Author's Note: I'm open to
suggestions of where to go from here. It started out pretty easy, but… Anyway,
any kind of feedback you can give me would be deeply appreciated. Some people
have commented on the fact that I refer to Mulder as he & I, and I promise
it will make sense later, just be patient… And as for how Mulder has changed,
that's coming too, I'm just building… THANX!! Bye!
I See You PART III
He
looks at me carefully, examining me closely before extending his hand. I take
his very soft, almost female hand in mine and shake it firmly. He doubts my
presence and looks from me to you and then back again. I watch him closely, and
you too, and he begins to edge away from you, noticing my scrutiny.
"Nice
to meet you, Agent Doggett. What brings you here?"
At
this you duck your head and blush slightly. You called him. Told him that I had
returned. Under low eyelids, his eyes slide over to you, questioning whether he
was supposed to lie to me. Your eyes flicker to my face, knowing I would know
if he lied, and then you glance at him briefly and nod. With your consent, he
says, "Agent Scully called me this morning to let me know that you had
resurfaced."
"Well,
here I am."
"Mulder,
I called him because he was in charge of the search. If we had been searching
for anyone else, I would have done the same."
"Skinner
had already called to inform me that you were back, but she didn't know
that."
I
watch as his hand casually touches her shoulder. The tips of his fingers caress
the once starched white cotton blouse, feeling the warmth from your skin. The
movement was nearly imperceptible. But there was a slight shadow the faded and
darkened with his movements and my eyes zeroed in the on the minute motion.
"It's
okay, Scully, I'm not angry. I just didn't think that anyone'd come over quite
this early for questions. I guess I just figured I could get a little more time
before…"
He
steps towards me now, his hands sweeping down your arm with a singing rustle
across your sleeve. In two quick strides he reaches the table, now standing
nearly toe to toe with me.
"I
didn't come here to question you, Agent Mulder. Assistant Director Skinner told
me that you remember next to nothing about what happened to you. I have no
intention of pumping you for information that you don't have."
His
voice is very tense and matter of fact, making sure to punctuate the end of
each of his sentences. It was like he was taking some speech-giving classes
literally. Each line was confident and unwavering. His cold blue eyes stared
strait into my own, quivering only slightly from his effort. He remembers how I
was described as a paranoid man. He wants me to trust him.
Not
retreating an inch, I reply, "Then why did you come, Agent Doggett?"
But I did not look him in the eye. Instead I was looking past him at you,
leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen. You eyes were pleading
helplessly with the back of his head as you one of your hands unconsciously
caressed the child within you.
"I
came here because Agent Scully…"
"I
asked him to come here, Mulder. I wanted my mom or Skinner or one of the Gunmen
to come, but they were all unavailable. I just needed someone, Mulder. To
reaffirm that this wasn't a dream. That I wasn't hallucinating."
I
had been watching him as you spoke, as he nervously shifted, then turned around
to face you, leaving me to look at his strait, well-postured back. Just as you
finished speaking I shifted my eyes to you in time to see your eyes scurry back
over to me from him. You had been watching him very closely as you spoke to me.
"It's
all right, Scully. Agent Doggett, would you like to join us for breakfast?
We're having granola fruit something cereal."
"No,
no thank you. I've already eaten."
Sitting
down, I realize that I don't have a spoon, and am about to get up to get one
when I realize there is one waving right in front of me.
"Thanks,
Scully."
"No
problem."
You
sit down next to me and begin to eat your cereal. He is just standing there
watching the two of us eating. I take my first bite and almost immediately spit
it back into my bowl.
"UUUCchh!!
What is this stuff, Scully? Cardboard?"
"Mulder,
just because it doesn't have tons of sugar or a prize in the box…"
I've
gotten up to retrieve the sugar from where I left it and your voice trails off
as you take a bite of yours. You watch me, laughing slightly as I take the
measuring cup that you keep in the container and fill it to the brim and then
some, and procceed to dump the entire 1 cup plus some in my bowl of cereal.
"Mulder,
that's digusting. Only a two year old--"
"Ain't
my fault all you have is this healthy stuff."
Confidently,
with a great big smile on my face, I take a big spoonful of the stuff after
stirring it around. I raise it towards her like a toast and then quickly put in
my mouth before it can drip on the table. It's horrid and sugary, but I smile
and quickly chew up the offensive cereal.
He
is watching us with a great deal of curiosity, but has not yet sat down at the
table with us. You have been shoveling your cereal in your mouth as fast as you
can, and I am about to crack on your appetite when you look up and realize he
is still standing there.
You
pause from your feeding frenzy, dripping milk from the corners of your mouth,
empty spoon raised in your hand, to say, "Sit down, Jo- Agent Doggett. Do
you want some coffee? Tea?…Orange juice?"
