SPOILER WARNING: FTF
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNING: None
CLASSIFICATION: SRA; MSR
SUMMARY: A Silver Bracelet story. Awake in the middle of the night, Mulder is overcome with anxiety for their future together. Scully soothes his fears, and plans are made.
NOTE: Well, the Season 6 premiere is out, and now we know with certainty that the Silver Bracelet stories are incompatible with canon. Assume that we are in an alternate universe, that diverges after FTF.
Dark Midnight of the Soul
by Brandon D. Ray
December 29, 11:32 p.m.
Scully awoke in the darkness, and for a moment she could not remember where she was. The mattress was cold and lumpy, and the room felt odd and unfamiliar.
Then she remembered. Iowa. The Pull-R-Inn. Reports of strange lights in the sky at night over a small Midwestern town. Lights which had turned out to be a TV station's news copter trying to get the goods on a corrupt local politician.
Par for the course,>> she thought. And one of the things that helps us maintain such a high solve rate. Get to the bottom of it, and you get a mark in the "win" column -- even if it turns out to have been a helicopter and a couple of soccer moms with overactive imaginations and too much time on their hands.>>
She shivered slightly, and drew the blankets up close around her neck. Cold. It was so cold in the room. Mulder. That's what she needed: a Mulder-blanket. She turned over in bed and reached out for him.
He wasn't there.
She frowned. Where could he be? She listened carefully, but the room seemed perfectly quiet. Now that her eyes were adjusting to the dark, she could make out dim shadows: The low bureau set against the wall at the foot of the bed; the dark square of the television sitting on top of it; the doorway leading to the darkened bathroom. But no Mulder.
"I'm over here, Scully."
She jumped, then turned over in bed again. He was sitting slouched in a chair by the window, and despite the gloom she somehow knew that he was looking at her.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was soft and warm, but also somewhat distant.
"You didn't scare me," she whispered back. Somehow it seemed the right thing, to whisper. "Just startled me a little."
"I didn't mean to do that, either," he replied, now also whispering. "I think we've had enough surprises for one week. Don't you?"
Scully nodded. Then, not sure whether he could see her, she said, "Yes, I do." She hesitated, then went on. "Are you okay?"
There was a sense of motion in the darkness, and she decided that he must have shrugged. "Oh, mostly. Just couldn't sleep. So I thought I'd get up and think for a bit."
Scully considered that for a moment. She knew that he had bouts of insomnia, but there hadn't been any episodes since they had finally made peace with their feelings for each other on Christmas Day, and Scully had been hoping against hope that maybe the insomnia was a thing of the past. That hope was unreasonable, and she'd known it -- a problem that had been years in the making was not going to go away overnight, no matter how fervently she wished for it to do so.
"You know you could have woke me up," she said. "We could have watched a movie or something."
"I know." She could almost hear his smile in the darkness. "But you looked so sweet lying there -- sound asleep, drooling into your pillow. I didn't have the heart to disturb you."
Reflexively, she wiped her mouth with her hand and laughed softly. "Drooling, was I? Well, at least it wasn't on one of your suits this time." She heard him chuckle. "Seriously, Mulder...you could have got me up. I'd have understood."
"I know that. I do know it."
"Why didn't you?"
Pause. "I don't know. The things I was thinking about...." Another pause. "It didn't seem...fair. To bother you with them."
Scully let a bit of exasperation into her voice. "Fair? Mulder this isn't about fair. It's about being there for each other, no matter what. I thought we'd agreed on that point."
"We did," he admitted. "Years ago."
"But you keep running off on me," she pointed out.
"I know. I don't ever mean to do that to you, Scully; you have to know that. It's just...sometimes I can't seem to help myself. And since Antarctica I've been trying to do better."
She thought about that for a moment, and the silence stretched out between them. Finally: "You have been doing better. And I appreciate it."
"Only for you, Scully," he said quietly. "I wouldn't do it for anyone else. I couldn't."
"I know." She waited for a moment, until she was sure that he wasn't going to voluntarily advance the conversation. "So what were you thinking about?"
She heard a soft rustling sound, then the drapes covering the window next to Mulder slid back a few inches. A thin shaft of light trickled in, and now she could see his profile as he turned and looked out at the lights of the town. "Them," he said softly.
