It was a weird sentiment. I have never thought about Mulder that way before, or at least I wasn't admitting it. He was my partner. My best friend… But my feelings have been conflicting upon the pass of the days, months and apparently, they weren't meant to stop any time soon.
His smile whenever he cracks up a joke, or whenever he shamelessly flirts with me, as hard as it is for me to keep a straight face, are the highlight of my days inside that dark and forgotten by higher powers of the FBI abandoned basement. It is only Mulder and me down there most of the days, and sometimes, his jokes help me through every blank line on the long and exhaustive piles of paperwork. Because he keeps a smile no matter what. No matter how hard the day is, he is always trying to keep himself, and me, positive about the discovering of new cases, and our relentless search of the truth, which, according to him, is out there.
Now I risk losing his trust. Because, as hard as it sounds for me to accept, he could be infected. He lost his temper in the middle of the night and we pointed at each other with our guns. It was horrible. I could feel my hands shaking and my palms sweating underneath the cold metal of my Smith & Wesson. It was harder and harder with each passing second to stare at his face and hear him yelling at me that it was him. That I had to trust him. But my fears were bigger. What if he was actually infected? What if his life was endangered? I had to keep him away from human contact, for his safety. And the others, as well. So I managed to lock him.
His eyes give away the truth and the fear I hear in his words. "In here, I will be safer than you." I might have even found a fathom trace of lust deep inside his green eyes, but it was just probably my mind, playing some weird trick.
As the hours pass by, we manage to discover the cure. The dog seems to be fine; therefore we'd like to try it in Mulder… But they don't want to do this voluntary. They want to force Mulder into getting another one of those parasites into his body, IF he had one already.
"You can't go in alone." And I would like to laugh at Hodge's comment. Of course I can go in alone. It is my partner we're talking about. I have worked with him for months now, and I trust him with my life, just like he trusts me with his. Of course I can go in there alone. Of course Mulder wouldn't hurt me… Or would he? I am not 100% sure whether he is or not infected, but I won't risk his life because of some hesitation. My words are soft, but still strong and give away the confidence I hold towards Agent Mulder. "If anything happens, you come inside. I can't do this to him until I am sure." But it is not only him who I am talking about. It is about me, too. Because if I ever do some damage to Mulder, then I would never forgive myself. He would eventually come around with it, and he would probably understand the reasons behind my acts in case I did something wrong. But I would not. I would spend countless nights going over and over my mistake and the possible outcomes that I could have come up with when I took the decision I took.
I startle him when I walk in, his eyes squinting to the light coming from one of the simple bulbs from the corridor that leads to this supply closet, or whatever this room is. His fear, yet his defensiveness comes out the moment he simply opens his mouth to talk "It's just you?" And I answer "Yes." My voice shaking a little. It is hard to see him walk and stand like he is a caged animal. Mulder's personality goes against all this kind of behaviour, even though he spends most of his days and months into a desert basement.
He says it's one of them. I merely say, with the same shaky voice, that no one's been killed since he's been here. I hate to put myself in this position, where he finds me on the enemy side, when all I want is for him to know, that I am trying to protect him. That all I want to do is be by his side, no matter what. "So?" His defiance hurts a little, and it feels like a needle coming through my throat as I find it difficult to speak. He is probably mad at me, for not believing his words.
"We found a way to kill it…" I speak, my eyes never leaving his. "Two worms in one host will kill each other" I detect fear and madness into those beautiful green eyes of his. He is scared, but at the same time, he is mad that I am letting other people influent my freedom of thought. "You give me one worm, you'll infect me." He is definitely mad. And he is beyond hurt by the betrayal of my actions. But it is hurting me too, and I will stand my ground as long as I have to, to prove him that all I want to do is help him. "If that's true, then why didn't you let us inspect you?" My steps drag me closer and closer to him, making me able to stare directly into his eyes.
"I would have but you pulled a gun on me." He is talking through gritted teeth, and all I can do is stare at him as he leans closer to me, in order to speak directly into my face.
Having him now, inches near me is making as nervous as I was when I was pointing a gun at him. It was hard, and now, it is taking me every ounce of self-control not to launch myself into his arms and kiss his god damn perfect lips, because, honestly. He has the world's most kissable lips I have ever seen and I want to lock them with mine for the rest of my life. I want to be the one he kisses good night and good morning, even when he is 89 years old and has to use a cane to be able to walk.
