All Necessary info in part 1
"Say Anything"
Part 2: Reyes
My flight leaves tomorrow and I'll be back in New Orleans where I belong. It's not only where I work, it's home. Except lately there's been something nagging at the back of my head-besides that big old knot where the oxygen tank hit me-telling me there might be something else here for me. And that feeling has left me with no desire to leave just yet. I've never taken my premonitions for granted, and whatever the outcome, they've never let me down, despite what John thinks.
He thinks I misinterpreted what was happening on this last case-and what happened to his son. Even now, after it was all over-after he saved my life-he insists that there was no connection, between me and him or the phenomena which brought us together through the death of his son. I can't help but think there was-and may still be. Something is definitely at work here-behind the scenes-pulling us together, bringing us here to this place. By us I mean John, myself, Dana Scully... and...
His face springs into my mind like a jack-in-the-box coming out of hiding. He tells me that there's an opening in the X-Files I might be good for. Something in his voice triggers something deep inside me. A need to know this man, to work with him more closely. I can sense the anger and bitter resentment that lingers behind his flippant remark. He tries to hide it, tries to hide behind Agent Scully's frail condition, but I can see through the mask. "I hope your friend gets better. Then there will be at least one person down here with an open mind."
Even now, I can't believe I said those words to him-to a man who had just literally returned from the dead. Nor can I believe the response my words earned me. The smile... so big and genuine, hinting at flirtatious as he asked me if I would say anything. Anything I believe in, I told him, and again I was rewarded with that smile. A woman could lose herself in that smile.
Fox Mulder... is he what connects the four of us? Sometimes I wonder about that. Everything leads me back to him. Scully was his partner for seven years. He disappears, and John is called in to look for him. Then John calls on me to help him. All to find Agent Fox Mulder. You see how it all keeps coming back to him-back to this man whose smiling face so enthralls me?
You couldn't have live in New Orleans for as long as I have and not believe in some sort of magic. I'm here to tell you that this man has some sort of voodoo in him, and whatever it is, it draws people to him, or it draws me, at least. I can't deny the magic of his smile and the twinkle in his eyes, so like stars or glittering crystal shards. Working with him these past couple of days has been an experience I shall never forget-one I never want to forget, ever. He listens to me, hears what I say. So unlike John. Don't get me wrong, I like John Doggett very much. We became close friends after the death of his son, but nothing about him makes me feel the way the slightest glance from Mulder does. Nothing makes feel so... alive... as that smile.
Fox Mulder... Just the thought of the man brings him like a spectre to my mind. There he is now, in the doorway, entering this shabby hotel barroom.... walking towards me.
"Is this seat taken?" the spectre asks, and it takes me a few minutes to realize that he's real, not a figment of my mind. I nod, and he sits. I'm speechless for a moment, and in my silence, he orders us both a round of "whatever the lady's having" which turns out to be rum and Coke. I finish the nearly empty glass in my hand before accepting the refill. We both seem unsure of what to say. So instead of talking, we just finish our drinks in a silence that is not awkward, but surprisingly comfortable.
The area around us at the bar is starting to fill up and I look around. Finding an empty booth in the back, secluded enough for two people looking to escape into the moment, I ask if he would like a little more privacy. He looks at me and grins.
"I thought you'd never ask." The words are warm and jovial, and I find I cannot move, having briefly melted into my stool. All I can think is no man has ever affected me this way before and probably never will.
We make our way to the corner booth and sit down facing each other. After the waitress brings another round of drinks-my third and Mulder's second-I work up the confidence to ask him how he knew where to find me.
To my surprise, he blushes and looks down at the table in embarrassment. "Actually... I, uh... called your friend, Agent Doggett."
"You called John?!" I can hardly believe what I'm hearing and it shows in my voice. "And he told you where I was... just like that?"
Mulder looks up, an even more flustered look on his face than before. "Well... actually it wasn't as easy as you think." I never said I thought it was easy at all. John practically loathes this man for reasons I'm sure I'll never fully understand. "He, uh... he gave me the third degree." Mulder laughs, a little strained but charming nonetheless.
"Why would he do a thing like that?" I ask, smiling along with him.
"You probably won't believe this, but he wanted to know what my intentions were."
"You intentions? Towards me?" Even as I ask the question, things become clear in my mind. John doesn't trust this man, and I'm sure I know why. Agent Scully... and her baby. It's no secret that most the people at the Bureau think that her baby is Mulder's. John says that even AD Skinner believes the two agents have been lovers. John's trying to protect me.
"Yeah," he replies with a sexy chuckle. "Silly, isn't it?"
"Silly," I echo, laughing with him momentarily. Then I drop the bomb on him. "So... what exactly *are * your intentions, Agent Mulder?" I ask as formally as I can while still wanting him to rock my world. I can't help it, I realize too late. I'm addicted to this man.
He laughs, and it is an amused laughter tinged with a sultry heat. "Actually, I thought I'd just get to know you, *Agent Reyes*, " he says. "I have a feeling we have a lot more in common than just the FBI."
As he says it, he leans in on his elbows, which brings his face closer to mine. Dangerously close. I open my mouth to respond, but his index finger flicks out, shushing me with a gentle touch on the lips.
"Shhh..." he whispers, his voice deep and masculine and his breath warm on my cheek as his face closes the ever shrinking gap between us. "Shhh... don't say anything."
(continued in 3)