A/N: Somebody wrote 'more', so that's what I'm giving ;) Last chapter for now though. Since I never had a storyline planned for this story and never was able to come up with one, this is probably the end of the road. It's written so it can match a last chapter anyway, but if inspiration should strike, even though I strongly doubt it, I'm not closed of to re-opening it though. That's no promise.
I've tried to get back to earth a bit with this chapter, make some reflections. I'm not sure whether Scully would actually have to level of self-awareness when it comes to the issue of William that I'm giving her, but I wanted to comment a bit on it, since the other chapters feels too fluffy when it regards him. Let's not completely ignore the angsty feels going on in canon-world. There's also some comments/observations on the change within Scully that I feel is taking place through the seasons.
"I like your mom." Monica informs me while I'm driving. She's looking off into the passing landscape, toying with her hands absentmindedly, occasionally nibbling at the side of her nails. A nervous tick that she has stopped paying attention to many years ago. "She seems very nice." She continued, still in her own mind. I smile lightly, pleased.
"I think she likes you too." I say, placing a hand on her thigh, squeezing it lovingly.
"It was nice to hear some stories about you and your family." She says, still lost in her own train of thoughts as I'm concentrating on the road in front of us, looking back to a sleeping William every once in a while. "I suddenly realized how little I actually know about you and your history." Turning my head, I look at her with intrigue, raising my eyebrow, willing her to go on. She looks over at me, a mixture of seriousness and a lazy calmness on her face. It's clear that while she's curious it's not in any way in a judgmental way. "You're just a very private person." She concludes. "It's hard to imagine the tough and sexy Agent Scully, medical doctor and defender of the truth as a small tomboyish kid playing around with her brothers, climbing trees and getting bruised knees, laughing and running around like any other happy child. It's a whole new side of you that I've never seen before."
She stops there, studying my face. Suddenly I feel myself blushing. Normally I don't care what people think about me, but Monica isn't just anybody. I suddenly find myself at a loss of words, a thing that I'm not very familiar with. I know that I can come off as rather cold sometimes, and there's a reason for that. If I have to be honest, I don't like letting people in because I don't like the fact that it gives them the opportunity to let me down. I have had to fight a lot to get where I am and I've had to dignify myself more than once. You very quickly learn that if you want to get anywhere professionally, both as a woman in a male-dominated field and as a person with feelings in a rather gruesome field, you have to leave your own person at home. And the older I've gotten, the worse I think I've gotten at it. Most of my humor have slowly drained out of me after Mulder's abduction took place. It's refreshing to feel it returning a bit with Monica by my side.
"Yeah?" I say, returning to my current conversation.
"It's nice. I like getting to know you more. Unravelling the mysteries of Dana Scully." She smirks at me as I chuckle, playfully hitting her on the thigh before she gets the chance to pull it away from me. She laughs. It sounds like music to my ears.
I end up dropping her off on the way to my apartment. We discussed it for a small bit in the car and decided that it would be for the best. While I would love nothing more than to get to spend more time with her, she hasn't been at her own home since yesterday, and both of us really want to take it slow. We've still both been through a lot lately, with her moving and having been assigned to the X-Files, still trying to fall into place, and me with everything that's happened with Mulder and William. We just want to make sure that we're not jumping too fast into too much and at the same time we want to take our time to get to know each other better and build a strong foundation for a possible future together. As a scientist, it's what makes most logical sense and I'm glad that we're on the same page about this. So I kiss her, rather passionately, goodbye in the car and take my leave with William. I'm smiling the whole way home.
