1 Better This Way
October 23, 1998
12:38 a.m.
The late night air rushed through Dana Scully's open window, mixing the sounds of honking cars and the slow melodies of the radio playing in her living room. Scully shivered and walked to the window. Looking out through the screen, she saw the half moon reflecting off the asphalt, which glistened with the dampness of a previous rain.
Scully lay back down on her soft, light brown couch, half asleep, half awake, thinking about nothing in particular. She had been laying like that for the past two hours. Laying, staring into space, and analyzing her purpose in the general scheme of things.
She had nothing to do. She and Mulder had finished their latest case that afternoon, turned in their report to Assistant Director Skinner, and together had decided to take the rest of the day off. It was such a rare occasion to have some time to do what she wanted, and Scully felt as if she should be celebrating... but with who? Her lack of anything close to a social life left her with no one to talk to except her family, and her paranoid, psychoanalytical partner who, she figured, was at this very moment out at his version of a wild party with his even more paranoid buddies, going over yet another far-fetched conspiracy theory.
Scully sighed. There had to be something to do around here! It was Washington DC, for God's sake! She forced herself to get up, and walked into her kitchen.
* * * * *
At that very same moment, despite Scully's contrary beliefs, Mulder was fighting off the same thing his partner; boredom. He had spent the last half an hour flipping aimlessly through cliché sci-fi dramas on T.V., which were the only halfway decent shows that aired at this hour in his opinion. After reaching the last station again, for the eighth time in the past ten minutes, he flipped the television off and stared at the still glowing screen. As the faint glow died down, he sighed, realizing how pathetic he really was.
When he wasn't busy chasing aliens, fighting off mutants, avoiding deadly viruses, uncovering the dirty truth behind an ever growing governmental conspiracy, or filling out reports explaining why he had been doing those things in the first place, he really had nothing to do. He was at a loss when he wasn't being shot at, beaten up, or chased. He sat staring at the now dark television screen for another few minutes. He finally got up and began rummaging through a huge pile of scattered papers, pizza boxes, books, and discarded photos that had been shoved into the corner of his tiny apartment.
He grunted as he shoved a pile of manila folders aside, and silently cursed himself for being such a slob. After several more minutes of digging, he found what he was looking for... his old radio. He hadn't listened to it for at least six months, and had never bothered to buy a new one. He set it down on his desk, stared at his messy living room and began the long search for an electrical outlet.
* * * * *
Scully sat at her kitchen table, her elbows resting on the cold wood, fingers threaded through tousled auburn hair. She was staring blankly at the stunning yellow pages of the phone book in front of her.
She had already flipped through the phone book about three times, and had found nothing to do that sounded like much fun. She slammed the phone book shut, annoyed that simple boredom was ruining a perfectly good night.
She knew that she would really rather be spending the evening with Mulder. Sure- she spent almost every day with him, but she liked him. Mulder was great to spend time with. God- that was the understatement of the year. She laughed dryly.
Mulder. Now there was a topic she could talk about forever. No one had any idea how much she cared about him... how every time he smiled, laughed, or gently touched her on the back or arm as he led her through the door... he held her heart in his strong hands, without really knowing it. His simple gestures created an ache in her chest like nothing else could. It was an ache that had been a part of her life since the first time she met him in that poorly lit broom closet that they fondly called an office. She felt so strongly about him, but it was a feeling that no one but she could understand. And she wasn't even sure if she understood.
She wished she could tell him how she truly felt- she wished that she didn't have to tell him the half truths and limit their personal moments to those of friendly affection. Even those were so rarely shared between them. She wished she could tell him how much she really cared for, and loved him.
Yes... she loved him. She had admitted it to herself awhile ago, but she could never admit it toanyone else. Not only did it go against God knows how many of the Bureau's rules, but it went against Scully's own promise to herself- the promise that she would never need anyone else to get her through. .And if she ever admitted that she loved Mulder, she would be admitting that she needed him.
Resignedly, she laid back down on the couch, after turning up the volume on her radio. She sighed again, peacefully this time, as the soft music filled the room. For some reason she always got so wired when she was bored, but the music eased her frayed nerves and calmed her down a little. She was half asleep when the radio DJ cut in with a rather loud voice.
"Good evening, folks! It's one 'o' eight, and we're staying up late here on Easy 104.9. It's a special night, and we're taking your requests and dedications. Send a song out to that special someone. Tell them how much you love them... courtesy of Easy 104.9..."
The announcer quieted as another soft song began to play. Scully stared at the radio for a moment, contemplating an idea that had momentarily pushed into her thoughts. She gave herself a mental slap, bringing herself suddenly back to reality.
What was she thinking? She couldn't dedicate a song to Mulder! How could she even consider that? She could see it now... 'yes Mulder, I've loved you for a long time and just in case you hadn't realized it before, here's a song that tells you exactly how I feel'. Scully laughed softly to herself. It was almost ironic, but she already knew of a song that could work. "No!" She shouted to the empty room, startled by the loudness of her voice. "I can't make myself that obvious! Mulder could hear it. Christ- it could ruin our whole relationship!" She paced back and forth, disturbed by her dilemma.
