I have no idea where this one came from, though once I got going on it I wrote the first draft in about two hours. When the muse grabs me, it takes me by the throat and won't let me go. I don't fight it too much either, to be honest.
Summary: Scully's thoughts after Mulder says "I love you" in Triangle.
Spoilers: Triangle
Much thanks to Marissa for a quick beta, and coming up with some of the best lines in the entire story.
Stars Bright, Fading Away
Rated PG
Suzanne Feld
"I love you."
"Oh, brother."
I turned away rolling my eyes and went out into the hallway, looking to see if Skinner and/or the Gunmen were in sight. They weren't. So I glanced around for the nearest restroom which turned out to be just a few doors down and which was, luckily, a single-person and not a multi-stall bathroom. I closed and carefully locked the door behind me then paused in wonder, replaying my partner's words over and over in my mind, recalling the look on his expressive face that had caused a jolt in my belly, which I hadn't felt in a very long time.
Oh my God, Mulder had said he loved me! And really meant it!
I released the iron hold I'd thrown on my emotions at his words, hugged myself and laughed out loud, as giddy as a teenager for a moment as I leaned back against the door. For just a few seconds I was no longer an adult woman, a well-trained and mature officer of the law dressed in a severe business suit with gun on my hip and badge in my pocket; I was short, skinny, awkward Dana Scully, Missy's ugly-duckling sister, a tomboy and bookworm that the boys played with but never saw as a girl. I hadn't bloomed until I was in my late teens when I'd finally let Missy take me under her wing and teach me about makeup and hairstyles. Suddenly, here and now, I was reliving those years of suddenly having boys like me as a desirable young woman and not just a pal and teammate. I felt the same way at this moment as I had the first time a boy had asked me out when I was a junior in high school, and it was an unnerving sense of déjà vu.
I had always assumed that Mulder loved me as much as I loved him, had for years in fact. We had proved it to each other without words more times than I could remember. I couldn't seem to recall a time since I'd known him that I hadn't loved him. For a long time I'd thought that someday we would be together, a nebulous 'sometime' so far in the future that I could never see it clearly yet knew it was there. To hear it put so bluntly made my dreary mundane world suddenly dawn into a bright new day, bringing the sense of an optimistic new life. A warm glow had spread through me at his words and I still basked in it, standing in a harshly-lit hospital bathroom with specimen cups on the back of the toilet tank and the tang of industrial disinfectant in my nose.
Mulder loved me.
I didn't want to think of the realities of the situation, that he was doped up on Vicodin for his various cuts and bruises and a broken toe, and that a near miss always made him a little melancholy and needy. What had happened to him out there alone? I wondered. I was sure I'd never really know but whatever it had been, it had helped break down one of the barriers between us.
Wait, stop, hang on, I told myself when I realized what I was thinking. I stepped away from the door and went over to the sink, resting my hands on the opposite edges and studying myself in the mirror in the harsh overhead light. I stared into my own shadowed blue eyes, seeing my expression go from hopeful to serious. Just what did I think was going on here? I'd been so shocked and stunned by his words and, even more so, the loving and intense look on his face, that I had made some type of smart remark and turned away, but what if he hadn't meant it in a romantic way?
Oh, he had, I assured myself. I had known this man for nearly seven years and I knew all his moods and expressions; though I had never quite seen this one directed at me, I had seen it when he spoke of the rare good times with Phoebe and... Diana.
Diana. Thinking her name was like splashing a bucket of ice water over me. My warm loving mood drained away to be replaced with cold resentment. Though Mulder hadn't told me much about her, I'd heard enough to know that they'd had a good relationship when they'd discovered the X-Files and it was only her leaving him that caused Mulder to distrust her now. I remembered how he'd almost gone back to Phoebe in '93 and knew that the same could happen with this mystery woman from his past; his ex-'little chickadee' to use Frohike's description. I knew she was going to be trouble for us both but there was little to nothing I could do about it at this point.
Perhaps... perhaps if Diana had not reentered his life I could have marched back into his hospital room, told him that I loved him too, and caused his cardiac monitor to blow sky-high by kissing him with all the passion I'd been keeping so tightly in check and now was seeping out around the cracks he'd made in my armor with those three words.
I dared not let this aberration make me think that everything was going to be perfume and roses from now on, I told myself in the mirror. In the fluorescents' unforgiving glare I looked older, leaner, tougher than the Dana Scully I saw in my bathroom every morning. There were hollows beneath my cheekbones that I had never noticed before, and a bleak, no-nonsense expression in my eyes. I was no longer that fresh-faced agent who had looked forward to the challenge of not only finally getting to do field work, but to be paired with "Spooky" Mulder. Now I was a world-weary experienced agent who had seen things over the last few years that I didn't even want to admit to myself. I couldn't turn back into a giddy teenager, falling in love with my partner and making all the same mistakes over again like I had with Daniel and Jack. I knew this, and no matter how cruel the truth was I always stood up for it. Even just within myself.
Oh, who the hell was I kidding? Mulder still thought it was fine and dandy to gallivant off to the fucking Bermuda Triangle without even bothering to leave a trail of breadcrumbs. Or, you know, a note. And he wanted to start a relationship.
Heaving a deep sigh I looked away from my reflection and turned on the water to wash my hands, patting my cheeks lightly with cool damp fingers. There was paperwork yet to be done to get Mulder released from the hospital, and then travel arrangements to get all of us back to DC. I pulled my FBI Special Agent Dana Scully M.D. persona back on like a comfortable old coat, mentally tugging it tight around me until I was snug and secure in my impervious armor again.
But once in a great, great while, I thought idly as I dried my hands on the rough brown paper towel, perhaps I could pull out the memory of Mulder's entreating eyes, his earnest handsome face, hear his gravelly voice saying those words again and let myself dream just a little dream while imagining what could have been if I had been able to answer him differently... and what yet could perhaps come to be sometime in the distant future.
finis