TwoBodiesOneSoul

TITLE - Two Bodies, One Soul
AUTHOR - Tammy M. Parnell
EMAIL ADDRESS: LaLapine@aol.com
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Anywhere, as long as my name & disclaimer are on it
SPOILER WARNING: Gethsemane
RATING: PG
CLASSIFICATION: S, R, A
SUMMARY: When Scully finds Mulder crying...
DISCLAIMER: Les Frontiers Du Reel (aka The X-Files) ces ne sont pas les miens! If that makes sense... Eh, even if it doesn't, they're still not mine. Monsieur CC & FOX & 1013 ont tous; I have nothing. Merci a GA & DD pour soyant merveilleux! (Don't worry; I'm not crazy enough to try to write the story en francais!)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Enjoy! Comments welcome.

Two Bodies, One Soul
by Tammy M. Parnell

I killed her.

No, not directly, but the result will be the same. Tears poured down my cheeks as Carl Sagan's voice blurred in the background. My apartment seemed especially cold then, lonely. All my eyes saw was the look on Scully's face as she told me that her fatal condition was a result of my desire to believe. My whole world came crashing down then. Sure, I had felt it was my fault anyway, but to hear her say it, it was heartbreaking. But it hurt most of all because I believed it to be true. I would be responsible for my best friend's death and the inevitable suffering that would come with it.

And the rest of my life has been nothing but a lie. I can't even trust my own memories.

A knock interrupted my depression, but it was simply more of the background noise. I couldn't stop the tears; I was too tired to even move. Scully let herself in and was instantly at my side, trying to wipe my face dry, Sagan's face disappearing with a flick from the remote.

No, Scully. Go away, I told her, too guilty to face her.

Her smooth, cool hands ran through my hair and along my cheek as she spoke, her face etched with worry. I should never have told you that, Mulder. You know I don't blame you.

You should. My voice was unusually high. It's all my fault. I should have warned you before you were taken. I should have made you quit. I could have done something. You could be safe.

She shook her head slowly, and I could swear I saw her eyes moisten through my tears. I have always known and understood the risks, Mulder. I chose to accept them.



She looked uncertain for a moment, but her eyes never left mine as she said, Because the X-Files are just as much my life now as they are yours; because you are my dearest friend, and I would do anything for you.

If I hadn't already been crying, I'm sure I would have begun then. I wish I could trade places with you.

I'm glad you can't, she said in a beautifully compassionate voice, all the while holding my hand, seated close beside me. But I know you would suffer less if it were you who were dying.

Dying. She said that word. I can't stand to hear it. How can we ever find the truth among all the lies and deceit? How can we ever find a cure for you?

Maybe we can't, Mulder.

We were quiet a moment, her hand keeping up its steady stroking, my tears finally ceasing. I looked into her eyes, no professional barriers blocking the way to her soul. I will find the truth, no matter what the cost. After all, what could they take from me now? My life? I looked at the gun on the coffee table before me, and her gaze followed mine.

Oh, Mulder, you didn't think... Her anguished features were joined by fear, realizing how dark a place in which my mind had been. I couldn't face her, but her firm hand pushed my chin to look her in the eyes. Promise me something, Mulder.

I didn't answer.

she urged, a voice not to be argued with.

I nodded then, seeing her determination and knowing I would do anything she wanted.

I might not make it, Mulder, she said matter-of-factly. But no matter what happens, don't you even think about something that drastic. You'd be letting them win, Mulder. And you'd be disappointing me. She had moved closer to me then, her face only inches away. You're my hope; you have to live for both of us.

I could barely choke the words out. I promise you, Scully, that I will not put a gun to my head and pull the trigger. But I can't promise that I won't do anything drastic.

That seemed to satisfy her, knowing me as she does, accepting me entirely. But I could tell she was still worried. She again ran a comforting hand through my hair, her voice barely a whisper. The truth has caused you so much pain, Mulder. Don't let yourself get hurt anymore. You need something that will ease your suffering.

You do, Scully. It was so obvious, so true. There was never a question about the source of my happiness.

The expression on her face was indescribable; all I knew for sure was that the distance between my face and hers had slowly been erased, and her lips were gently touching mine, a moment frozen in time.