She was even more disturbed by the nagging feeling in the back of her mind, trying to convince the emotional, not the rational part of her mind, to do the thinking for once. It was one in the morning. Mulder was probably still out with the Lone Gunmen (his only friends- at least that she knew of). Either that or he was asleep... and even if he wasn't, he never listened to the radio. Especially not the stations that she listened to. He had told her that himself- the mushy love songs weren't his style.
Her emotions got the better of her. "Oh, what the Hell. What are the chances that Mulder is listening to the radio at one in the morning?" She picked up the phone and dialed the radio station's phone number. She hung up quickly after requesting her song, pushing the nervous and uneasy feeling out of her mind.
Maybe she would feel better if she could express her feelings like this... without anyone really knowing. She leaned back on the arm of the couch, waiting for her song to be played.
* * * * *
A cold breeze blew through the slightly opened window of Mulder's apartment. He had spent almost half an hour searching his apartment for an outlet to plug in his radio. He had begun to consider the search a waste of time, until he found a single plug-in behind his desk. He pulled out the plug and the lamp sitting on his desk flickered out, leaving him in darkness.
"Damn." Without bothering to turn on another light, he fumbled around in the blackness and found his radio, which was still sitting on his cluttered desk. He plugged it in and searched blindly for the volume and tuning knobs. He turned the volume up a couple notches and began searching for a good station. He gave up and left it playing on the next station he found.
Exhausted, Mulder flopped down on his couch, long legs sprawled and hanging off the armrest on the opposite end. He relaxed and let the cold air lull him into a thoughtless trance. He absently listened to the excited advertisers, and waited for the music to start again. He smiled slightly when he heard the DJ begin speaking in a voice much more soothing than the advertisers.
"We're back... and you're listening to Easy 104.9. We're doing all requests and dedications tonight- call in and we'll see what we can do for you." Mulder chuckled. He hated this kind of music. He even remembered telling Scully as they were riding in her car one day. Love songs were too depressing. He had problems of his own. No need to worry about other people's, too.
She had been quiet after that. He hadn't thought about it much then, but now... with nothing else to think about, he began to contemplate why she would have been so quiet. It was just a simple difference of opinions on music.
He remembered the look that she had given him. It was the one look that he'd never been able to understand. He tried so hard to understand her. There were days when her eyes were clear-the purest shade of crystalline blue, and he could read her feelings like a good book. Then there were days when her eyes were desolate... her mind shadowed by some kind of fear or sadness that he couldn't make sense of. It was those looks that he hated. And it was when she gave him those looks that he wanted to reach out and hold her- rid her of those fears and erase from her memory all of the evils that she had seen- cure everything that had ever hurt her. But most of all, he wanted to see love in those eyes- those gorgeous, hauntingly beautiful eyes that stayed with him every day and every night... and he wanted her to be able to love him.
He shook his head. "Stop kidding yourself, Mulder. It'll never happen." He knew it deep in his heart. He was a shell of a man. He had sacrificed his soul in the endless search for the truth- and there was nothing left to love. He had decided long ago that telling Scully how he felt could only lead to worse things. It was better that he keep it to himself.
He sadly, directed his thoughts back to the radio. The announcer was still talking, and Mulder debated whether or not to get up and search for another station. He decided against it. The least he could do was try listening to one of Scully's radio stations, and he really didn't feel like getting up.
He focused again on the radio and listened to the DJ's voice.
"Well, folks, it's time to start another thirty minute song stretch of favorite easy listening hits that you choose yourself. This next song was called in by a nice lady who sounded awfully sad. It's one twelve and here's "Full of Grace" by our favorite singer... Sarah McLachlan."
* * * * *
Scully, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as relaxed. She was too nervous that someone would hear the song and the dedication, and somehow connect it to her.
It had all seemed like innocent fun when she had called the radio station, but now it seemed like way too big a risk for her to take. She stopped pacing back and forth, though, when the DJ announced her song.
"I'm being ridiculous. Even if someone did hear this song, what's to say that they would realize that it was from me?" She sank down onto the couch again and tried to relax. "Sure," she said to herself. "No one will figure it out. I didn't put my name in the dedication. There's no way that Mulder is listening anyway."
She calmed down significantly and listened to the song. She loved this song. Sarah McLachlan wasn't one of her favorite singers, but this song in particular reminded her so much of Mulder and her.
"...pulled down by the undertow...
never thought I could feel so low..."
Scully sighed and snuggled into the warm cushions of her couch.
* * * * *
"I know I can love you much better than this...
Full of grace... full of grace my love..."
Mulder found himself unexpectedly drawn in by the song... it reminded him of Scully. In fact, it reminded him a lot of himself, as well. He sat up on the couch and continued to listen intently.
"...it's better this way... I say...
Haven't seen this place before...
