwork. So I'm just waiting for my partner to arrive, though she is never late. In fact she's about ten minutes late already, but I am adamant that she is fine and I shouldn't worry about ten short minutes. There's probably some bad traffic. The elevator dings from the end of the hall. That's probably Scully. But there are no clickity-clacks of high heels on the tile floor. Not Scully, maybe Skinner.
Then the door opens and in walks my partner, who looks a bit off this morning. She is wearing one of her usual pantsuits, but no heels. I cock my head to the side just a little. I'm very confused. She looks at me and raises her trademark eyebrow. Then she disregards my confusion and walks over to her seat in front of my desk. No she limps over to her seat.
"Scully, what's wrong?" She looks up at me, nearly as confused as I am.
"Nothing." she replies, still unsure why I'm asking.
"You're limping. Are you alright?" Then it hits her. She understands and smiles at me.
"I tripped and fell last night outside my building. I'm fine. Just sprained my ankle, I've been spraining the same one since I was a kid. I just wrapped it up. It'll be fine. Just no heels and a little limp for a week or so." She settles into her chair and starts on the paperwork we are supposed to be filing. I decide that she probably is just fine and she could at least use a little help with the paperwork I don't want to do. So I settle into my own chair and start on the rest of it.
Two hours in and the phone rings. I pick it up and answer with my usual "Mulder." It's Skinner, big surprise. "We'll be right up, sir." Scully looks over at me and raises an eyebrow. "Skinner would like to see us." She nods and stands up, wincing slightly. She tries to cover but I've already seen. I won't show her though, I'll let her think I believe that she isn't bothered by her ankle at all. We walk out of the office and down the hall to the elevator. I look to my right and don't see her bobbing next to me, but just as I begin to worry that she has fallen or stopped somewhere along the way I notice that she is there, but without heels my partner barely reaches my shoulder. I ponder this for a moment and chuckle a little at the situation. Scully looks up at me confused.
"What?"
"It's just, I never realized it until now, but you're short. When you wear heels I don't notice it and I never think of you as short, but you are." This new revelation of mine comes at a cost. Scully punches me in the arm, hard. Then she glares at me with an expression that can only be read as amused annoyance. "Great things come in small packages." I say, holding my hands up in mock surrender.
"Better" she mutters as we reach the elevator. The doors close and we dissolve into silence, but not an awkward or uncomfortable one, just waiting to see what our boss has in store. The doors open on his floor and we step out. Unconsciously returning to my normal pace, I feel an emptiness at my side where my partner should be. Realizing my error I slow my pace quickly and mentally kick myself for being inconsiderate. She comes up to my side and pats my arm as if to forgive my forgetfulness. We continue on and meet up with Agent Fuller in front of the door to Skinner's office.
"You guys get called up, too?" We nod, wondering why we are even there, but Fuller seems to be aware. "Big drug bust. They're taking as many capable field agents not on active cases and borrowing them. They really just need manpower. So we get to stand around in vests and hold guns. Basically do nothing for a few hours and still get out of the office." he said, answering our unasked question with a smile. Fuller opens the door, and is followed by his partner, who leaves the door for me to hold. I keep it open with one hand and usher Scully in with my other hand on her back. Kimberley waves us into AD Skinner's office with the other agents. There are at least fifteen agents sitting and standing around the room. I can only see one open seat so I rush to grab it for Scully. She shouldn't have to stand.
Scully sits in the chair and flashes a me a grateful smile. I half lean, half sit on the arm of her chair and it seems that the four of us who met in the hall are the last to arrive as Skinner and two other agents, who I don't recognize, begin their presentation. After a good thirty minutes I am convinced that Fuller is right and it will be a simple bust. I look down at my partner, who seems at ease with the whole idea, though I am still disinclined to agree to it. I don't think Scully should really be put in a position where she might have to run after a drug dealer with a gun if she can't even keep up with me in the hall. But she would just yell at me for being overprotective and babying her. Which would probably be true. I guess I'll let her decide.
I turn to Scully at then end of their spiel "It's your choice. If you think you're up to it then we'll do it, but I won't think any less of you if you don't feel up to it." I guess I chose right because I am graced with a true Scully smile. The really good one that hardly anyone, rarely even her mother, gets. In fact, I'm pretty sure if we weren't sitting in Skinner's office with a bunch of other agents I would be getting one of those wonderful Scully smiles that is reserved for me. She shakes her head no, just slightly.