Even if the weekend seems to go by too slowly for my liking, me and Monica writing each other every day, Monday is suddenly here and I get to see her again at work. I still have an autopsy to make, and even though I can see how much she dislikes watching it, she stays in the corner for some time, so she can be with me. I tease her about it when we're alone in the office of the morgue. I invite her over for dinner Tuesday evening and she accepts. We talk mainly about the case though, going back and forward on different theories based on my findings. It amazes me how open minded she is about all these abnormal theories and cases. She really is perfect for this job, Doggett made a great call on her. It's also nice to see that we have returned to our normal working relationship as if nothing has happened this weekend. That both of us are able to remain professional with each other. It was something that I had feared. The last thing I wanted to do was to have to reevaluate my working situation because I kissed my coworker. While I am indeed falling for her, I still haven't known her for that much time and she could still pull some sort of unexpected move without me being able to do much about it. I'm just happy that she's proving all of my fears and worries wrong.
When I hear a knock on the door Tuesday evening, I'm just putting a finishing touch on the candlelit dinner I've cocked for us. Fish, potatoes and cooked vegetables accompanied by a good white wine. William will be spending the night at my mother's house again. I'm not sure how happy I am with him spending so much time over there instead of with me, but just for this evening, I think he should be fine. I want Monica and I to be able to be a bit alone together before I bring William too much into it. Anyway, it isn't like she's coming over every night, so we should be fine. It's just for this one date. Our first date, technically.
When I open my door, I'm greeted by the sight of red roses held out to me. Taking the outstretched bouquet, I bring them to my nose and close my eyes, taking in the scent.
"Thank you, Monica. They're absolutely beautiful." I say with a smile, looking at them.
"You're absolutely beautiful." I hear her reply in a serious tone. Lifting my now blushing head, I realize that I haven't actually taken my time to properly look at her. She has put on a black dress with a semi-deep V-neck ending in two small straps reaching over her shoulder. At the bottom, it reaches to just under her knees, where her long smooth legs end in black heels. Well, the heel isn't really all that big, probably because she knows I'm smaller than her, but it gives it a nice finish. She looks absolutely stunning, the dress hugging all her curves perfectly. I don't think I've ever seen her look so beautiful before. And to know that she went through all of this trouble to look good for me brings butterflies to my stomach and a smile to my face. I suddenly feel slightly undressed in my black pencil skirt and silky white button-up shirt. All thoughts leave my head though, as Monica leans forward and down, effectively capturing my lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. When she pulls away, she rests her head close to mine, our noses almost touching, while she runs the back of her fingers over my cheek.
"I've been waiting to do that since Saturday." She says in a smile, before I place a firm hand around her neck and pull her in for a second short but not so gentle kiss. I step back afterwards, welcoming her into my apartment.
"Why don't you sit down and I'll put these roses in some water?" I say, moving into the kitchen. Most of my apartment is coated in the darkness by now; the only thing brining light being the candles I placed around and one or two table lamps.
"This is beautiful, Dana. You didn't need to do all this." Monica states as she looks around at the decorated table, the meal, the candles. I must admit I had put in a bit of effort to create a good scenery for us. She's worth it.
"I wanted to." I reply, turning on the faucet to give the roses some water in their new vase.
"I feel lucky." She says with a bright smile, moving over to me. When she's right behind me she runs her hands over my forearms and lean down to kiss my shoulder. "It's extremely romantic, you know?" her voice is more suggestive now. Deciding not to let her win so fast, I gently turn around so my lips are hovering closely to her ear.
"Who said I can't be romantic? I guess you just have to wait and find out how lucky you can get if you behave nicely." I gently nibble her earlobe to show my point before I move away with the flowers to find a home for them on my kitchen table. I know I'm teasing but I can't help myself, and hearing her flustered laugh of slight disbelief only makes my mischievous smile grow even more. I hear her clear her throat.
"Is that so?" she says, reaching out for me, but I swat her hand playfully away before she can touch me.
"Yes. It is." I say matter-of-factly a smirk still on my lips. "Now come to the table. I've spend a lot of time cooking this meal."
She compliments my cooking as we begin eating. I might not be a chef, but do in fact know my way around a kitchen. Enough so that I can get by anyway. It was always Melissa who was the good one in the kitchen though. She liked to help our mother in the kitchen from time to time while I went out to play with my brothers. But whenever we had any functions or guests I always had to help out in the kitchen. I was raised that it was just a natural part of being a woman. It wasn't something that I ever really questioned. So I learned the basics pretty quickly. That being said I must admit that I still had to call my mom and ask her about a few things in the recipe for tonight, since it was one she had given me some time ago.
