Author's Notes: This started out as a totally different story and, as they often do, the characters grabbed it away from me and took it over, doing what they wanted. If you don't like it, blame them since now I'm off to work on the one I had originally planned!
Spoilers: small for all things, Never Again, Milagro. Takes place late Season 7.
This is the R rated version of a NC-17 story which can be found on my website.
For Cory, one of few beta readers who has stayed with me.
Thanks--you really are the best.
The Elephant in the Room
Rated R for language and adult situations
By Suzanne L. Feld
"Goddamn it, now where in the hell did I put that?"
Mulder heard Scully's voice clearly in the hall as he arrived at her door and wondered if perhaps this confrontation was such a good idea. But he simply couldn't take another day like this, with her glowering and snapping and clearly in a bad mood. He didn't think he'd done anything to piss her off, but she wasn't saying one way or another, and he had to clear the air between them before one more uncomfortable workday arrived.
He stood outside her door, listening to her heavy footsteps and the rustle and thump of her moving things around. Scully had been in a temper for the last two days, and as much as he wanted to clear things between them, he wondered again hesitantly if this was the best time.
The door suddenly swung open and there was his diminutive partner, all fiery hair and snapping blue eyes and determined chin. "What the hell, Mulder? Why are you lurking in my hallway? I saw your car out front and knew you had to be around here somewhere."
He made no move to go inside, instead shoving his hands in his front jeans pockets. "I, ah, thought maybe we could talk. About—"
She chopped him off mid-word, very un-Scully-like. "Then get your ass in here, dammit. I don't need all my neighbors hearing my business, and nosy-ass Mr. Parker in particular."
He reluctantly stepped inside, hearing her all but slam the door behind him, and stood just a few feet in and afraid to go any further. As he'd half expected, the apartment was a mess, looking more like his place than hers. The pièce de résistance was a large box sitting in the middle of the dining room table half-wrapped, with pieces of colorful paper scattered around the area as well as pink and blue ribbons, a single rainbow-shaded Mylar balloon resting against the ceiling directly above it. Two of the chairs were out of their normally neat positions pushed up against the table, showing where she had been standing.
"I was wrapping a gift for my mom's friend Celia's daughter's baby shower," she explained grudgingly, passing him to go over to the table, "when I ran out of tape. And can't find more."
"I, uh, could run to the store and get some," he said, surprising himself. Normally he wasn't the helpful, fix-it kind of guy, he knew; he was more the type that would have had Scully running to get him something. But there was something wrong with her that had him worried deep down and for once in his self-centered life, he wanted to do something for her.
She heaved out a breath, standing next to the table, her small hand on the back of one of the askew chairs. "Thanks, but I know I've got another package of it around here; I bought a whole bunch in an after-Christmas sale last year—I just need to find it."
Mulder let his eyes wander over her; she was wearing one of her many light, low-cut, button-down sweaters and a pair of faded black leggings, feet bare and hair hanging loose. Her shoulders, usually squared beneath the heavy shoulder pads of the severe blazers she preferred, were slumped and her whole air was of defeat, dejection, and depression. Very unusual for his partner, who was more into determination and defiance.
"Then what can I do, Scully?" he said quietly into the ensuing silence. "I hate seeing you like this, I really do. Will you at least tell me what's wrong? What did I do this time?"
She stared back at him, a clearly surprised look on her face that quickly morphed to annoyance. "Jesus, why do you always think it's about you?" she snapped, shoving the chair into the table. "Do you really think I have no life outside of you and work?"
Shit. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. "I, uh…"
But she was on a roll and didn't let him finish. Pacing around the couch she glared at him from near the fireplace as she continued. "Sometimes I get upset about things that have nothing to do with you, Mulder, with events in my life that I don't tell you about. Do you know where I was this past weekend?"
He was staring at her and couldn't help it; who was this caged she-tiger he was closeted with? He had never seen Scully act like this, not even during or after the Jerse and Padgett cases, and he was getting the same vibes here. "Uh, no," he figured was his safest answer. "You just said you'd be out of town."
"And so I was. At my old friend Julie's wedding. I hadn't seen her since we left med school for our residencies, but she unexpectedly called and wanted me to come to Vermont to see her get married. Of course half our graduating class was there; it was like a damn reunion," she bit out sharply. "And while most of them were probably impressed by Professional FBI Agent and Doctor Dana Scully, almost every damn one of them had a date. Except me."
"I could have—"
"Mulder shut up!" she all but screamed, glaring at him across the couch and small rectangular table behind it, which was out of place like the kitchen chairs. "Just shut the fuck up and let me talk for once!"