Then her lips moved slowly, tentatively. My surprise at her soft mouth on mine evaporated, and I joined her exploration as our kiss grew warmer, braver. Her hands on my chest, she nudged me downward until my back rested on the couch, her body a comfortable presence on mine, our lips never parting.

Her hands wound their way around my back, and somehow the kiss ended, her soft hair nestled against against my neck, her breath warm and pleasant. I rubbed her back slowly, rhythmically as we lay there, emotions bare, words unnecessary.

Hours passed that way, soothing, relaxed, honest hours in a week filled with stress and lies, disappointment and death. Only the doorbell awoke us from our spell.

Scully sighed and slowly extracted herself from atop my body, absently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It's one in the morning, she informed me as I came to a standing position. We turned at the sound from the hallway.

Agent Mulder? I need to speak with you. It was a female voice, one I was beginning to know well, for her contacts were valuable.

Scully's expression was unreadable as she asked, Who's that?

An informant, I told her, not moving.

Should I hide in the closet? It was an honest question, in spite of the amused smirk that lighted her features.

Only if you want to, I answered, wondering how Marita would react to her presence.

I don't.

I held my hand out then, and she accepted. We answered the door together.

Marita walked in quickly, not noticing Scully right away. Agent Mulder, we need to speak; it's a matter of dire importance regarding the-- Her eyes glanced over Scully, and she turned to me for an explanation.

This is my partner, Dr. Dana Scully. Scully raised her eyebrows at my usage of then nodded to Marita in greeting.

We need to speak. Privately, Marita answered, looking rather nervous.

We're alone, I replied, tired of playing games, not wanting to push Scully away.

Not with her here.

Uh, hello? Scully said in a pleasant voice. I am still in the room, you know. If you would like me to leave, you can ask me to my face, and I'd be more than happy to accommodate.

Marita looked embarrassed. Please then, Agent Scully. If you will.

You don't have to, Scully, I told her, but she squeezed my arm in passing as she put on her coat.

I'll go for a walk. Don't worry about me.

I watched her walk out the door, a faked sweet smile on her pretty face. I knew she wasn't mad at me, but it was obvious that these two women did not like each other.

I listened halfheartedly to Marita's dissertation about more bee-related deaths occurring in New England. She believed that though their stings were deadly that perhaps their honey had medicinal purposes. She was gone as quickly as she had come, my eidetic memory filing away her information for my next jaunt, one which I hoped would lead to a possible cure for my partner.

Of course, knowing the lies that had been fed to me for years, I certainly was not overly anxious to believe. She was surprised, I think, at the suspicion I subjected her to. In the end, I left her doubting that I would follow her bread crumbs. But in my heart I knew I would. Any trail that might lead to a cure for Scully was one worth following, at any price.

I knew Scully would not return to my apartment. Instead I went to our bench, my hunch proving correct. I sat beside her a long while before she spoke.

Any rainbow worth chasing?

I hope so, I answered, my hand on hers, knowing she would not ask for details. She merely nodded, and I squeezed her hand gently, causing her to look at me. How shall we explain it? I asked, a wry grin on my features, well aware as I had always been of the impossibility of any kind of romantic relationship with my partner.

She was silent a moment, though I knew she understood. She finally asked, How would you?

Well, we could say that it was simply two people badly in need of comfort.

She nodded thoughtfully, chewing absently on her lower lip. Yes, we could. She looked at me then, her eyes windows to her heart. But there's just one problem with that, Mulder.

I could barely ask, the earlier heat returning to my body, in spite of the chill of the outside temperature.

We can't be two people in need of comfort, Mulder. Because we're not two people; we're two bodies with the same soul.

I could do nothing then but pull her tightly to me, never wanting to let go. Her arms were pressed equally tight against my back, one hand finding its natural place against the back of my head, her steady breathing a comfortable rise and fall against my own. I knew then more than ever before that I could not lose her. I wouldn't.

A plan began to form in my mind, a drastic one as I had predicted, but one that was likely necessary to get the desired results. I needed to disappear, to become invisible so that I might find the truth. My earlier dark thoughts perhaps had some use after all; THEY could believe I would kill myself, perhaps that's what they had hoped. Marita hadn't detected any enthusiasm on part to investigate the bees... No one would expect it. Perhaps it was possible.

But in that cool spring night as I held Scully in my arms, I knew that we had already discovered the greatest truth of all. Now all we had to do was make the mortal aspect of it everlasting.


THE END