A
look of relief passes over his features and he pulls out the chair that is next
to hers at the small square table. It squeaks as he pulls it out and he cringes
slightly. You jump back from the table. He settles into the creaking chair,
directly across from me and watches as the two of us eat. He leans back ever so
slightly. It takes very little adjusting for him to pick this position before
he stretches his arms out to rest on the table. Unlike myself, he sits very
still and quietly, not fidgeting or playing with the objects on the table. He appears
comfortable and familiar with the space, as he doesn't look around at the
cabinets or any of the small decorative nic-nacks that sit around on the
counters.
"Oh,
Mulder, I forgot to get us more orange juice."
To
our surprise, he rises from the table and states, "I'll get it for you.
You just eat your breakfast." You look at me questioningly and I return
the look. "Where do you keep your cups, Agent Scully?"
Straining
slightly, you twist your trunk around to look and point to the cupboard, and
then groan slightly as you turn to face the table once more. Spooning some
dripping cereal into my mouth, I watch him behind you, retrieving the orange
juice from the refrigerator. But your blue eyes distract me from me paranoia
and I find myself watch as your appetite suddenly slows, and you are being much
more careful with your food, carefully chewing, a thin layer of creamy white
still touching your lips.
His
arm passes in front of my face and I jump slightly. I hadn't noticed that he
had finished pouring the orange juice and was setting a glass next to me. I
didn't allow myself to be distracted as he brings you your glass and bends down
to whisper something in your ear. Nodding gratefully, you grin up at him.
"I
will see you two, later. Take your time. I don't mind and I'm sure the
Assistant Director won't mind either if you would like to wait until tomorrow.
Whenever you're ready."
"See
you later, Agent."
"Bye."
You
don't rise to show him to the door. Rather you take a long drink of your orange
juice once he'd said his parting words, closing your eyes.
Once
the door has closed and the silence has returned, you tilt your face back to
drink from the blue glass. Your face is hidden, both by the angle and the cup,
and your smooth-skinnned throat is exposed. I watch the bobbing of the tendons become highly defined, stretched and exposed. After you slurp out the last of
the liquid from the glass, you let out a quiet, female sigh that you would
normally hide from me, and then gently place the translucent plastic cup on the table. Your eyes, darkly shadowed
and bagged, are still closed, soft lashes resting gently against the top of
your cheeks, and I watch as they flutter open. Your body hasn't caught up with
the relieft that has released your emotions. It's been a very long time since
you slept well, there is a lot to make up. You allow yourself a moment to drift as you stare absently at a
wall, soaking in the moment. Drawing in a warm, humming breath, you bring your
eyes back into focus to smile at me
beffore silently rising and
disappearing to your bedroom.
I
lean back in the chair and it creaks slightly in protest. The kitchen and the entire house smell of
you and your soap and your waterless hand-sanitizer. But there is still the
lingering scent of something left to fester and the non-bleach disinfectant and
cleaner that you used to eliminate it. The light padding of your feet and your
movements from the room cause me to strain to listen closer, imagining you,
opening drawers and cupboards,
undressing and redressing before your
mirror, brushing down your hair hastily with your finger, smudging at your
face, warming and smoothing the blankness and the lines from your skin.
I
remember standing in your bedroom, back in your apartment, in the shadows,
waiting for you to return. You were the only one I could trust, the only one
who could help me find the truth I was looking for at the moment. You were so tired that you left the lights out and
I watched you enter, highlighted in silver moonlight, your hair a dark
shimmering crimson. You hands had begun
to unbutton your blouse just as I stepped into the stream of night-light with you. Immediately you jump to the side,
leaping towards the table where you had set down your gun. In
the quick movement your breaths had grown labored and quick, but dragged
downward to normal as recognition set in. Little sighhs caught in your breath
asyou asked me what I was doing. As I
explained, you walkeed over and flipped on a lighht. Once again you were
normal, bathed in yellow-white ligghht, colored in cream and corals and pinks
and muted woolen suits. Not blacks shadows and blue-silver highlights.
I
hear the door click as you come back out, towards the kitchen. Seeing that my cereal still sits on the table,
still half full you smile at me and
ask, "Let me guess, you added too much sugar."
"Yeah,
your cereal's way to sweet for me, Scully. How do you eat this junk, Scully?"
"You
know you were the one wh… Never mind. Just put the bowl in the sink, Mulder."
You
pick up your bowl and cup and place them gently in the sink. When I don't move, you return to the table and
scowl at me. "Don't tell me I have to
take it to the sink for you too."
"Nah,
I'll do it. Just give me second." I take a quick gulp of the orange juice and then take the cup and bowl to the
sink, letting them drop in noisily, before returning to the table.
"We
have to go in today, Mulder." You are right behind me now, resting your hands
on my shoulders, just resting. Reaching up, I take one of your hands and caress
the soft skin on the back, admiring your nicely manicured and clean nails.