"Them?"
"All those lights," he replied. "All those people. Millions and millions of them, going about their daily affairs, earning a living, raising their kids, going to ballgames." He turned to look back at her, and now she could see part of his face, the side towards the window, dimly illuminated by the faint shaft of light filtering in from outside. "And not one in a hundred thousand has any clue what's really out there, waiting for them. Hardly any of them have seen the things we've seen."
Quietly, Scully got out of bed and took the three steps necessary to bring her to his side. Reaching out, she found one of his hands and grasped it in both of hers, raising it to her lips for a gentle kiss before pressing it firmly to her breasts. Then she knelt down next to him and looked deeply into his eyes, and waited for him to continue.
"It's just so damned hard sometimes, Scully," he said after a moment. "It's just so damned hard, keeping going, fighting for what we think is right, and always, it seems, getting the prize snatched away from us just when we think the battle is won." He nodded towards the window. "And then I think about all those people, just trying to live their lives and be happy, and I wonder..."
His voice trailed off, and Scully waited for a moment to see if he would finish the sentence, but he didn't seem inclined to do so. Finally, she whispered, "What do you wonder, Mulder?"
He looked back at her for a moment, then shrugged in resignation. "I wonder...I wonder about us."
"What about us?"
"We're two of the very few, Scully," he said. "We're two of the very few who really understand at least some of what's going on. And among that tiny number, we're almost the only ones who really care what happens to them." He nodded towards the window again. "And I wonder if we have any right to jeopardize their future by taking even a few moments for ourselves."
"Everyone has a right to be happy, Mulder," she said quietly.
He nodded sharply. "I'm trying to believe that, Scully," he replied. "I really am trying. But it's so very hard sometimes. It's not an idea that I'm accustomed to."
"I know. It's hard for me, too. Sometimes." She rose slowly to a standing position, and drew him to his feet. "Come on, partner," she said softly. "Let's go back to bed."
"I still don't know if I can sleep, Scully."
"That's okay. We'll just lie down for awhile and cuddle. If we sleep, we sleep, and if we don't, we don't."
"I don't know," he said. "You should get your sleep, at least. I mean, just because I have insomnia is no reason why you shouldn't --"
"I'm fine, Mulder," she said, then laughed softly as she realized what she'd said. "No, really; I'll be okay. I can nap on the plane tomorrow, if I need to." She tugged at his hands and shivered slightly. "Come on. It's cold. Let's lie down."
Mulder allowed himself to be led back to the bed. Scully tucked the covers up under his chin, then walked around to the other side and slid in next to him. She turned onto her side and looked at him for a moment: he was lying flat on his back, arms straight down at his sides, staring at the ceiling.
She leaned forward and gently butted the top of her head against his shoulder. "Cuddle," she demanded. He turned and looked at her for an instant, then extended his arm and gathered her in against his side. She snuggled up against him and buried her nose against his neck.
"Scully, your nose is cold."
"I know. Why do you think I'm doing this?" She shivered and tried to snuggle even closer. "I hate the Midwest in the winter," she complained. "Why couldn't you have found us a case in Florida -- or better yet, Hawaii? We can always visit Iowa in the summer when it's warm." She slipped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes.
He chuckled. "Sorry, Scully. Next time I'll check the Weather Channel before I accept an assignment." He fell silent for a moment. Then: "Scully?"
"Yeah?" She was finally starting to feel a little bit warm, and therefore sleepy.
"If you had to be an animal, which one would you be?"
She sighed. "I'd be an animal with a nice warm den that I could crawl into and hibernate all winter."
That earned her another chuckle. "Gotta love a woman with a one track mind."
"What animal would you be?"
"I don't know. I never really thought about it." He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You know that I really love you, don't you?"
She opened her eyes and raised her head to look at him. "Yes."
"I just....I don't know how to deal with this. I don't do 'happy' very well." He shrugged helplessly. "I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"I know," she said. "Me too."
"God," he said, scrubbing his face with his free hand. "Four days. It's only been four days, and look at us already."
"I think we're doing pretty well," she said quietly.
