disclaimer: i don't own the x-files, christ carter and all his people do... no infringement intended
There were no explosions. No fireworks. No band or show of any kind. Just four simple words. And a kiss to the forehead as a way of sealing the deal. That was how I knew Mulder loved me back. That was how I knew I would never be alone again. That was how I knew that we were partners, in every sense of the word. There were so many things I could have done at that moment. I could have cried. I could have laughed. I could have exploded with happiness and relief. Instead, I lay my head on his chest and closed my eyes. Nothing further was exchanged between us that night. There wasn't anything either of us could have done to make that moment any more perfect. So we didn't try.
"Mulder… protect me," dream-me said, obviously distressed. I wasn't dressed. Only a robe over my underwear and bra. A red robe. And my hair was down. And Mulder was there, holding a candle.
"Scully, we're on assignment," dream-Mulder said. I didn't seem to care. I reached up as high as I could on my toes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. We weren't anywhere particularly familiar. A run-down motel, I could guess, from our surroundings. Then it hit me. Bellefleur. Our first case. I remembered going to Mulder after finding some marks on my back. The candle? The power had gone out. Mulder had told me that the marks weren't anything to worry about. Mosquito bites. I remembered that I was so afraid that night, though. I had never witnessed so many events that couldn't be explained. I had never been given reason to believe in anything paranormal before, but I could not doubt that something weird was going on. My job was to provide a scientific explanation to Agent Mulder's work. But the things I had seen on that case science couldn't even begin to explain. I didn't even know where to start.
But that was not what happened, though, after Mulder told me that the bumps were only mosquito bites. I had admittedly flung myself at him. The stress of the situation was starting to catch up with me. Mulder had been a complete gentleman, however, asking me if I was alright and inviting me to sit down. Then we had talked, and he told me about his sister. We never kissed, and I certainly hadn't initiated anything like that. I had never asked Mulder to protect me.
"I don't care, Mulder. I need this," dream-me said. There was lust in my voice and my pupils were dilated. Dream-Mulder set down the candle and slid the robe off my shoulders. He teased me by kissing my neck and collarbone. I ran my fingers through his hair, that being the only thing that was keeping me from ripping him apart with desire. Then, our lips met in a heated frenzy. Our tongues battled for control as we granted access to each others' mouths. Then Mulder picked me up and throw me on that cheap motel bed. We proceeded to make passionate love. As we reached our peaks, there was a flash of light, and suddenly I was somewhere else. Somewhen else, too.
A cemetery. A funeral, I guessed… everyone was in black. It wasn't just any old funeral, though, my family and friends were there. Mulder was there. I wasn't there, though. Bill picked up a shovel and threw the first scoop of dirt into an open grave. Mom and Melissa were crying, with Charlie trying to console them. Mulder's face was as hard as stone. It looked as if he couldn't feel anything. Everyone bowed their heads as the priest said a few words, then they left, even my family. Only Mulder was left, holding a single white rose. He placed it on the tombstone beside the open grave. The tombstone read, "Dana Scully, 1964-1994, beloved wife and daughter."
Another flash of light and I saw a room. An F.B.I. interrogation room. Mulder was there, looking just as emotionless as he did at my funeral. He was sitting at one side of a table, and on the other side sat Duane Barry.
"All the F.B.I. is asking is for your cooperation with our investigation. Now, you say these… beings… they take you and perform tests. Where do they take you?" Mulder asked.
"I don't know where they take me!" the sweating man yelled.
"You do know where they take you!" Mulder yelled back.
"They take me on their ship!" Duane Barry broke down.
"Why didn't they take you this time?"
"They took somebody else. They told me to bring somebody else."
"Who told you to bring somebody else?"
"The men… the men that come after they return me."
"Who are these men?" "I don't know! They wear black and they smoke cigarettes."
"Who did they tell you to take?"
"Agent Dana Mulder."
"Why did they tell you to take her?"
"They said that if I took her to them, they wouldn't take me."
"Why did you take her?"
"I didn't want to go!"
"You son of a bitch! Why did you take her? These men didn't give you a reason, they just said to take her? Why did you listen? Why didn't you think of her?"
"I didn't want to go!"
"You killed her! You let her die, you bastard! You let them take her to die! You let them kill Dana! You let them kill my wife!" Mulder screamed, beat red in the face. Duane Barry was about to say something when Mulder gun-checked him on the side of the face. Barry flew from his seat, but Mulder was relentless. He dove after him and proceeded to beat him in several ways. Then, after the man was bleeding and unconscious on the floor, Mulder put the gun to his head…
this is all a dream, obviously. scully had a dream about what would have happened if she and mulder had become a couple sooner. it's a weird concept, but i like this chapter :)