Again I can smell that hand-sanitizer, and the curve of you stomach is rubbing
against the back of my head whenever you inhale. I lean back into you and close
my eyes, feeling the warmth of you body
near me. "Really. It can't be avoided. Skinner—"
"I
know."
"When
would you like to go? Do you need a little more time?"
"Let's
get it over with, Scully."
"We'll…
We'll stop by your place so you can change."
"Why,
what's wrong with this, Scully?"
"Nothing
except you slept in it. And I'm not quick sure what some of these stains
are…"
"Skinner
won't care."
"I
do. Now, go find your shoes. Did you drive here?"
"No,
Skinner brought me. Figured I wasn't coherent enough for driving."
"Come
on, Mulder, time to go."
I
rose, expecting that we'd be heading right out the door. You wanted to go in earlier. Maybe even wanted
Doggett to get it over with. This was all so awkward. You had no way to control
it. No way to deal with it effectively and efficiently. You could only react:
Do things as you could. None of it made any sense until it was over, and even
then sometimes it was unclear and you
didn't know if you'd just dreamed it
all. It was scientific, or religious, or spiritual, or anything but
unpredictable. There was nothing to do but react.
Over
the years, you had gotten used to that.
But you still didn't like it, still wanted thing to follow the rules, to be
easily analyzed and catagorized, to fit
perfectly into a preset formula for how to solve it and get out. You wanted to
be able to detect the undetectable, proof of the unproovable, to explain the unexplainable, to predict the
unthinkable.
This
made you nervous and uneasy, jumpy. It put you out of sorts, and forced you to
question every routine and meaningless ritual that you performed everyday. What
could you have changed to have made this come out the way you wanted it to? How
could you have prevented this? How could you prove this? Whhat could you have
done to know, to prepare, for what was really going to
happen, not just what happened in the best and worst of your dreams?
I
had risen, but you had gone into the living room, and instead of going for the
front door, you collapsed on the couch with a heavy hmmmmph. Exhausted. I approach the back of your head, you red hair
fanned out on the pillow, glistening in the light. Coming past you, I sit down, next to your body. You are
sprawled out into the corner, extending your arms out on the back and side of
the couch, your head tilted back, causing your swollen stomach to protrude slightly further. Leaning forward, I try to see if your eyes
are closed, but your face is angled too
far back to see.
"Is
anything wrong, Scully?"
"I'm
fine, Mulder. Just a little tired."
I'm
fine. I'm fine. Every time you worried you whispered those words, hoping
that it would turn off the switch inside me that wanted to kill anything and everything that caused you even the slightest
discomfort. I reach up and take one of your hands from the back of the couch
and lean toward you slightly and kiss your finger tips.
"Come
on, Scully. I know it's more than that. There's something you're not telling
me."
"No,
really. I'm just so tired, Mulder. Carrying around an extra thirty pounds on your stomach is enough to wear anyone
out."
"Talk
to me, Scully."
With
a deep, heavy sigh you pull yourself upright, refusing the hand I offer to help
her. You stare downward, allowing me to see only the thin, veined skin of your
eyelids and your lashes. Gently I reach
out and push the hair by the side of your face behind your ear, then guide your
head upward until you are looking at
me, or at least your face is. The blue in your eyes flickers over the room, skipping over me quicker than the rest.
"God,
I missed you Scully."
A
wry smile spreads on your lips and you wonder a little. You wonder if perhaps
now is the time to tell me. It seemed right. An appropriate response. There was
much to confess. Much to say, many apologies and thank yous. So much. You try
to look away but my hand stops you and
again you are staring at me. Something in you lets go and you gently lean into
my hand, rubbing at it like a cat before scooching closer to me, until our
thighs are lined up, pressed tightly
together, hip to hip, knee to knee. You soft, familiar and strong fingers trail
up my arm, and then wander over my shoulders until you are hugging me close.
Returning the gesture, I hug your
shoulders as you begin to cry. My other hand reaches up and turns your face until we are staring at each
other, faces only inches apart. I can see the smooth creamy skin of you face.
The pale areas near your eyes and under your nose and below your lips and under
your nose. The little lines at the corners of your eyes and lips. The little strands of disobedient strands of hair that
stick to your cheeks and tickle your
chin.
You
are near enough that the vibrations of your heart pass through the space and reverberate
in my chest. I jump slightly as your body spasms as you begin to sob. Hot and
sticky, your breath is on my face. I draw you closer, hugging you until we are
as close as our positions permit. You stomach to mine, cheek to cheek, entwined
in one another's arms.
"I'm so sorry, Mulder, I didn't mean to…"
"It's
okay, Scully. Shhh. It's all right…"
"Mulder,
the baby's yours."
END PART III
***********Want to know more? I'll
probably post again sometime within the next two or three days. I know I haven't lived up to the summary, but hey, I did
say there would be chapters, so just wait. It'll come. But this is definitely a
Shipper fic, just in case your wondering.