Everything we say and do... hurts us all the more..."
* * * * *
"God, it that true," Scully said to the empty room. Everything she and Mulder did seemed not to bring them hope or happiness, but only helped push them deeper into the pit they had fallen into more than five years ago.
* * * * *
"I feel just like I'm sinking...
and I claw for solid ground..."
"Now that's me." Mulder was getting into the song, now, trying to attach a meaning to every line. "I felt so lost before I met Scully, but she's saved me from being overtaken by my sadness and anger. She is my solid ground." He smiled to himself, and listened in silence to the last few seconds of the song...
"I know I can love you much better than this...
But it's better this way..."
Mulder sat motionless after the last line was played, letting the full meaning of the song sink in. For some reason, it made him feel an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He knew it wouldn't be better that way.
"Wait," he muttered to himself. "It's just a song. I'm acting crazy. Lovesick and crazy. Giving meaning to a song that's nothing more than that- a song- just because I want it to have a meaning."
He got up from the couch where he had begun the night, bored out of his mind. Now he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all. His mind was too busy sorting out all the junk that had just flown through his head. He paced slowly back and forth in his living room.
"A beautiful song... that was sent in by anonymous... and she gave us a message. I'll read it to you now...
'that was for you, Mulder.' "
Mulder froze and stared at the radio as if it could answer the question in his eyes. "Short but sweet," he DJ said. "Best way to go. And now, another song to relax you... it's one seventeen."
Mulder froze- his mind blank momentarily. He sank down onto the couch, running his hands nervously through his hair.
Could that song really have been meant for him? There had to be hundreds of Mulders in Washington DC... For lack of a better idea, he rummaged around on his desk and came up with the massive DC phone book. Moving to his desk, he flipped the switch on his lamp. It didn't turn on.
Swearing to himself, he moved to the window so he could read by the brightness of the streetlights outside. He flipped wildly through the pages, looking up his own name. He stared when he found it. Only five other than him. What were the chances that it was him that the song was dedicated to... not one of the five others who shared his last name?
He was beginning to convince himself that this was much more than a coincidence. If the song had been meant for him... he could think of only one person who could have done it. How many people went around dedicating songs using someone's last name? Scully.
He grabbed the phone and started to dial Scully's number, but stopped. If Scully had, in fact, dedicated that song to him, then she was, in effect, saying the words that he had wanted to hear from her for so long. But if it the song hadn't been meant for him, then he would be on the phone admitting his deepest secret to a woman probably didn't return the feeling. He had to be a little careful... keep a low profile. At least for now. He had an idea.
He could wait until tomorrow. Finally feeling a little tired, he lay down and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to overcome him.
* * * * *
Scully couldn't sleep. She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling above her. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.. a combination of nervousness and excitement. After running over the events of the past several hours in her mind, she decided against sleep. If she couldn't fall asleep now, she wasn't going to.
With a moan, she rolled herself out of bed. She jumped as her bare feet hit the ice cold floor, and she walked quickly to her dresser and pulled on a pair of socks. She shuffled slowly to the kitchen and set a kettle of water on the stove to boil.
As the water slowly started to bubble, she sat sleepily at her kitchen table, staring at a vase of flowers that looked as if they had gone several days too long without water. The kettle began to whistle impatiently and she quickly jumped to her feet, turning the burner off and pouring the hot water into a flowered mug. She ripped a teabag from its package and immersed it in the steaming water.
After a few moments, she walked carefully with her tea back to the living room and sank down on the couch. She breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of heated herbs, and let her mind flood with her thoughts until she finally fell asleep.
October 23, 1998
9:49 a.m.
Mulder was trying to act busy. He had awakened at five in the morning, refreshed from several hours of dreamless sleep. Scully was late, and he hoped to God that she hadn't decided to take the day off.
He really had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was just knowing that he was going to say something. He sat down at his desk and propped his feet up, trying to look preoccupied, which was how he guessed he usually looked. Just as he got settled in, the door of the office opened, and Scully quietly walked in.
Mulder grabbed a stray manila folder from his desk and busied himself with it. After a few moments, he risked a glance over the top of the file. Scully was busily setting up her laptop in front of him.
"Morning, Scully." He smiled at her over the file.
"Morning, Mulder." He watched her as she busily began typing. Her eyes were tired and dark. She looked exhausted. 'Maybe she was up late.' Mulder smiled to himself.
"So... did you enjoy your time off last night?" Mulder asked her, easing his way into a conversation.
"Yeah. It was O.K. I hit the sack early." She glanced at him fleetingly, then returned her gaze to the glowing computer screen.
"Got some rest, huh?"
"Yep."
"Certainly looks like it." He smiled, pointing to her eyes.
"I had a little trouble falling asleep." She leaned back in her chair. "What about you, Mulder? Did you do anything exciting last night?"
"Just about as exciting as your night. I couldn't sleep very well, either."