Now he felt his temper rising in return but wrestled it back, wanting to see just exactly what she was up to. There was an edge between them tonight, something he hadn't felt in a long time… three or four months, to be exact. Since the morning he'd woken to an empty bed smelling of sex, and memories of a red-headed siren who had left him with his head spinning and a clear hands-off, forget-that-happened policy.
She took a deep breath, breasts heaving beneath the thin, pale green material; it was then he saw that she wasn't wearing a bra, and had to look away before his traitorous body gave away his thoughts. That would only make things worse, he suspected, despite the fact that they both knew he couldn't help it.
"And you know what, Mulder? I don't even care so much about the fact that I went alone as I do why I didn't have a date. Do you know why I didn't have a date?"
Damned if I do, damned if I don't, he thought, and just shook his head mutely, miserably.
"Because I'm so damn busy following your ass around that I don't have any friends left, I haven't had a date outside of that creepy bastard in Philly in a good six years, so I didn't know anyone to ask."
"I wasn't good enough?" He couldn't help saying, hurt.
"Dammit, Mulder! We spend all goddamn week together; I'd like a break from you now and then!" She turned and paced back into the dining room, kicking aside a drift of wrapping paper that sashayed lightly through the air and then landed in nearly the same place. This time she stopped almost directly between the two rooms. "Besides, I do get tired of always saying 'This is Fox Mulder, my partner.' Just once I'd like to say, 'This is Jim Smith, my boyfriend.'"
Mulder felt like he'd been slapped across the face and kicked in the nuts simultaneously, with a jab to the breadbasket to boot. He could only stare at her, incredulous.
"Oh, come on with the puppy-dog eyes," she snapped, glaring at him as she brushed her hair behind her ears. "Did you think I was going to spend the rest of my damn life waiting for you to make up your mind?"
"What?" was all he could manage between the hurt and anger and disbelief. Of all the things he'd thought might happen here tonight, this was not one of them. Now he was really beginning to regret insisting on this confrontation and wishing he'd kept his big fucking mouth shut. It might be the best thing, he thought, for him to leave and let her calm down before going any further, but he couldn't make his feet move.
"What the hell, Mulder! I can't believe you're playing stupid about this, and I don't need this crap right now. First I had to deal with Julie's wedding, now a baby shower… it just serves to remind me that I am letting my life whip by me without the things I once thought were just as important as my career. Such as a husband, children, hell, getting laid once in a while—"
That was the final straw that jerked him out of his shocked daze. "Getting laid once in a while?!" he all but roared, marching the few steps over to her and glowering down into her startled face. She backed up a step then recovered and, with her chin up and shoulders squared, glared right back at him. "Just how fucking often do you think I've gotten some, Scully? Trust me, I've gotten laid just as much as you have lately and that has been once in the last six years as well! And you were there for that!"
Her clear blue eyes snapped into his with equal fury. "I knew you'd get around to bringing that up eventually!"
"Oh? And just what do you think I'm referring to?" he sneered down at her, hands on lean hips. "Could it be the elephant in the room we haven't dared speak of these last few months?"
Her eyes narrowed and she stood her ground, though tinges of color infused her cheeks briefly. "That was a mistake, Mulder, and we both know it."
He clenched his jaw with an effort to hold back his anger. "Only because you made it so. It was not then, and isn't now, a mistake to me!"
It seemed to be occurring to her that she'd perhaps pushed him a bit too far. Taking a deep breath, she said, "All I'm saying is, I've been thinking that I need to reorganize my priorities. All that I've been through… as have you… and what do we have to show for it, really, Mulder? Yes, we destroyed the Consortium but that doesn't mean the invasion won't still happen in 2012. We know something else is going on, if not what yet… and I'm not sure I have the strength to go on and find out what it is at the price, the risk, of continuing to not having a life outside of our work."
Though she was calming down, he was angrier than ever. "So that's all my fault? That you've had to go without a family of your own or even have a date like a normal person now and then?"
They were nearly nose to nose, or would have almost been if Scully had had her three-inch heels on instead of being barefoot. She was eyeing him a little more warily and had lowered her voice, but it was too late for him to back down now. "I'm not blaming that on you, Mulder, I'm saying that perhaps I need to—"
"Oh, so there is something you don't blame me for? Your sister, your infertility, your lack of being able to attract a fuck-buddy while—"
Crack!
Silence fell in the apartment, both of them staring at each other. Scully held her right hand in her left, watching aghast as a red mark in the exact size of her palm appeared on the side of his face. Mulder couldn't quite believe she'd hit him, although somehow he wasn't surprised and suspected that he'd deserved it long before this.