"It's fine. We're just there to look imposing anyway. And I can shoot people if need be, I'm a better shot than you are and I don't need my ankle for that." I nod and it's agreed. We receive our orders from the SAC and head out to the garage where we are geared up and put into the van with some of the other agents. We all look kind of the same, the curly wire coming out of our ears from the earpiece, the bulky bulletproof vests adorning each chest, the slight bulge in the front where the mic is located. Yup, we're all knights in shining FBI standard issue body armor for the American people, sort of. Not really Scully and me, but I guess so. We're trying to save them, they just don't know about it yet. I look to my right. I know that Scully is on my left, the first to get in on our side, mostly so I can make sure she gets out all right. I wonder who is on my other side.
"Fancy meeting you here." I comment when I see that it is none other than Agent Fuller.
"Oh, hello Agent Mulder." he replies, turning to see me sitting next to him. He leans forward to see around me. "Agent Scully." He knew she was there. I suppose all the talk around the Bureau that I try to ignore has some credence. We really are hardly ever without each other in the field. Two halves of a perfect team. She nods and gives a half wave in response. I look over at her, she is leaning her head back against the side of the van, she looks uncomfortable. I had forgotten. She never liked riding in the back of these things, she likes seeing where she is going.
"You alright?" She nods vaguely. Glancing around to make sure no one is paying us much attention I tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She smiles a thank you in my direction and the van stops. We all sit a little straighter and wait for the doors to be opened. Everyone clamors out and I wait for my partner, even offering a hand which she characteristically ignores, smiling at me anyway, as if to 'thanks but I will not look weak in front of our peers'. I guess I understand but sometimes I wish she would just let me do something for her.
The team huddles up and are given positions. Scully and I are taking a rather forward position. We will be hidden behind some large wooden packing crates on the left side of the building. There is a nearly identical stack on the right that will be unprotected, and the rest of the agents will take cover at other, similar stacks closer to the back. They really don't expect to need us much. They really don't expect to need anybody much. From what I can see there is only one position closer to the suspects than we are. Agent Fuller and his partner will be behind a larger stack of crates on the right side and a dozen or so meters forward.
The order is given and all teams creep into place. We sound off as we reach our destinations. After a tense few moments of waiting I can hear orders being given to the dealer and his men inside, to come out with their hands up and no one will get hurt. They come out alright, but with guns instead of cooperation. Figures. They start making demands and sounding foolish, but I'm not listening. I'm listening to the earpiece in my ear, awaiting my own instructions. Then I hear our number.
"Tac Team 3? This is control. Come in Tac Team 3."
"Control, this is Tac Team 3. Over." I whisper into the mic.
"You got two guys with Mac 10s coming up on your left side. ETA one minute. Move. Opposite position is free. Over."
"Roger that." I reply in a hushed tone once more. I look to Scully for confirmation. One glance for us could count as a whole conversation for most people. I peer over my shoulder slightly, noticing that our 'friends' are closing in. I hold up three fingers, signaling to my partner. I lower the third, then the second and then point with the first and we go. In a rushed, and hunched over tip toe I manage to cross the main area of the warehouse where most of the negotiating is taking place. As soon as I feel safe enough to turn and look I hear the light thud of my partner hitting the floor. I know it's her ankle. I should never have agreed to this. Her being angry is better than her being in danger. I whip around quickly to see exactly what I had been expecting: Scully lying on the floor, unable to tiptoe in the same manner I had. Knowing that she shouldn't try to get up now, as she has already drawn attention to her position, she is lying flat on her back, being as small a target as possible, and trying to keep the pained expression off her face. Damn that sprained ankle.
"Scully." I whisper into the mic, breaking radio silence for the slightest moment. She turns her head to look at me and she is pleading me to get her out of there. She hates not knowing what's happening and she is in a rather compromising position at the moment. I nod and look around. All negotiation seems to have stopped and we are in the middle of a standoff. A shot rings out, though I am not able to tell which side fired first. I run. I flat out run. It's a good thing I have long legs and run as often as I do. I'm with Scully in a second. I have covered her body with mine and am able to at least see what the drug dealers are doing.