"Why?" Concern flooded Scully's eyes. God he loved how she looked when she was worried Her eyes almost changed colors... from their normal clear blue, to a darker more serious azure. "Were you having nightmares again?"
"No... it was just boredom, I think."
"Me too. We live in Washington DC, but I've never actually seen the city... I've been too busy." Mulder looked at her knowingly. Their adventures together, if you could call them that, had left them with little time to get to know the very city they lived in. In fact, last night had been the first time in about six months that there had been nothing pressing to do. Scully looked at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
"Sad, isn't it."
"Yeah. It is." Mulder said quietly.
"I've been doing this work for so long... it almost seems repetetive."
"I know what you mean." Mulder saw his chance and grabbed it. "But I did try something new last night."
"Really? What's that?" Scully looked at him questioningly.
"I listened to the radio." he watched her, stifling a grin when he saw her tense and stop moving completely for a moment.
"Is that right?" Scully quickly directed her attention again to her computer.
"Yeah. A good station really. One I never listened to before."
Scully was panicing. Adrenaline rushed through her system, and for a moment she considered bolting. 'Oh God... he heard it. God... what should I do?' She sat, staring through her computer, fully concious of Mulder's eyes burning into her.
"I heard a really good song, too." He watched as she tensed yet again. "Are you O.K., Scully?"
"I'm fine, Mulder."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah... you know what? I've got to go." She jumped up and rushed out of the room.
"Damnit!" Mulder jumped up and rushed after her, down the poorly lit basement hallway. "Scully!" He caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder. "Where are you going?"
"I've got to be somewhere, Mulder." She backed away from him and pulled her shoulder away from his hand. Quickly, she started walking again.
"It was you, wasn't it?" He stated flately, trying desperately to keep her from leaving.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mulder."
"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" Mulder worked to hold back the anger building inside him. Now was not a good time to yell at her. "The song, Scully. I saw how you froze when I metioned I was listening to the radio last night. I heard it, Scully." She stared at him, stricken, and lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mulder... can we just forget about it?" She asked without raising her head. Mulder moved towards her.
"Forget about it? Why would I want to do that?"
"Because-" He interupted her abruptly.
"It was beautiful, Scully." He grabbed her hand in his, and was surprised to find it shaking. He squeezed it gently. "Scully... why didn't you tell me before?"
"Tell you what, Mulder?" She said halfheartedly, knowing he saw right through her.
"How you felt. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Scully still stared at the ground. Mulder brushed away the stray auburn strands of hair that fell around her lowered face and raised her chin so he could see her clear blue eyes. "Why?"
She stared at him, eyes growing wet with years of unshed tears.
"Because, Mulder," she said softly. "It didn't seem right. I knew it would turn out like this."
"What do you mean? How has it turned out?"
"God, Mulder! Don't you understand? I could never tell you! And I should never have done what I did last night! It wasn't right. How can we ever get back to what we had before all of this? We can't.."
Mulder watched as a single tear rolled slowly down her face. God, he hated it when she cried. Silently, he ran his finger lightly along the wet path the tear had taken, catching it before it fell and moistened her dark suit-coat.
"And who says we have to go back, Scully? Why don't we try going forward?" He stroked his hand over her cool, damp cheek and watched her eyes.
"We can't. I can't. It hurts to see you every day and to love you so much and not be able to tell you. And now to know that you could never- " He stopped her, placing two fingers over her mouth to silence her.
"I do, Scully." He looked at her and smiled as he saw the realization flood her eyes.
"But I never knew," she said softly, the tears in her eyes replaced by disbelief. They stood for several moments before she spoke again. "How long?"
"Since we met... since I knew that I could trust you with my life- my beliefs. It's been so hard, not being able to tell you."
"Mulder-" He stopped her again and smiled.
"Please- let me do this- just once." He stepped closer to her- close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her cheeks. Mulder leaned in, grabbing her head gently between his hands, pulling her up onto her tiptoes, as his lips touched hers for the first time. It was like nothing they had ever felt before. Scully sighed softly and wraped her arms around Mulder's neck. She was overwhelmed by emotions... the emotions that she had, for so long, been forced to keep bottled up inside of her. This kiss- this man- was the part of her life that had been missing.
Finally, they ran out of breath and reluctantly broke apart.
"Scully-" Mulder started. This time, Scully stopped him. She breathed deeply, gathering much needed air into her lungs.
"Mulder, first of all, your going to be doing that a lot more than once. And second of all, we're not going to be doing any more of it around here. Someone could see us." Mulder offered a weak smile, but his eyes quickly turned serious.
"Scully... is this really going to work? I mean, would we be better off if none of this had ever happened?" His eyes searched hers, and it was obvious to her the answer he wanted to hear.
"No, Mulder. It's better this way." Scully smiled and took his hand in hers as they walked quietly back to their office.
"So, Scully... you're place or mine?" Mulder was smiling again as they walked into their office, shutting the door behind them.
October 23, 1998
12:38 a.m.