"Now, I don't trust them." His words cut the air and I look away from his eyes. He is still gritting his teeth. It hurts me to hear how deeply mad he is.
Is this what love feels like? Not being able to think about anything else during a difficult and threaten situation? Because if that is what it is, I am way beyond in love with Agent Mulder.
"I want to trust you." His voice softens, and I look back into his eyes searching for the unspeakable truth that his soul hides. I know –Or so I hope- he feels the same way towards me. That the connection between us, that is still on its beginning, it's too fragile for him to profess his love towards me, risking breaking it. But his eyes give him away. How he stares at me. The way he acts around me. How territorial, protective and defensive he is of me. It has always been there, beating like the heart of a newborn baby and I know, or I hold the hope, that one day, this baby will start walking and growing, allowing us to step closer and closer, until the fear of our closeness and our connection does not break. That we remain the same. Like two constants. Being each other's touchstone. Two beating hearts connecting in one.
As I feel his eyes burning my face, I mumble, still shaking a little, a soft "Okay." That I am not sure he actually hears. My eyes feel teary and I am scared of the proximity of his body, which is providing mine with his own warmth. "But now they are not here." I continue my sentence, pointing towards the door and weakly looking to a point in the wall behind him. A few seconds pass by and he remains on the same position that he's been for the past 5 (Five? I could've sworn he has spent an eternity in this position, this close to me) minutes. My eyes connect with his, and I do not break away, showing him that he can trust me. That I will not hurt him or stab him in his back. He hesitates, searching into my eyes for some light of true.
Apparently, he finds the answer to a non-spoken question that hangs in the air and he turns around, holding softly his shirt on his shoulders. My eyes go all the way over the length of his back. His long and subtly toned back. What I'd give to be able to dig my nails into his back during a passionate night toget-FOCUS Dana, for heaven's sake.
Hesitating a little, I pull his shirt down towards the half of his back, revealing new skin that I would love to caress, not to examine. But I have to check on him. I have to make sure they will not risk his life. Using my palm and my thumb, I check for any sign of the worm inside of his body, taking full advantage of the moment to squeeze a little tighter, sending a small flush of arousal all over my body.
My hand remains on his right shoulder, barely squeezing it and I stare at his soft skin. Should I lean in and kiss it? Am I allowed to do that? But I don't do it. I simply let out a relieved sigh, pulling his shirt back to its original place. He turns around, fear in his eyes and asking with them for an answer to our question. I simply smile and look down a bit awkwardly, feeling a rush of heat creep all over my body to my cheeks.
As I turn around to leave and inform the others that Mulder isn't infected, his strong hand stops me right before I reach the door, making me gasp in both, surprise and fear. What's he going to do? I try to look over my shoulder, but his hand holds my head in its place, leaving me under his will. Delicately, almost like he was scared of breaking me, he pulled down the layers of cloth that separated his eyes from my skin and I can feel another wave of arousal cursing through my body. Turning my head to look down, I lock my eyes with the floor, softly closing them and giving up to his free will. He can take me right here and now if he wants to. I will not stop him. But being the gentleman he is, he uses his soft hands to move away some strands of loosen hair from my nape. He stares intently, and presses his palm over the back of my neck, looking for any bumps or signals that I'm infected. His hand is strong, and he closes it over my neck, making me shiver at the change of temperature in my back.
I can hear the other talking outside, but I can't move. His hand is there, and I don't want him to take it away. But he does, placing it on my upper arm. Softly leaning in, Mulder presses his lips to my shoulder and whispers soft words "Negative, Agent Scully." And the shiver that courses through my body makes me want to jump over him and kiss him, throwing my self-control outside the window. Leaning a bit further, he presses a soft kiss to my cheek and another to the corner of my mouth, allowing me to lean back while he holds my waist with his hand and leaves the other one on my upper arm. He continues to press kisses to my shoulder and neck, making me roll my eyes into the back of my head as this moment is precious, lustful and I do not want it to end. But the others are outside. And they will come in if we keep taking this long. So I softly murmur, moving my head to a side and looking at him, as soothing as I can "We have to go out… Otherwise, they will come in." His eyes give him away, showing me that he was, as well, enjoying this moment.
A stern nod confirms my words and I lean in to kiss his lips, but decide against it, softly pulling away as he lets me go. I open the gate door and step outside.