My body covers all of hers and sticks out some, making me realize that the spitfire redhead who packs such a wallop is still small and, at this moment, needs me to keep her safe. I use my elbows and knees to keep myself from squishing her. Other than that we are flush against one another, trying to remain as small as possible. My legs lay way past hers and my head rests somewhere close to where hers does. My forearms are wrapped around the top of her head and my left hand fiddles with her hair, just to let her know I'm with her. I can feel her arms trapped between us as she grips the front of my white t-shirt in her fists and holds on for dear life as the shoot out above us intensifies.
I don't know how long we stayed like that. All I do know is that our guys shot three of the suspects. One fatally, the others would depend on how quickly they were treated. But the rest of the perps seem to have no problem picking up where their fallen comrades leave off. A bullet misses. I see when the bullet leaves the barrel of the main man's gun, but it goes off course. Not to the other agents behind us, but down. It lands somewhere a few feet to my left, Scully's right. The next one that 'misses' the others is not quite so lucky for us. At least it didn't hit my partner, but I can feel that it's been embedded in my vest, at a very weird angle.
"You ok?" Scully asks from underneath me. I look away from the drug dealers and down at my partner, my Scully. I nod slightly. I can see the concern in her face. Sure the bullet hurt, but it won't be more than a bruise in the morning. She nods and grips my shirt tighter. We are lying on a dirty concrete floor in the middle of a firefight. I can't believe I didn't just say no. For the first time in a long time we both know that we're both scared. Not the kind of scared that you feel when you uncover a new layer of conspiracy. The kind that you feel when you have no place to hide and you could be killed at any moment. I look up just in time to see one more perp taken down. Not fatal. Then another bullet comes our way and I bend my head down to cover Scully better.
I know she can hear my hiss of pain as the hot piece of oblong metal slices through the side of my arm. I think she's rubbing off on me, because now I'm doing my own analysis of my injury. It's just a graze to my left bicep. A few stitches and I'll be good as new, but I know my partner is worried. "Just a graze." I tell her. My training prepared me for this, but I think all the years of chasing aliens and mutants and losing my gun has gotten me out of the habit of gun fights. I can feel Scully nod into my chest. Continuing to move my arm hurts and I know it's bleeding, but I bring it in just a little closer, feeing the smooth concrete floor pick at the skin on my elbow and deposit grease and grime as I shift. My fingers play with the hair on top of Scully's head. She sighs, knowing that I'm here and I'm ok. We both are.
I kiss her forehead and then lay mine against it. I listen carefully to the sounds of shooting above our heads. No more bullets fly our way and the shots begin to decrease as the suspects run short on ammunition. Then they cease and I look up, seeing Fuller and his partner rush forward, empty clips sent scattering about their feet. Those who are still standing are taken into custody and those who are not are tended to by the EMTs. Once I'm sure we're safe, I stand up quickly and reach down with my good arm to pull my partner gingerly to her feet. She wobbles for a second but finds her balance against me. With my partner leaning on my right side for support while she limps back to the ambulance and my left arm still bleeding, it doesn't seem like it's been a good day.
Finally arriving at the ambulance I sit down and Scully sits on my left, reaching back to grab some gauze to press onto my wound. A few paramedics walk up with a gurney, on which an agent lays. She has a gunshot to her lower thigh and one in the vest. The bleeding has been stopped and she just needs to go have it removed.
"Either of you hit?" the older EMT in the front asks us. We are conveniently sitting in the way so I stand and take her with me as I describe the nature of our injuries.
"She has a sprained ankle that I think might have been aggravated by her fall. I'll probably need a couple stitches, but nothing major." I reply. The man looks at me like I'm crazy when I make her injury seem more urgent. But I can deal with bleeding, he doesn't know us.
"You can ride with us, neither of you are in fit shape to drive." I can feel my partner's hands tremble against my arm and I realize how long it's been since we've been in an actual shoot out. Monsters, aliens, and government conspiracies are not problem, but anything normal FBI agents deal with is a bit unnerving for us. We move out of the way and the agent is loaded into the back, two paramedics stay with her and we climb in, sitting opposite them. Scully is keeping pressure on my arm though I'm sure it is more to keep her hands from openly shaking than to keep my arm from bleeding. It's mostly stopped and I could probably hold it myself now.
We rode in silence for a while until I felt compelled to ask the agent lying before us her name. "Claire Henderson. Violent Crimes. You're Sp… Mulder and Scully, right?" she asked, correcting herself before the embarrassment became complete. I nod for both of us, knowing exactly what she had almost said. I smile as warmly as I can under the circumstances to assure her that no offense is taken.