The late night air rushed through Dana Scully's open window, mixing the sounds of honking cars and the slow melodies of the radio playing in her living room. Scully shivered and walked to the window. Looking out through the screen, she saw the half moon reflecting off the asphalt, which glistened with the dampness of a previous rain.
Scully lay back down on her soft, light brown couch, half asleep, half awake, thinking about nothing in particular. She had been laying like that for the past two hours. Laying, staring into space, and analyzing her purpose in the general scheme of things.
She had nothing to do. She and Mulder had finished their latest case that afternoon, turned in their report to Assistant Director Skinner, and together had decided to take the rest of the day off. It was such a rare occasion to have some time to do what she wanted, and Scully felt as if she should be celebrating... but with who? Her lack of anything close to a social life left her with no one to talk to except her family, and her paranoid, psychoanalytical partner who, she figured, was at this very moment out at his version of a wild party with his even more paranoid buddies, going over yet another far-fetched conspiracy theory.
Scully sighed. There had to be something to do around here! It was Washington DC, for God's sake! She forced herself to get up, and walked into her kitchen.
* * * * *
At that very same moment, despite Scully's contrary beliefs, Mulder was fighting off the same thing his partner; boredom. He had spent the last half an hour flipping aimlessly through cliché sci-fi dramas on T.V., which were the only halfway decent shows that aired at this hour in his opinion. After reaching the last station again, for the eighth time in the past ten minutes, he flipped the television off and stared at the still glowing screen. As the faint glow died down, he sighed, realizing how pathetic he really was.
When he wasn't busy chasing aliens, fighting off mutants, avoiding deadly viruses, uncovering the dirty truth behind an ever growing governmental conspiracy, or filling out reports explaining why he had been doing those things in the first place, he really had nothing to do. He was at a loss when he wasn't being shot at, beaten up, or chased. He sat staring at the now dark television screen for another few minutes. He finally got up and began rummaging through a huge pile of scattered papers, pizza boxes, books, and discarded photos that had been shoved into the corner of his tiny apartment.
He grunted as he shoved a pile of manila folders aside, and silently cursed himself for being such a slob. After several more minutes of digging, he found what he was looking for... his old radio. He hadn't listened to it for at least six months, and had never bothered to buy a new one. He set it down on his desk, stared at his messy living room and began the long search for an electrical outlet.
* * * * *
Scully sat at her kitchen table, her elbows resting on the cold wood, fingers threaded through tousled auburn hair. She was staring blankly at the stunning yellow pages of the phone book in front of her.
She had already flipped through the phone book about three times, and had found nothing to do that sounded like much fun. She slammed the phone book shut, annoyed that simple boredom was ruining a perfectly good night.
She knew that she would really rather be spending the evening with Mulder. Sure- she spent almost every day with him, but she liked him. Mulder was great to spend time with. God- that was the understatement of the year. She laughed dryly.
Mulder. Now there was a topic she could talk about forever. No one had any idea how much she cared about him... how every time he smiled, laughed, or gently touched her on the back or arm as he led her through the door... he held her heart in his strong hands, without really knowing it. His simple gestures created an ache in her chest like nothing else could. It was an ache that had been a part of her life since the first time she met him in that poorly lit broom closet that they fondly called an office. She felt so strongly about him, but it was a feeling that no one but she could understand. And she wasn't even sure if she understood.
She wished she could tell him how she truly felt- she wished that she didn't have to tell him the half truths and limit their personal moments to those of friendly affection. Even those were so rarely shared between them. She wished she could tell him how much she really cared for, and loved him.
Yes... she loved him. She had admitted it to herself awhile ago, but she could never admit it toanyone else. Not only did it go against God knows how many of the Bureau's rules, but it went against Scully's own promise to herself- the promise that she would never need anyone else to get her through. .And if she ever admitted that she loved Mulder, she would be admitting that she needed him.
Resignedly, she laid back down on the couch, after turning up the volume on her radio. She sighed again, peacefully this time, as the soft music filled the room. For some reason she always got so wired when she was bored, but the music eased her frayed nerves and calmed her down a little. She was half asleep when the radio DJ cut in with a rather loud voice.
"Good evening, folks! It's one 'o' eight, and we're staying up late here on Easy 104.9. It's a special night, and we're taking your requests and dedications. Send a song out to that special someone. Tell them how much you love them... courtesy of Easy 104.9..."
The announcer quieted as another soft song began to play. Scully stared at the radio for a moment, contemplating an idea that had momentarily pushed into her thoughts. She gave herself a mental slap, bringing herself suddenly back to reality.
What was she thinking? She couldn't dedicate a song to Mulder! How could she even consider that? She could see it now... 'yes Mulder, I've loved you for a long time and just in case you hadn't realized it before, here's a song that tells you exactly how I feel'. Scully laughed softly to herself. It was almost ironic, but she already knew of a song that could work. "No!" She shouted to the empty room, startled by the loudness of her voice. "I can't make myself that obvious! Mulder could hear it. Christ- it could ruin our whole relationship!" She paced back and forth, disturbed by her dilemma.
