Murky (1/1)
by ShinySherlock
Rated PG. Classification VRA.
Sumary: This was originally a response to MaryKate's Quagmire challenge: What would have happened if Dr. Faraday hadn't interrupted the conversation on the rock? (Here Be Spoilers.)
The noise startled them out of conversation and they both jumped to their feet again, guns at the ready. This is where Dr. Faraday came in, but we'll just pretend he didn't.
It was nothing. A Duck. A Fish. Again.
Scully sank back down onto the rock.
"Mulder, one of these days you're going to kill me with this quest of yours," Scully complained. No flippant comeback followed and she looked up to meet his pained expression.
"Is that what you think?" he asked, hurt.
Shit, thought Scully. "No! I mean, I'm just frustrated right now."
He turned away from her and walked to the opposite end of their island.
She waited.
He just stood there.
"Mulder. I didn't mean it literally," she said softly.
He was silent.
Finally, after minutes, he started. "So, I'm Ahab."
Great, she thought, you just had to say it, even knowing he already has a complex about protecting you.
"I'm... dragging you along."
He still did not face her.
"This is *my* insane quest for *my* truth, and if I endanger you in the process, so be it."
He was waiting for her to refute his statements, but when she didn't answer, he continued.
"Because, you know, you mean absolutely nothing to me." He kicked at the stone beneath him and the pebbles plopped into the murky waters below. "And it's not like I didn't warn you - on that first case - that this is the only thing that matters to me."
He slyly looked over his shoulder at her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
He was at her side in a blink, crouching next to her where she sat cross legged on the rock. His hands gripped her arms.
"Scully?"
"If you're trying to be funny, it's not working," she said, sniffling and wiping her cheeks with her hand. He lowered his hands from her.
"What?" he asked, confused. Had she taken him *seriously*?
She rolled her eyes at him and started to rail. "Damnit, Mulder! It's just a book! You're not *really* him, I was just using it because it fit a particular moment. And you're not *dragging* me along, I just feel that way sometimes, like you're not listening to me, like you don't give a shit what I think. And damnit, you *need* me. If I left you, you'd need help tying your *shoes*, you'd be so lost!" she concluded. She had stopped crying, but the moonlight reflected in the streaks on her face.
His eyes locked with hers, and the silence fell around them once more.
"You're right," he whispered.
"I know," she answered.
He leaned towards her until his forehead rested against hers.
"I'm sorry," he added, his breath warm against her face.
"Good."
He found himself drawn to her. He needed her to know that he appreciated her. That she understood why he went crazy sometimes.
He slid towards her, his arms snaking around her waist and his face against her cheek.
"It's okay," she said, reading his mind yet again, "I wouldn't still be with you if I didn't believe in you."
She always knew the perfect thing to say. He kissed her temple softly and held her tighter.
"Thank you," he whispered.
*the end.*