"So who got you?" I ask, conversationally, knowing that talking, about anything really, will keep her mind off the projectile embedded in her thigh. It has always helped me. She smiles her thanks and responds.
"Big fat guy on the right. I took him down as soon as he got me." I nod. I remember him.
"Yeah, I watched him fall. Nice shot, by the way." She smiles, and I know she has habituated her body to the pain. The adrenalin doesn't suck either. "Skinny blond guy in the middle got me, twice." I reply, but she looks confused, trying to recreate the scene in her head. "Once in the vest." I supply. Then it clicks.
"You two were on the floor. In the middle. Must have been terrifying. I tried to tell Newman that he should set you guys up across from Fuller, but he didn't want to listen. He said that we needed someone covering the mid section and offering cross fire from many angles. Fat lot of good that did." she scoffs exasperatedly, as she waves her arms about to the annoyance of the paramedics. There is suddenly a warm pressure on my shoulder. I turn to see the red hair of my partner falling over my white t-shirt. I want to be overly concerned but I know that she is still conscious as the pressure on my flesh wound has not let up and I can still feel her hands trembling.
"Scully." I whisper into her ear. She mumbles something in return. "Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you?" She shakes her head no. I set my chin on top of her head and breathe in the familiar smell of her perfume and shampoo. I kiss her head and feel her relax slightly in the seat next to me. "Are you sure you're ok?" She shakes her head no, again. I understand. I'm not okay either. Luckily we pull up to the hospital at that moment and the EMTs pull Agent Henderson from the ambulance, leaving me and Scully to fend for ourselves. Somehow we manage to get out. I'm not sure if it was feats of acrobatics or our trust in each other that helped. Scully refused to let go of my arm, worried that it would start bleeding again and I refused to let her get down by herself because I knew her ankle couldn't handle it. But we didn't argue about this in the conventional sense, we argued silently because, let's face it, we don't do anything conventionally.
So with her hands pressed to my left bicep and my hands gripping her waist, we backed down to the edge of the ambulance and I stepped off first, then helped her down and we slowly and cautiously made our way into the emergency room. I check us in with the receptionist and explain that we are with the FBI. I know that all the injuries from the shoot out will be brought here and that the woman with reddish, almost violet, hair and constantly popping gum understands this, even if she looks like an bimbo at the moment. We sit down on the cushy and colorful waiting room couches and Scully continues to fuss over my arm.
"It's gonna be fine. Relax. I'm more worried about you right now. You're ankle is worse. Put it up here, let me see." I tell her, patting my left leg. She spins a little in her seat so she can lift her right leg onto my lap. Pulling back my partner's pant leg I can see that her ankle is swelling around the wrap, and it's swelling a lot. The 'as big as a watermelon' or 'as big as my face' stories that I've heard are here sitting in my lap. So I set about unwrapping it, the wrap must be cutting off her circulation. When I do I can see that her ankle is badly bruised. It's black and blue and even a little magenta for good measure. We both know it doesn't look good.
Scully smiles a small, grateful smile and I know that it has at least made her foot feel better, if only by returning blood flow. I realize that she hasn't spoken a word since the fire fight ended, and that worries me a little, but my Scully is never out of sorts for too long and in her current state I don't want to push her. When she can see that I'm alright she might be more receptive, and when I can see that she is alright I might be more willing to risk her anger. She hates it when I'm overprotective.
We wait for a while. I am sure most of the resources are being pooled to save the lives of all the people that were shot today. A man who needs a few stitches and a woman who sprained her ankle are of little concern at the moment. As we are waiting I notice that the phone rings for the first time in what must be an hour or so. The receptionist I spoke with earlier answers with the usual "How may I help you?" a man is speaking on the other end. The volume on the phone is turned up quite loudly, but I still can't quite make out what he is saying. "We can't do that, sir." Now I can actually hear him more clearly and I think I know who it is.
"Either you make sure they're in the same room or transfer me to someone who can!" Yup, that's Skinner.
"Sir, you need to understand. They have completely different types of injuries. They would normally not even be placed in the same wing of the ER. We are very busy tonight, sir. Please." Busy. Pfft. The only thing keeping people busy tonight is an FBI drug bust gone bad.
