Title - Worry Kisses

Author – I love number 77 (inspired by Miriam Elizabeth Cooper)

Rating – PG, PG-13 to be safe (language mostly)

Spoilers - Memento Mori (Scully cancer arch)

Summary - One night in a single motel room, Scully attempts to reassure

Mulder when he expresses his concern for her health a startling way.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not CC, but I would like to say that this idea came from another X files fanfic writer, Miriam Elizabeth Cooper, who wrote the original Worry Kiss. She should be credited for this idea. I took it and changed the story greatly, thinking the ending needed a little more spice, but I insist you read the original.

Feedback: It would be greatly appreciated. :)

Author's Note: At the end.

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I knew it wasn't a dream this time.

I thought I had imagined it at first, the first night. You know those little twinges you get, and it feels like someone's touching you, but you know that nobody possibly could be.

But this was the second night.

My hair was up in a ponytail. Because, well, my hair had started to…thin. Oh, hell, fall out some. I'd wake up and find stands on the pillow, so, I began to put it up in a pony tail. I know this doesn't stop it from falling out, but when it falls out when you comb it…it just seems more normal.

And I was sleeping on my side. You have to when you have elastic bringing your hair to a clump on the back of your head, but that's beside the point.

Now, why is this important, you might ask? My neck was exposed, that's why. It was exposed to him.

Interestingly enough, Mulder was sleeping next to me. This wasn't the first time we had to share a bed. Even the sleaziest of motels can be filled, except for a one-bedder room. The funny thing was, they liked to use that word too, bedder, all of them.

But, getting to the point, for the first few times, my partner would take the chair or even the floor, insisting that he preferred it. Preferred it my ass. Another day with the whining of a stiff back, I was going to blow somebody's head off. About a year ago, I finally convinced him to get in the bed, putting his 'chauvinistic' claims by the wayside. It took the 'f' word to do it, but the floor was just stupid in my opinion. On the other hand, it was weird for the first night; we are partners, after all. But we've been fine ever since.

So, there Mulder was, lying on the other side of the bed, and I was lying with my back to him, and I never thought the back of someone's neck would seem so inviting, but obviously it was.

The first night, what I thought I must have imagined, happened this night, and I knew it was real.

A kiss…on the back of my neck.

This night, I rolled over. Mulder was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, and for a moment I had doubts. Had I imagined it? Maybe he'd just brushed up against me by accident? Or had he...changed his mind?

Any other time I would have dismissed it, but it wasn't like I had the time to waste contemplating it.

"Hey, did you just kiss me?" It was blunter than I would have liked, but the words just seemed to fall out of my mouth. There was no taking it back now.

At first he did nothing, didn't move, didn't flinch.

Did he not hear me? I wasn't going to ask agai-

His head turned "Yeah." He then went back to stucco-gazing.

I felt my breath hitch in my throat unexpectedly. Ask a simple question...

I swallowed.

"Oh," was what I eventually came back with, and turned my back to him.

I knew this discussion needed to be pursued at least to the point of encompassing multi-syllabic words, but I wasn't ready yet. My pulse felt like it was going to jump right out of my skin. So, okay, he kissed me...on the neck, and my heart running a marathon.

"Why?" I asked myself, but somehow the word escaped my lips and was audible. It pierced the chilly night air like a sword and my blood started to pump faster than I thought humanly possible; like there was no tomorrow.

And as if reading my thoughts, he said, "Maybe there is no tomorrow."

My body tensed. No Dana, you're not going to cry, not with him here.

There was a deafening pause that lasted longer than any uncomfortable moment we had ever shared. I knew my breaths were shaky, but it was all I could do keep the tears back.

He didn't speak, nor did he move. I knew his eyes were still on the ceiling. I knew he knew I was crying, but he was giving me as much space as possible. I knew he wanted me to share my tears, but I couldn't.

I breathed in deeply, and let out a pitiful, shaky sigh that made me feel even more powerless. However, it slowed my blood pressure some and I decided to make the invitation to talk. I knew he's wasn't gonna do it.