She was even more disturbed by the nagging feeling in the back of her mind, trying to convince the emotional, not the rational part of her mind, to do the thinking for once. It was one in the morning. Mulder was probably still out with the Lone Gunmen (his only friends- at least that she knew of). Either that or he was asleep... and even if he wasn't, he never listened to the radio. Especially not the stations that she listened to. He had told her that himself- the mushy love songs weren't his style.
Her emotions got the better of her. "Oh, what the Hell. What are the chances that Mulder is listening to the radio at one in the morning?" She picked up the phone and dialed the radio station's phone number. She hung up quickly after requesting her song, pushing the nervous and uneasy feeling out of her mind.
Maybe she would feel better if she could express her feelings like this... without anyone really knowing. She leaned back on the arm of the couch, waiting for her song to be played.
* * * * *
A cold breeze blew through the slightly opened window of Mulder's apartment. He had spent almost half an hour searching his apartment for an outlet to plug in his radio. He had begun to consider the search a waste of time, until he found a single plug-in behind his desk. He pulled out the plug and the lamp sitting on his desk flickered out, leaving him in darkness.
"Damn." Without bothering to turn on another light, he fumbled around in the blackness and found his radio, which was still sitting on his cluttered desk. He plugged it in and searched blindly for the volume and tuning knobs. He turned the volume up a couple notches and began searching for a good station. He gave up and left it playing on the next station he found.
Exhausted, Mulder flopped down on his couch, long legs sprawled and hanging off the armrest on the opposite end. He relaxed and let the cold air lull him into a thoughtless trance. He absently listened to the excited advertisers, and waited for the music to start again. He smiled slightly when he heard the DJ begin speaking in a voice much more soothing than the advertisers.
"We're back... and you're listening to Easy 104.9. We're doing all requests and dedications tonight- call in and we'll see what we can do for you." Mulder chuckled. He hated this kind of music. He even remembered telling Scully as they were riding in her car one day. Love songs were too depressing. He had problems of his own. No need to worry about other people's, too.
She had been quiet after that. He hadn't thought about it much then, but now... with nothing else to think about, he began to contemplate why she would have been so quiet. It was just a simple difference of opinions on music.
He remembered the look that she had given him. It was the one look that he'd never been able to understand. He tried so hard to understand her. There were days when her eyes were clear-the purest shade of crystalline blue, and he could read her feelings like a good book. Then there were days when her eyes were desolate... her mind shadowed by some kind of fear or sadness that he couldn't make sense of. It was those looks that he hated. And it was when she gave him those looks that he wanted to reach out and hold her- rid her of those fears and erase from her memory all of the evils that she had seen- cure everything that had ever hurt her. But most of all, he wanted to see love in those eyes- those gorgeous, hauntingly beautiful eyes that stayed with him every day and every night... and he wanted her to be able to love him.
He shook his head. "Stop kidding yourself, Mulder. It'll never happen." He knew it deep in his heart. He was a shell of a man. He had sacrificed his soul in the endless search for the truth- and there was nothing left to love. He had decided long ago that telling Scully how he felt could only lead to worse things. It was better that he keep it to himself.
He sadly, directed his thoughts back to the radio. The announcer was still talking, and Mulder debated whether or not to get up and search for another station. He decided against it. The least he could do was try listening to one of Scully's radio stations, and he really didn't feel like getting up.
He focused again on the radio and listened to the DJ's voice.
"Well, folks, it's time to start another thirty minute song stretch of favorite easy listening hits that you choose yourself. This next song was called in by a nice lady who sounded awfully sad. It's one twelve and here's "Full of Grace" by our favorite singer... Sarah McLachlan."
* * * * *
Scully, on the other hand, wasn't nearly as relaxed. She was too nervous that someone would hear the song and the dedication, and somehow connect it to her.
It had all seemed like innocent fun when she had called the radio station, but now it seemed like way too big a risk for her to take. She stopped pacing back and forth, though, when the DJ announced her song.
"I'm being ridiculous. Even if someone did hear this song, what's to say that they would realize that it was from me?" She sank down onto the couch again and tried to relax. "Sure," she said to herself. "No one will figure it out. I didn't put my name in the dedication. There's no way that Mulder is listening anyway."
She calmed down significantly and listened to the song. She loved this song. Sarah McLachlan wasn't one of her favorite singers, but this song in particular reminded her so much of Mulder and her.
"...pulled down by the undertow...
never thought I could feel so low..."
Scully sighed and snuggled into the warm cushions of her couch.
* * * * *
"I know I can love you much better than this...
Full of grace... full of grace my love..."
Mulder found himself unexpectedly drawn in by the song... it reminded him of Scully. In fact, it reminded him a lot of himself, as well. He sat up on the couch and continued to listen intently.
"...it's better this way... I say...
Haven't seen this place before...
Everything we say and do... hurts us all the more..."