"Mulder, I'm sorry—"
"Scully, I shouldn't—"
They stopped on the same note as they'd each started, still staring, astonished and shocked, at each other. She reached out and gently cupped the red mark on his face, then slid her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down so that she could press her lips to it. Without even thinking he turned his face so that his lips were beneath hers, and almost before he knew it they were pressed tightly together, kissing each other senseless. He had his arms around her shoulders, she holding him tightly around the waist. Finally he pulled away from her addicting mouth, gasping for breath, then begin kissing along her jaw and down her neck, hands moving from around her shoulders to skim down her back and pause, resting on the swell of her ass. She threw her head back, moaning softly as he nipped at her carotid artery then soothed the brief soreness with lips and tongue.
"We shouldn't be doing this, Mulder." Her voice was breathless, with no real authority.
He spoke huskily against the petal-soft, pale skin of her neck. "I'll stop if you tell me to, Scully. Just say it."
"I… can't."
* * *
They were laying spooned together on top of the rumpled covers, his long, lean, naked body wrapped around her more compact one. Now that the storm of their passion had passed, they each reveled in feeling the other's skin bare against theirs, and she held onto the arm wrapped around her ribs just as tightly as he was holding her.
She spoke quietly into the dimness of her bedroom. "Sometimes I get so damn… lonely."
"Me too, Scully. Me too. I wish we could alleviate that loneliness with each other."
"We're just too different, Mulder." A heaved sigh. "We drive each other crazy at work, never mind in a romantic relationship."
"Is that your justification for ignoring that we had sex the first time?" Though his words were challenging he kept his tone mild, unwilling to ruin this peaceful afterward.
She turned her head to try and look back at him and he loosed his arm around her so that she could, turning partly on her back. Their eyes met, communed, and held. "Is that what you think? I was ignoring it?"
"That's what it seemed like," he said, still speaking low and calm and holding her gaze. "You never mentioned it or acted like it'd happened; I thought you wanted to forget it."
She heaved a sigh, then turned her head away to lay her cheek on his outstretched arm again. He nuzzled the spill of rich auburn hair spread across his upper arm. "I could never forget our first time, Mulder, and I'd never ignore it. I just assumed you agreed that it was bad timing."
It was a while before he answered. "No, I think it was the right time. We waited so long, Scully, far past when we should have."
"I disagree," she said, but he caught the note of humor in her voice. "I think any sooner would have been wrong because I wasn't ready for it; I had to come to terms with my relationship with Daniel and other things in my past. But we've still got a lot of work to do; we can't stop what we're doing with the X-Files to play house."
"Who says we have to?" He gently pulled his arm out from beneath her neck and propped his head up on his hand, elbow on the bed, using the other hand to roll her onto her back. He smiled down at her, absurdly pleased with himself that he'd finally found out her problem and that he had a solution for it. "Scully, there's no reason we can't go on as we have all these years. We don't have to spend all our off hours together or move in together or even change how often we see each other if we don't want to. We can just have sex when we feel like it."
The eyebrow raised. "I wish it were that simple, Mulder. If only."
"This isn't a case, Scully; you don't have to automatically disagree with me," he grinned affectionately to make sure she knew he was kidding. "But I mean it. I believe that we can do this," he said in all seriousness as he let the grin fade, gazing down into her eyes. "We can be partners, friends, and lovers without changing our lives otherwise if you don't want to."
"You really think so?" she said, clearly doubtful.
"We'll never know if we don't try." He was nearly holding his breath.
She took a deep breath, nostrils flaring, then glanced away. When she looked back at him her eyes were mischievous, the corners of her mouth quirking upward, and she looked happier than he'd seen her in a long time. "Does that mean I can start introducing you as 'Fox Mulder, my boyfriend' when we go to events outside work?"
He laughed out loud and reached out with both arms to hug her against him. "Whatever floats your boat, G-woman."
She turned in his embrace and looped her arms around his neck. "You do, Mulder, and don't you ever forget it."
"Right back at you," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss her briefly, sealing the deal in his mind.
"Stay tonight, Mulder, and keep me company," she smiled up at him, nestling closer as he tightened his arms around her.
"Gladly. So, uh, what do you want to do with the rest of this evening, Scully, to alleviate our loneliness?"
"Now that the elephant in the room is gone, let's find the tape and you can help me finish wrapping that gift. And count yourself lucky that I don't ask you to accompany me to the baby shower tomorrow."
I'm lucky all right, Mulder thought, in more ways than that. Remembering his hesitation yet determination to talk to her tonight, he wondered what might have happened had he chickened out or walked away when he'd had doubts about how it was going… then decided that he didn't want to know. For once he was happy to live in the present rather than the past, and at that moment even worries for the future couldn't stop him from embracing this newfound happiness.
finis