Or had he already?

I rolled over onto my back to stare at the ceiling with him. "That's not a sufficient answer."

I could feel his eyes on me, but I wasn't ready to look at him yet. My eyes were too busy tracing and re-tracing the stucco patterns on the surface above me. Now I know why he takes great interest in it.

"I'm worried."

His answer was so blunt, I had to look at him. Even in the dark I could see his eyes; deep, with dilated pupils.

A car happened to go by and I saw that they were the deepest of chocolaty browns.

I wanted to hide; to shrink so that no one could see me. I walked away the last time his eyes were like that, so full of emotion they hurt my baby blues.

Emotion? What kind of emotion?

I suddenly felt sick and retreated to the bathroom. I guess I was walking away again.

After the second dry heave, the pizza that I ate that night came up forcefully. It was bad enough to have to pray to the porcelain god, but the tears that I tried so hard to withhold made soft, pitter-patter sounds on the red locks that slowly sunk into my stomach contents.

It was the biggest chunk yet, as if I pulled out a fist full.

I wanted to die. No, the exact opposite: I wanted to live.

I heard the sound of friction on the other side of the door. It was t-shirt against wood. Mulder was now on the floor, his back leaning on the barrier separating us.

He propped himself up against the door slid down purposely, to make noise, because he wanted me to know he was there.

I rubbed the back of my neck, remembering the softness of his lips brushing over the sensitive skin. A tingle ran up my spine, and I wanted him to kiss me there again.

I flushed the toilet and splashed cool water on my face, rinsing my mouth out with toothpaste afterwards. I was sweating, even in the nippy night air.

He knocked softly on the door; it was his turn to invite conversation.

That's okay; I wanted him to.

"Scully, are...are you o-okay?" His voice was meek, and lateen with small sobs and the swallowing of tears. God, he had been crying. I didn't want him crying for me anymore than I wanted to cry for myself.

Tears were not going to change my condition.

"I feel better," I replied, being partially truthful.

"D-do you want me...(gulp)...me to g-get you anything?"

Shit. I was going to start crying again. I redid my ponytail, saying, "No, no Mulder, but you can step away from the door, please."

I heard a shaky sigh and the creaking of floor boards as he obeyed. He was trying to calm himself.

I exited the bathroom. His back was to me, trying to gain the last little bit of composure he could muster, and then he turned around.

God damned traffic! Two more vehicles shined their passing headlights on my face, or more importantly, the newly made, small bald spot on the side of my head.

He slowly reached out his hand and hovered his quivering fingers over the revealed skin, wanting to make it better, but knowing his hand was no miracle maker. It finally rested on my face, cupping my cheek. His long, piano-man fingers relaxed at the contact, and I found myself leaning into his palm, as if I could make it make miracles. However, it was doing just fine being mortal.

"Worried about what?" I breathed, continuing our interrupted conversation from earlier.

He smiled, but not any kind of smile I've ever seen him wear. It was a smile of pure spite, completely without hope. He knew what was happening to me, and he knew there was nothing he could do about it.

Before he could respond, I spoke. "I don't want you to worry about me, Mulder. I told you I wasn't going to let this thing beat me, and I won't. And even if there's...there's no tomorrow, I would rather go out fighting than be at home lying in a wallow of self pity."

"I didn't tell you to go home."

My brow creased. "But I thought..."

"I don't want you to go home. I respect your desire to keep working, but I still worry. I can't help but worry, Scully. You have no idea how much I could just wish it away. When I think of having to...to go on with...without...."

He couldn't finish it, so I did it for him. "That day may not...it hasn't come yet. And I'm never, ever going to blame you for what has happened to me; I never will." I had to add that last bit, because I knew he blamed himself for it all.

He smiled again, but this one was different. "I've never known a woman like you, Scully. I don't think I'll ever meet anyone quite like you. You're so God-damned stubborn, it can really piss me off. Your steal is hard to break through, and you act like you can withstand anything. That's probably why I like you so much."