* * * * *
"God, it that true," Scully said to the empty room. Everything she and Mulder did seemed not to bring them hope or happiness, but only helped push them deeper into the pit they had fallen into more than five years ago.
* * * * *
"I feel just like I'm sinking...
and I claw for solid ground..."
"Now that's me." Mulder was getting into the song, now, trying to attach a meaning to every line. "I felt so lost before I met Scully, but she's saved me from being overtaken by my sadness and anger. She is my solid ground." He smiled to himself, and listened in silence to the last few seconds of the song...
"I know I can love you much better than this...
But it's better this way..."
Mulder sat motionless after the last line was played, letting the full meaning of the song sink in. For some reason, it made him feel an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He knew it wouldn't be better that way.
"Wait," he muttered to himself. "It's just a song. I'm acting crazy. Lovesick and crazy. Giving meaning to a song that's nothing more than that- a song- just because I want it to have a meaning."
He got up from the couch where he had begun the night, bored out of his mind. Now he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep at all. His mind was too busy sorting out all the junk that had just flown through his head. He paced slowly back and forth in his living room.
"A beautiful song... that was sent in by anonymous... and she gave us a message. I'll read it to you now...
'that was for you, Mulder.' "
Mulder froze and stared at the radio as if it could answer the question in his eyes. "Short but sweet," he DJ said. "Best way to go. And now, another song to relax you... it's one seventeen."
Mulder froze- his mind blank momentarily. He sank down onto the couch, running his hands nervously through his hair.
Could that song really have been meant for him? There had to be hundreds of Mulders in Washington DC... For lack of a better idea, he rummaged around on his desk and came up with the massive DC phone book. Moving to his desk, he flipped the switch on his lamp. It didn't turn on.
Swearing to himself, he moved to the window so he could read by the brightness of the streetlights outside. He flipped wildly through the pages, looking up his own name. He stared when he found it. Only five other than him. What were the chances that it was him that the song was dedicated to... not one of the five others who shared his last name?
He was beginning to convince himself that this was much more than a coincidence. If the song had been meant for him... he could think of only one person who could have done it. How many people went around dedicating songs using someone's last name? Scully.
He grabbed the phone and started to dial Scully's number, but stopped. If Scully had, in fact, dedicated that song to him, then she was, in effect, saying the words that he had wanted to hear from her for so long. But if it the song hadn't been meant for him, then he would be on the phone admitting his deepest secret to a woman probably didn't return the feeling. He had to be a little careful... keep a low profile. At least for now. He had an idea.
He could wait until tomorrow. Finally feeling a little tired, he lay down and closed his eyes, hoping for sleep to overcome him.
* * * * *
Scully couldn't sleep. She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling above her. She had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.. a combination of nervousness and excitement. After running over the events of the past several hours in her mind, she decided against sleep. If she couldn't fall asleep now, she wasn't going to.
With a moan, she rolled herself out of bed. She jumped as her bare feet hit the ice cold floor, and she walked quickly to her dresser and pulled on a pair of socks. She shuffled slowly to the kitchen and set a kettle of water on the stove to boil.
As the water slowly started to bubble, she sat sleepily at her kitchen table, staring at a vase of flowers that looked as if they had gone several days too long without water. The kettle began to whistle impatiently and she quickly jumped to her feet, turning the burner off and pouring the hot water into a flowered mug. She ripped a teabag from its package and immersed it in the steaming water.
After a few moments, she walked carefully with her tea back to the living room and sank down on the couch. She breathed deeply, enjoying the scent of heated herbs, and let her mind flood with her thoughts until she finally fell asleep.
October 23, 1998
9:49 a.m.
Mulder was trying to act busy. He had awakened at five in the morning, refreshed from several hours of dreamless sleep. Scully was late, and he hoped to God that she hadn't decided to take the day off.
He really had no idea what he was going to say to her. It was just knowing that he was going to say something. He sat down at his desk and propped his feet up, trying to look preoccupied, which was how he guessed he usually looked. Just as he got settled in, the door of the office opened, and Scully quietly walked in.
Mulder grabbed a stray manila folder from his desk and busied himself with it. After a few moments, he risked a glance over the top of the file. Scully was busily setting up her laptop in front of him.
"Morning, Scully." He smiled at her over the file.
"Morning, Mulder." He watched her as she busily began typing. Her eyes were tired and dark. She looked exhausted. 'Maybe she was up late.' Mulder smiled to himself.
"So... did you enjoy your time off last night?" Mulder asked her, easing his way into a conversation.
"Yeah. It was O.K. I hit the sack early." She glanced at him fleetingly, then returned her gaze to the glowing computer screen.
"Got some rest, huh?"
"Yep."
"Certainly looks like it." He smiled, pointing to her eyes.
"I had a little trouble falling asleep." She leaned back in her chair. "What about you, Mulder? Did you do anything exciting last night?"
"Just about as exciting as your night. I couldn't sleep very well, either."
"Why?" Concern flooded Scully's eyes. God he loved how she looked when she was worried Her eyes almost changed colors... from their normal clear blue, to a darker more serious azure. "Were you having nightmares again?"