"I don't think you understand. I am the Assistant Director to the FBI and those are my agents. You put them in the same room and they'll be the perfect patients. You keep them apart and they'll be the worst patients you've ever had. I'm very busy tonight. I have to fill out paperwork as to why four suspects and three agents were shot, as well as figure out how and why another agent fell while trying to find better cover. So please. Just put them in the same room so I don't have to hear about one of my agents threatening a nurse or something. That's the last thing either of us needs." I chuckle at Skinner's words. He knows us too well. We are always placed in the same hospital room, if not whoever is more able goes off in search of the other. It's wouldn't be the first time I've used my badge or threatened my way to see Scully. It won't be the last.
"Alright. I'll do my best." The receptionist looks annoyed, but I've been in this ER before. I know they could put us in the same room, it would just be inconvenient. Oh well, it's better than me walking around yelling at the doctors. The woman hangs up the phone in a huff and begins resorting the rooms. I look over at Scully to see if she heard the same thing I did. She gives me a weak smile and I know it does amuse her but her eyes don't light up. I hate these cases, the ones that have little chance of a cooperative end, and absolutely no chance of a happy one. I absentmindedly rub her leg and the upper part of her ankle as we wait. Only a few moments later we are both called. I help her to her feet and support her as she holds the gauze to my slightly seeping wound. We are led into a large room with two beds and the nurse tells us that a doctor will be in in a moment.
Scully and I sit on one of the beds as she refuses to let go of me. I think I know what's bothering her. It's not just the bullet that grazed my arm, but the bullet in my vest. I can't believe this is the first time I've noticed this. Before I can contemplate further the doctor walks into the room. I think he's treated at least one of us on a previous visit.
"Agent Mulder, Agent Scully." he greets, nodding at us, seeing that our arms are fairly occupied. "Always good to see you both, though I must say the circumstances aren't exactly ideal. So you're gonna need a few stitches today Agent Mulder, and I have an x-ray set up for you in about an hour Agent Scully. May I take a look?" he asks, motioning to my arm after he sets down our charts. I remember this doctor well. He takes care of us almost all the time when we end up here. He knows that we are very protective of each other, almost irrationally so, and he respects that. I can see it in the way he asks Scully if he can look at my arm, as she is currently claiming it. She nods and releases the gauze to his capable hands.
He slowly removes the white square of material and I see that the injury is worse than I thought. I can see why Scully has been fussing over it. It's maybe four or five inches in length, but thankfully it's not very deep. "Agent Scully, would you mind moving to your partner's other side so I can stitch him up?" She nods and moves quickly to my right side, gripping my hand. Once the doctor has finished with my arm it is time for Scully's x-ray. A nice nurse brings my partner a wheelchair and allows me to help her into it and walk alongside her. She is gripping my hand again. We both hate hospitals. We've spent far too much time in them.
The nurse and I help Scully to lay on the cold metal table and I hold her hand as they slide the film under her bruised ankle and lay the lead blanket over the rest of her body. I know that verbal reassurance will only be met by withering glares that I know are her way of telling me that she knows what's going to happen. So instead I settle for a comforting hand squeeze and a simple phrase as I point. "I'll be right there." She nods and turns her head to the side, watching the wall we walk to. The x-rays are taken and we go back to get Scully from the table. I'm worried because she still hasn't spoken to anyone and I'm afraid that this particular bust is bothering her. It's almost like she was after Donnie Pfaster, though this time she doesn't even pretend to be fine. It's useless, she knows that I already know she's hurt.
We are back and sitting in our room now. I've finally decided to attempt to get my partner to talk. "Scully?" I ask. She only looks up at me in response. "Talk to me. You haven't spoken since we left the warehouse. Please talk to me, I'm worried." I tell her, picking up her hand. She nods.
"Sorry. Later, ok?" she finally croaks. I nod and lay my head against hers. We are in this thing together. Life, partnership, everything I think. From sprained ankles to gunshot wounds, flukemen to government conspiracies, buying lunch to movie nights. The doctor comes back in with the x-rays and sticks them on the light screen.