He looked down at her and stroked her hair. "You really think that, don't you?" She nodded solemnly. "Scully...is it really possible that we're going to be allowed to be happy? Aren't they just going to take it away from us, like they always do?"
"It's too late for that," she said, and stretched her neck to kiss him softly on the mouth.
The kiss started out chaste and comforting, but rapidly evolved into something more. Scully felt the passion rising in her, an almost physical force, starting at her center and spreading outwards, a tidal wave of warmth and longing. She squirmed and wiggled around until finally she was lying half on top of him, arms around his neck. Finally, their lips separated, and they lay in each other's arms, gasping for breath.
"God, Mulder," she whispered. "Oh, God." She felt herself trembling, and there was an aching neediness in the pit of her stomach. It was not a new feeling; in fact, she had been vaguely aware of it for years, but suddenly it had moved to front and center. Closing her eyes, she nuzzled her face into his neck, and whispered, "Mulder?"
"Yeah, Scully?" His voice was soft, and choked with passion.
"Do you want to make love?"
He was silent for a long moment, and Scully felt a slight tremor of fear, but his hand was continuing to stroke her hair, and she forced herself to relax as she waited for his answer. "God, Scully...I want to. I want to so bad it hurts..."
His voice trailed off, and after a moment, very softly, she said, "But?"
Another moment of silence, briefer than the last. Then: "But not tonight. Not...here..." Again his voice trailed off, and he seemed to be struggling to find the words. "I...Scully. I want the first time to be special. Not in some rat trap motel in the middle of nowhere."
Again she raised her head to look deeply into his eyes. "Mulder," she said, "the first time WILL be special, because it will be you and me. It can't get any more special than that."
"I know," he said. "I do know that. But at the same time..." He shook his head in apparent frustration. "I just don't know how to explain it." He smiled slightly. "It's going to sound all girlie if I explain it."
"That's okay, Mulder," she replied, also smiling. "You can explore your girlie side with me." She leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the mouth. "Tell me. Tell me how you want it to be."
"That's just it," he said. "I don't know that I can. I don't have some well-thought out fantasy or anything. I just want it to be special," he repeated. He stopped and thought for a moment. "And, to be honest, I guess some of it is a matter of control. I've been thinking about what you said the other day, about how I'm not really in control of my life, and I think you were right. I'm NOT in control, and that DOES scare me. I'd...I'd like to have a little bit of control over...this." He looked up at her anxiously. "Do you understand? Does that make any sense to you?"
She nodded solemnly. "It makes perfect sense." She paused for a moment. Then, hesitantly: "I'd like to help you take control, Mulder. But...it's pretty scary for me, too. It's as hard for me to let go as it is for you to take hold."
"I know."
They lay quietly in each other's arms for a few minutes, and Scully tried to think. What she'd said was true, all of it. It really was hard for her to let go, to let someone else take control of a situation -- especially one as emotionally charged as this one. But this is Mulder,>> she reminded herself. He loves me. He would never do anything to hurt me.>> She felt a fresh tide of love and desire sweeping through her. God, she wanted him; she wanted him now, tonight. But if he wasn't ready, it wouldn't be any good. It had to be right for both of them.
Both of them.
Scully.
Mulder.
Yin and yang.
Mulder. Her Mulder. The one she had come to trust as no other.
Suddenly it seemed absurdly easy. "Okay, Mulder," she said, and felt his embrace tighten as she leaned down to kiss him again. Just as their lips were about to meet, and remembering his words from Christmas Day, she murmured, "I love you. I'll do anything for you."
The kiss was long and deep, and full of passion. Without quite knowing how it had happened, Scully found herself lying on her back, Mulder stretched out on top of her, his weight pressing her down into the mattress. Everything felt so good, so right; she never wanted it to end. She would just stay in his arms for eternity, and nothing would be able to harm either of them.
Finally the kiss ended, and Mulder slid his cheek across hers, touching and caressing her face with his own. The dry stubble of his whiskers scraped her skin, sending a shiver down her spine, and she tightened her arms around his neck.
At last his head came to rest on her shoulder, and she could feel his warm breath on her neck and ear, and his words, when they came, were rich and full of promise: "New Year's Eve."
Fini