We eat, talk and laugh. We flirt shamelessly, both of us helping to build a tension between us. It's like a game. Every move and touch seems to be tailored just for each other. Her drifting eyes, greedily taking me in, her hand tracing lines on the edge of her dress, drawing attention to her cleavage. Even her finger tracing down the side of her wine glass and around the rim seems erotic. My foot reaching out and running up the inside of her leg, always stopping close her knee but never actually reaching it. And just as tension gets higher, she says something funny and we laugh, willing let the tension fall but never forgetting it or leaving it completely behind.
I like it. The flirting, the laughing, the closeness and the calm. I never realized just how much. I've been so caught up in conspiracies and the chase of the truth, whatever that may be, that I've forgotten what it feels like to be able to sit back and enjoy life and being with somebody. I used to do it more often. I tried to make it a priority to take a bit of time away from work every once in a while, but that seems like such a long time ago. After Mulder was abducted, it felt like that part of me disappeared along with him. Like the ability to smile and laugh went out of the window and got replaced with a stoic, self-controlled and cold person. I never really allowed anyone to get close, to be there for me. This obsession to try and seek out some sort of truth that would explain everything has brought me to a place where I sometimes can't even look at my own son without questioning his entire existence. It's heartbreaking when I catch myself looking at him almost like he's the alien. Like he holds the answer to everything. It's even more heartbreaking when I catch myself thinking exactly that. Like he's some sort of object to be studied and controlled. Like he's not even mine. I love him so very dearly and sometimes I get scared that I have allowed myself to live so much in my own conspiracy-ridden head that I can't even get to love him in the way I want to. In the way he deserves. And I know Mulder would have never wanted this for me, never sought it out for me, and I don't blame him. But I can't help but feel like I've been left high and dry since his disappearance. Left with too many thought, suspicions and conspiracies, yet with no one to turn to and no place to go with it. Even if I know it's for his own best, I haven't been able to stop myself from feeling abandoned by him. I feel like it has hardened me. And I don't think I've realized just how much. I had laughed earlier this evening at one of Monica's jokes, high on the wine and the company. When I stopped, she had looked at me and smiled.
"I like this." She said, taking my hand in hers. "I don't think I've ever seen you so relaxed before. It really suits you. I like this side of you." She said, smiling honestly.
It was strange, hearing her say that. On one hand, I felt happy. Blessed to have her here with me and happy that she was enjoying this as much as I was. On the other hand, I almost felt sad, hit by the impact of her words. She hadn't seen me like this because I hadn't allowed myself to be like this since before we met. To know that she never got to know me when I was at my best and only met me when I was at my worst was almost heartbreaking. I want to get that old flame back, that sense of the person I used to be, the one who while being a serious and scientific person still had a wild strike hidden somewhere in her. Wasn't scared to relax and do nothing for the day, try to get away, get out. Have a life outside of work. I want that back. I mean, that's one of the reason I have a teaching job now. So I would finally be able to have time to spend as I wanted. And that includes being with William. Now it also includes being with Monica. With her, I finally feel like I'm able to return to a glimmer of that old person I thought I had lost. She makes me want to work with myself and want to change for the better, with her in my hand.
So we talk and we laugh and we flirt. And I kiss her. Just as softly as our first kiss, enjoying her lips moving slowly and perfectly against mine, her arms calmly and securely around my body. Her kiss seems to somehow wake me up, bring me butterflies, fireworks, makes my head feel lighter. I never thought the simple kiss and touch of another person could turn me on so completely. Could bring me back to life. Kissing her feels like finally coming home. And suddenly I have no doubt that everything is going to be alright in the end, as long as I can keep her by my side.
A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this story! All and any feedback/ideas/thought are encouraged, and thank you for reading!