"It's not broken. Just badly sprained. I'm going to give you a brace and I want you to wear it for at least a week, and after that you can take it off when it feels better. I know you're a doctor so I'll leave that up to you. But just to give your ankle some rest for tomorrow I want you on crutches for 24 hours. And Mr. Mulder I would like you to be careful with your arm. You've had stitches before, I'm sure you know what to do and what not to do. I expect you to actually follow the rules. I don't want to see you back here because you ripped your stitches out. Ok?" We both nod, and I have a slight smile playing about my lips. He's seen us far too many times if he knows that we usually don't follow doctor's orders.
"Thank you doctor." I tell him, shaking his hand heartily. He informs us that a nurse will come in with Scully's brace and crutches. When she does come we see that she is a kind looking, smaller woman with brown hair and a nice smile. She is holding a black fabric boot-looking-thing. The woman explains the thing quickly to Scully and we see that it is simply more supportive than the wrap she had it in earlier. The crutches are adjusted to my partner's small stature and she seems quite adept on them. We thank the ER staff and make our way to the lobby of the hospital. I use the payphone to call Skinner so he knows we're okay. "Hey Scully?" She glances up at me, wondering what I want now. "We still have our vests on. I'll scratch your back, you scratch mine?" Finally, I get an amused smile out of my partner. She nods quickly and balances on her crutches so she can remove the body armor. Leaving her in the same position, I start, though more slowly, to remove her vest. Once both are removed, we walk slowly to the curb, holding each other's vests.
I hail a cab and we carefully climb in the back seat. "Georgetown." I tell the cabbie, giving Scully's address. She looks at me funny, trying to figure out why we aren't going back to the office for our stuff. "Skinner said he would bring our things by in a little while when I called. Don't worry about it." It doesn't take long to reach Scully's building, so I pay our fare and we slowly make our way up to her apartment. I force her to sit on the couch while I get a couple of beers for us. It's a rare occurrence that we sit on one of our sofas having a beer without a movie. Things have been good lately I suppose. No need to talk about the terrible things life has done to us, though we both know it has. "Talk to me." I say once my partner has settled herself.
"Two inches." I furrow my brow in confusion. She grabs my vest from the floor near her feet and holds it up for me to see. "Two inches lower and…" Tears take hold of her and in milliseconds she is in my arms. I know exactly what she is trying to say. 'Two more inches and no more partner.' She doesn't have to say it aloud. The chance of dying confronts us almost everyday, but not like this. We hardly ever have our lives threatened by someone who is not out to get us because of the x-files.
"I'm not gonna leave you. I promise." I can feel Scully nod against my chest and her sobs lessen as I rub her back and soothe her to the best of my ability. We rock back and forth while I calm her down and, consequently, calm myself. Once we are both composed I pull her away from me enough to look into her face. The tears on my own cheeks as fresh as the ones she has shed and I just can't bear to see her this way. When it comes to this woman I just want to make everything better. My hands slide up from her shoulders and hold her face, wiping the tears with my thumbs. I have to tell her. It's now or never and something like this reminds me that tomorrow may not always come. "Scully?"
"Yeah, Mulder?" my partner replies, voice still thick and hoarse from crying.
"I… um… there's something I needs to tell you." She nods in response. "I… I love you." It's as simple as that, but yet so complicated. She can tell this is different from any other time I've tried to tell her this, but I know she already knows. I'm just not sure she knows how I love her. "I'm in love with you. I just wanted you to know." Her silence is scaring me a little, but I wait while the emotions play out behind her eyes. To the casual observer she is just lost in thought, but I can see the varying flickers of disbelief, excitement, fear and love. Finally she looks up at me with a smile and fresh tears in her eyes, though this time I can see they are happy tears.
"I love you, too. I think I always have. I was so scared when I fell. I knew I couldn't get up and I was stuck on my back and I couldn't see anything and then you were there. And I felt like it would be okay, but I was just so scared I would lose you." I can tell she is about to start crying again.
"But I'm here." She nods and the smile slowly returns to her face when she looks up at me and sees the love that I am sure is in my eyes. I am sure they are shouting "Do I get to kiss you now?" And I really don't think I've ever seen this particular look on my partner's face. She's obviously amused, but excited and maybe a little anxious. She looks at me expectantly and I lean in, just slightly as she is still more or less in my arms. It is a tender, loving chaste kiss. The first of what I hope to be many, many kisses. Before Scully I didn't think such a simple kiss could mean so much, but like I've said before, we don't do anything conventionally.
So that's it. I know it's long. Leave me a review and let me know what you think. =]