Author's Notes: Earlier today I was watching/listening to Millennium on the upstairs DVD player as I made the bed and scrubbed the toilet and put away laundry. I wasn't really paying that much attention until I heard the New Year's music change and remembered the scene; what fan of the show could forget that moment, shipper or not? I stopped to watch, smiling, as the infamous kiss played out, and when the screen went black my mind simply continued where the episode ended. I dropped an armload of clean folded clothes to the floor, darted downstairs to the computer and began to write, and forty-five minutes later I had this as a rough draft (hours of editing followed but that's not important right now). I think the laundry's still scattered on the floor, most likely with one of our cats nesting in it. But it was worth it to have gotten this down before I forgot it.

Music Notes: I listed to the song "Kings and Queens" by the band 30 Seconds to Mars over and over as I wrote this; it put me in the exact perfect mood I needed to do this right. If you like rock music and haven't listened to this band, do yourself a favor and discover them.

First in a series of 3 connected stories.

Spoilers: This begins at the very end of Millennium, when they walk away through the hospital doors together.

Thanks to Cory and Alia for making the time.
It's always genuinely appreciated.

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By Suzanne L. Feld
Rated PG-13

He pushed the door open with his good arm and let it fall to his side as I went through, and I immediately missed the warm weight of it around my shoulder. I could still feel my deep disappointment that even after I'd parted my lips he hadn't kissed me again, and his only words were that the world hadn't ended. Oh, I got it all right; it was just now that that barrier had been breached, I wanted more. However, I had to be sure that he did, too, that he didn't regret his momentary lapse or he'd just done it on an impulse which he didn't want to take it any further.

I moved ahead of him as we walked down the wide, brightly lit hallway towards the exam room where he'd left his suit jacket, button-down shirt, and tie, and felt his big warm hand fall to its usual place on my lower back as he came abreast of me. I turned to give him a slight smile, acknowledging his presence, and to my surprise his hand moved to my waist, pulling me close, and gave a slight squeeze. This was more than the polite guiding hand and the gentle arm around the shoulder earlier put together… this was a lover's hold.

Or, God help me, at least I hoped that was how he meant it.

As we walked down the long corridor I ran that sweet, chaste kiss over and over in my mind, remembering how I hadn't been able to hold his eyes afterward due to the intensity and had to look away. Had I seen what I thought I'd seen? Real, romantic love, not friendship love, and respect and desire shining from those beautiful eyes? I hadn't been able to hold his gaze, and now I wished I had for at least a few seconds longer.

It had happened so fast and unexpectedly I hadn't had time to analyze it and react accordingly. Now, the moment was gone.

I had, I admitted to myself, hoped he'd make a move for a long time now, though I dreaded and worried about it at the same time. There was so much mixed up in us getting involved that it sometimes gave me a headache to think about it. Despite my feelings for him, which seemed to grow more by the day, I often refused to consider what it would be like if we moved past our years-old stalemate.

Now…the floodgates had been breached, at least on my end, and I couldn't close them on the feelings rushing through. My heart had jolted in a way I'd never felt before when I'd looked up to see his face descending towards mine, and despite myself I was nearly shaking by the time the brief, lovely kiss ended. I only had the presence of mind to part my lips as he moved away, having been too stunned to do it when he was kissing me. Instead of coming back for another, he'd moved away while giving me a look that nearly melted me into a gooey little puddle on the industrial tile floor beneath the babbling TV set.

Even now I was aroused in a way I had never suspected I could be. Proper little Catholic Dana, nipples so tight they were almost painful and panties nearly soaked after one innocently friendly, close-mouthed kiss. Had it really been that long for me that I reacted to a man like this?

Not just any man.

Mulder.

My partner.

My love.

But not my lover. Perhaps never my lover despite the yearnings I'd grudgingly begun admitting to myself over the last few months, even though I'd been feeling them much longer than that. If there was one thing I was good at, it was denying myself, be it foods that were bad for me or my feelings for a man I was afraid to love.

It wasn't like I didn't have good reason to hesitate. There were far more bad reasons than good when it went to taking our relationship to the next level, but right now the single good one was shining far and high above the bad ones like a newborn star in a dark, distant nebula:

The promise of that kiss.

We reached the exam room and he let go of me with a gentle squeeze as I preceded him through the doorway. I could feel his eyes boring down into me, but in an unusual moment of weakness I couldn't look back up at him, couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't see what awaited me there be it good or bad. Normally I preferred to meet my problems head-on, to confront them and get them behind me instead of dreading dealing with them, but this time I couldn't seem to find that courage. No, I was now officially a coward, plain and simple.

I could face all sorts of strange and terrifying things in the course of our work, but I couldn't bring myself to look up at the man I loved to find out if he loved me back.

Cowardice, indeed.

I watched as he turned away and picked up his jacket, noting that the bloody tie we'd used as a tourniquet on his arm was in the garbage can as was his torn and stained blue dress shirt. I moved around in front of him and reached up to help him settle the suit jacket over the sling that was on the right side of his grey-cotton clad shoulders, glad to see that my hands weren't as shaky as my heart. As I went to move away he stopped me with his good hand on my shoulder, and without thinking I looked up into his face.

Instead of speaking he leaned down and kissed me again, the same gentle, non-demanding, close-mouthed kiss that we'd shared just a few minutes ago. This time I opened my mouth beneath his, and I felt his lips moving over mine, not just pressed against them. However, neither of us made a move otherwise; we were not touching other than his hand on my shoulder, and neither tongue came into play.

As he lifted his face away from mine again, I thought we might actually hold hands by the next millennium.

That was far too long for me.

Though I've never been bold or forward in any relationship I've had with a man, I reached up and slid my hand around the back of Mulder's warm neck between the heavy strap of the sling and his close-cropped hair. I did it totally without thinking, without the usual rationalizing, without letting myself consider it at all. I brought his face back down to mine, and it was my tongue that reached out and gently caressed his lips as we kissed again.

His good hand slid all the way around my shoulders and pulled me firmly against his left side; I could feel his other hand in the sling resting against my ribs just below my breasts but it barely registered. His tongue met mine almost shyly as we both deepened the kiss. There was no demand for more, none of the maddening urge to dive into each other I'd been expecting to feel, but there was warm, promising passion between us, slow and low-burning but long-lasting; again like nothing I'd ever experienced. There was desire as well, at least on my part—I couldn't tell on his end since I was against his side—but it wasn't overwhelming. Just being in his arms, kissing him, both of us silently admitting how we felt was good enough for me right now.

This time when he raised his head and looked down at me with those emotion-filled eyes I didn't look away, and neither of us said anything. We didn't have to. Everything we were thinking and feeling passed between us in the time it took to need to blink, and slow smiles were exchanged. He was holding me against him and I still had one hand on his neck, and in unspoken agreement we slowly moved away from each other and towards the doorway, though we came together again once we were through it.

This time when we walked out into the hall and then out of the hospital together, I had my arm around him as well.

finis