I took a sharp intake of breath. Why was he painting beautiful pictures of me? "Mulder, I'm not that strong."

"I know. There's a hole, a weak spot in your outer shell that you won't show anyone, especially me. Why won't you let me see it, Dana?"

Dana? Since when has he called me that?

I said nothing, and couldn't look into his eyes anymore. I pretended to take great interest in my feet.

He waited for a response, and when he got none, he continued. "What good am I if you won't let me comfort you? You don't...you don't have to let me in, but please give me the courtesy of knowing why you won't."

My head snaped back up. "Why," I mouthed. Because I'm stronger than that! Because I can take care of myself! I don't need you! Tell him! Scream it in his face! He asked why, so he's gonna get an answer!

"I'm afraid." The words tumbled over my lips like broken glass, sucking the air out of the room. Did I really just say that? It didn't matter; they were the truest words I've ever spoken in my life.

The words weren't as damning as I expected. He already knew my fear, my fear of being caught with my wall down, and being thought of as weak. He just needed to hear me say it.

The atmosphere returned and we both took a deep breath. He didn't look any different, well, there was gratitude on he face. He was thankful that I trusted him. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if I let my guard down a little, knocked a couple bricks out of my wall for him.

"I do trust you, Mulder. But, I need to keep some things to myself. I'm...I'm afraid of showing my...my feelings. I feel more secure if I hide my "hole in my outer shell."

He scanned my face. "I'm here if you need me, Scully. Please know that. You have to confide in somebody, and I don't want you going through this alone. If you do happen to...to cry...." He then took interest in his own feet.

"You'll be there for me. I know."

He looked back up into my eyes, and his other hand came up to caress my cheek and to finally rest there. We looked at each other for a long time, but it was not an uncomfortable moment.

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

I couldn't breathe. No one has ever asked me that.

I put on a nervous smile, and my hand rubbed the back of my neck. "Should I turn around?"

He wasn't smiling. He was being serious.

My smile vanished in response. "Where?" I breathed.

His thumb gently ran over my lips. I started to tremble. "You don't have to...If you just feel sorry..."

"This has nothing to do with feeling sorry for you."

That stare just about floored me. My knees shook uncontrollably. He knew I was scared, but wasn't going to back off until I said no.

I couldn't speak though, all language left my tongue, but that's okay; I wanted his kiss.

I nodded as clearly as I could and closed my eyes, as if it was going to hurt.

Nothing. I felt nothing but his soft, warm breath. I waited, to the point where all my nerves washed away, and opened my eyes.

"What are you...?"

His lips brushed up against mine, and my eyes fell closed again. This kiss was even softer than the one he placed on my neck.

He started to pull away, but I wrapped my arms around the back of his neck, and our lips met again. There was a little more pressure, but there was no tongue, there didn't need to be.

We pulled apart, and I rested my head on his chest, snuggling my cheek in as far as I could. Screw looking weak. What did I have left? Months? Maybe weeks? Mulder deserved for me to let him take care of me. God only knows what will happen to him after I'm gone.

"I would do anything to make it go away, Scully, even take your place. You know that?"

I let one tear trickle down my face. "I know."

We stood there, just holding each other for the longest of times. I was growing sleepy, and wanted to pass out on his chest.

He must have felt my tiredness, because he dipped down and wrapped his arm up under my knees and lifted me up off the ground, cradling me in his arms.

I struggled a bit. "Mulder..."

"Please, Scully. Let me do this just once."

He laid me on the bed and cuddled up next to me, resting his chin on the top of my head, his arms around my waist.

"Just once," he breathed into my hair, snuggling his nose in it. It tickled a bit and I smiled, making myself comfortable.

As I drifted off, I knew I would be kicking myself in the morning for sleeping with my head in his chest. But maybe there was no morning for me, and if I died in my sleep tonight, at least I would die happy, and with Mulder lying right beside, his arms around my waist.

finis

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Again, I got the idea from Miriam Elizabeth Cooper and she should get the credit. Please review and read the original Worry Kiss.