Just something I conjured while on vacation. Written up on my mobile phone, so it needs a bit of polish. Takes place during IWTB.
Music is always a great source of inspiration for me, so I usually throw in a few lyrics. But I guess this evolved into a whole song-fic.
"Polygraph, Right Now" by The Spill Canvas
Disclaimer: I don't own X-Files, but I did rent I Want To Believe... and found it disappointing.


I wanna tear apart your room

To see if what you say is true

Darling don't you lie, lie to me

"I don't know what else to do..."

Scully's final words in the hospital locker room echoed in his head as he desperately tried to understand why she was doing this. She was his partner is every sense of the word. His touchstone. His true north.

How could she abandon him at a time like this? When they were so close?

Defeated, he ran his hands over his face and through his hair. He could feel it. This case -this X-File- had caused a shift in them. While he seamlessly returned to Agent Mulder, she dutifully remained Doctor Scully.

I wanna break into your heart

To see why you want us apart

I'm scared to death to find out what you think of me

In her attempt to keep the darkness at bay, he wondered, would she be willing to push him away as well? Why was the darkness they had so fearlessly faced on numerous occasions suddenly so repugnant to her?

This is what they did. They were Mulder and Scully. Scully and Mulder. Mr. and Mrs. Spooky.

And yet, they weren't. They were teetering on the edge of the darkness, as they always had. But it seemed this instance was different. One wrong step, and they could lose one another.

This time, if he awoke in a hospital bed the next morning, would she even be there?

Sighing, he realized he was wandering in circles about the hospital.

Was it really just the darkness? If not, what else could it be?

According to you we don't click

That's a blatant lie and you know it

Angel, what are you hiding from me?

Or, perhaps, who else?

Mulder was a confident man, but no man -no person- is without insecurities. He knew what he had in Scully. She was gorgeous, stunning really, and breathtaking in her elegance. Equipped with a brilliant mind and quick wit to match. He was also aware there was no shortage of handsome, available physicians at Our Lady of Sorrows. Doctors whom, he knew from her evening jests about her work day, were openly interested in her.

Would it be so wrong, he pondered, for her to want that? A companion who didn't have to hide within confines of their home? Someone she could proudly present to co-workers and friends? A man who could do something as simple as take her out to dinner without looking over their shoulders?

Mulder felt his chest constrict at the very thought.

If there is truly another secret lunch-break-working-late lover

Then I would die, but at least then I'd be free

No, he concluded, that wasn't Scully. She had proven time and again her relentless loyalty to him, and profound adoration of him.

As if on queue, he overheard her voice from a stairway. From behind, he spotted her fiery hair and could ascertain she was speaking with a young couple.

"If you were a mother, you'd understand," the woman said.

At those words, Mulder's heart broke. And while he couldn't see Scully's perfect porcelain mask she, no doubt, held in place, he could feel her heart aching as well.

That was it: the boy.

While he, himself, chased after the ghost of Samantha, desperate for closure. She clung to William, and the shameful agony that came from giving him up.

It was incidents like this that caused Mulder to seriously doubt the existence of a merciful God. Why would the fates conspire against the odds to present a miracle child to them -to Scully- only to force her to make that sacrifice? It was sadistic.

Mulder fought the nearly overwhelming urge to go to her, to hold her, to comfort her. To proclaim she was a mother, and a damn good one. But he continued to make his way to the exit, because there were women dying. Women he could save.

Fate is an elegant, cold-hearted whore

She loves salting my wounds

Yes, she enjoys nothing more

What seemed like ages later, they found themselves arguing. Again. At the hospital. Again. He was really beginning to detest this place.

Suddenly, Scully's eyes softened, "Mulder, you think I don't understand, but I do. This stubbornness of yours, is why I fell in love with you."

But I guess it just wasn't enough, he thought. The Beatles, in their infinite wisdom, claimed all you needed was love. But they didn't have alien conspiracies, fetishistic psychopaths, and mutilated corpses to deal with.

Mulder tightened his jaw as he attempted to deflect her eyes. The piercing crystal blues that could still make his knees weak.

"It's like you said...it's why we can't be together."

Now it was his final, cold words hung in the air, before he snatched up the photographs, leaving his partner behind.

I bleed confidence from deep within my guts now

I'm the king of this pity party with my jewel encrusted crown...


Review at your leisure. A simple *thumbs up* or *thumbs down* is good enough for me. ^_^
I've got another one of these lil song-fics still sitting on my mobile that I'll get around to uploading...soon...ish. lol.