"No... it was just boredom, I think."
"Me too. We live in Washington DC, but I've never actually seen the city... I've been too busy." Mulder looked at her knowingly. Their adventures together, if you could call them that, had left them with little time to get to know the very city they lived in. In fact, last night had been the first time in about six months that there had been nothing pressing to do. Scully looked at him, knowing exactly what he was thinking.
"Sad, isn't it."
"Yeah. It is." Mulder said quietly.
"I've been doing this work for so long... it almost seems repetetive."
"I know what you mean." Mulder saw his chance and grabbed it. "But I did try something new last night."
"Really? What's that?" Scully looked at him questioningly.
"I listened to the radio." he watched her, stifling a grin when he saw her tense and stop moving completely for a moment.
"Is that right?" Scully quickly directed her attention again to her computer.
"Yeah. A good station really. One I never listened to before."
Scully was panicing. Adrenaline rushed through her system, and for a moment she considered bolting. 'Oh God... he heard it. God... what should I do?' She sat, staring through her computer, fully concious of Mulder's eyes burning into her.
"I heard a really good song, too." He watched as she tensed yet again. "Are you O.K., Scully?"
"I'm fine, Mulder."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah... you know what? I've got to go." She jumped up and rushed out of the room.
"Damnit!" Mulder jumped up and rushed after her, down the poorly lit basement hallway. "Scully!" He caught up to her and grabbed her shoulder. "Where are you going?"
"I've got to be somewhere, Mulder." She backed away from him and pulled her shoulder away from his hand. Quickly, she started walking again.
"It was you, wasn't it?" He stated flately, trying desperately to keep her from leaving.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Mulder."
"You know damn well what I'm talking about!" Mulder worked to hold back the anger building inside him. Now was not a good time to yell at her. "The song, Scully. I saw how you froze when I metioned I was listening to the radio last night. I heard it, Scully." She stared at him, stricken, and lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Mulder... can we just forget about it?" She asked without raising her head. Mulder moved towards her.
"Forget about it? Why would I want to do that?"
"Because-" He interupted her abruptly.
"It was beautiful, Scully." He grabbed her hand in his, and was surprised to find it shaking. He squeezed it gently. "Scully... why didn't you tell me before?"
"Tell you what, Mulder?" She said halfheartedly, knowing he saw right through her.
"How you felt. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Scully still stared at the ground. Mulder brushed away the stray auburn strands of hair that fell around her lowered face and raised her chin so he could see her clear blue eyes. "Why?"
She stared at him, eyes growing wet with years of unshed tears.
"Because, Mulder," she said softly. "It didn't seem right. I knew it would turn out like this."
"What do you mean? How has it turned out?"
"God, Mulder! Don't you understand? I could never tell you! And I should never have done what I did last night! It wasn't right. How can we ever get back to what we had before all of this? We can't.."
Mulder watched as a single tear rolled slowly down her face. God, he hated it when she cried. Silently, he ran his finger lightly along the wet path the tear had taken, catching it before it fell and moistened her dark suit-coat.
"And who says we have to go back, Scully? Why don't we try going forward?" He stroked his hand over her cool, damp cheek and watched her eyes.
"We can't. I can't. It hurts to see you every day and to love you so much and not be able to tell you. And now to know that you could never- " He stopped her, placing two fingers over her mouth to silence her.
"I do, Scully." He looked at her and smiled as he saw the realization flood her eyes.
"But I never knew," she said softly, the tears in her eyes replaced by disbelief. They stood for several moments before she spoke again. "How long?"
"Since we met... since I knew that I could trust you with my life- my beliefs. It's been so hard, not being able to tell you."
"Mulder-" He stopped her again and smiled.
"Please- let me do this- just once." He stepped closer to her- close enough for her to feel his warm breath on her cheeks. Mulder leaned in, grabbing her head gently between his hands, pulling her up onto her tiptoes, as his lips touched hers for the first time. It was like nothing they had ever felt before. Scully sighed softly and wraped her arms around Mulder's neck. She was overwhelmed by emotions... the emotions that she had, for so long, been forced to keep bottled up inside of her. This kiss- this man- was the part of her life that had been missing.
Finally, they ran out of breath and reluctantly broke apart.
"Scully-" Mulder started. This time, Scully stopped him. She breathed deeply, gathering much needed air into her lungs.
"Mulder, first of all, your going to be doing that a lot more than once. And second of all, we're not going to be doing any more of it around here. Someone could see us." Mulder offered a weak smile, but his eyes quickly turned serious.
"Scully... is this really going to work? I mean, would we be better off if none of this had ever happened?" His eyes searched hers, and it was obvious to her the answer he wanted to hear.
"No, Mulder. It's better this way." Scully smiled and took his hand in hers as they walked quietly back to their office.
"So, Scully... you're place or mine?" Mulder was smiling again as they walked into their office, shutting the door behind them.