Author's Notes: I wrote the first half of this on the Lake Shore Express train on the way from Toledo to NYC, and the second half in the Executive Lounge on the 44th floor of the Hilton New York while having my free continental breakfast. I'd planned to surf Facebook while eating, but somehow I ended up working on this. Sometimes when the muse strikes it really doesn't matter where you are.

First in a series of three connected stories.

Thanks, as always, to Cory who manages to catch up no matter how many stories I flood her with.

In the Beginning
Rated PG
by Suzanne L. Feld

Had I not been aware of it for years, I would have known for sure how much I loved Scully when I saw that she'd fallen asleep against my shoulder.

It isn't just her natural outer beauty, or even her amazing intelligence or deep sense of fairness, of right and wrong. It's the soul that shines from those eyes, now closed and trusting me as she sleeps with her shoulder touching mine. I can only gaze at her peaceful face and let the feelings I have for her free rein for once, not caring if they show in my expression since she's can't see them. If she could, I'm sure she'd either pretend not to or mistake them for our deep friendship.

But it's far more than that on my part, and I'm still trying to decide when and what to tell her. I had hoped I'd get up the guts on the flight to or while in England, hence my anger when she declined to go with me. I just can't live like this any longer, pretending I feel nothing for her other than close friendship and that I can walk away without a second thought. I must be a better actor than I ever thought I could be because she obviously buys it.

I had tried to tell her before, I thought as I gazed down at her beloved face, but either at the wrong times or in the wrong ways. She clearly has not gotten it… or doesn't want to get it, I'm not sure which. I remember the moment I fell in love with her, a rather strange one but then I am, admittedly, a strange guy.

It was in the woods during the Moth Men case in Florida. It wasn't when she sang to me (that was more painful than my wounds) or when we built the tower out of stinking dead bodies, though both did reinforce our bond. No, it was when she poked her head out of my room and looked at me like I was nuts for running around yelling for her. At that point, I was so glad to see her that I didn't care what either of us felt or thought; it was only later, on the long drive back to the airport with the Perfect Agents, that I realized it. When it hit me, it was all I could do not to grab Scully and kiss her silly even sitting in the back seat of the rental car with the other two sitting in the front.

But, of course, I didn't. In fact I pushed the knowledge to the back of my mind and tried to pretend that I had never fallen in love with her. She was only my partner and friend until now.

Now, because I can't hide it any longer.

I wish I could wake her and tell her, show her, make love to her all night long. That's not going to happen, but it continues to fuel my fantasies which keep me going. In the last few months my quest for The Truth has become less and less important and I find myself thinking more and more of Scully than the work; I'm not quite sure if that's good or bad yet, so I'm just going to ride with it.

As I get up from the couch I make my decision; tomorrow I will not only tell her, but show her. Limbo is over and whether or not she's ready for it, tomorrow will be our new beginning.

finis