Title: Love Soon
Author: Barenaked Bostonian
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are regrettably not mine, but John Mayer is.
Yes, actually, he helped me write this.
Category: H, MSR
Distribution: Anywhere and everywhere, just tell me first, okies?
Notes: This song rules, that's all you need to know, okay?
Dedication: To Lauren I said I'd write something for her! ;-)
Summary: You can cross the line whenever you want to, I'm calling it love soon. Close your mind or wasting time if you have to, I'm calling it love soon.
I'm just now finding that it is impossible to live my life day by day. I came to this stunning conclusion last night in the shower. It was somewhere in between the shampoo and the conditioner... I think. Strange how my photographic memory doesn't pertain to any of my thoughts... or at least these thoughts. Maybe I'm thinking too fast, maybe I should slow down...
Maybe I should stop using maybe. But that's besides the point, I keep getting side tracked.
Well, this conclusion was met after I finally accepted the fact that I am wholly unable to open Scully up, or even try. She always sees my attempts coming from a mile away and sets up a more than adequate defense before I even reach the border. Pick and chisel don't work, jackhammer has been retired. Gentle insistence went out with window with Flukeman.
It's a back and forth game we play, tossing the question around, but not answering. The question is always there, but neither of us has the courage to face it outright. How funny that seems when we face death every day, face monsters, face Skinner but it's overwhelmingly hard to face each other.
Did she really expect to get away with kissing me one time? One amazing time, I'll admit, but not one time. I saw the look in her eyes just before they slipped closed. I know what she looks like in love, aroused, happy, totally relaxed.
Now, when she looks at me, she tries desperately to hide it. Not just the love, but everything. But I can see all those things in plain sight. They're always there now, not like before. Before, before, before...
But my mind isn't working correctly at the moment, too many thoughts firing off too fast. I barely have time to catalogue any of these feelings before they rush screaming off into the depths of my subconscious.
So Scully, Scully, Scully. I think anyone can simply look at me looking at her and see it. I am up to my shoulders in love, over my head, swimming. I'm in love with someone who I've never touched intimately, never taken out to dinner. Someone who is wholly deserving of all my attention, not just the small scraps I give. Deserving of the world and everything infinitely good that is in it. God, I'm frigging waxing poetic.
Someone who could care less what I feel, or think. Wait, no, that's wrong. Who could care less what anyone thinks about her. Ahhh, but I love that about her too. She is just so... Scully. She's... comfortable. Very comfortable. She's broken in, in a good way. She already knows everything about me. She knows more about myself than I do.
But she of course, closes off to me, closes her mind, closes her heart. That's fine, that's perfectly fine. Close your mind Scully, you're just wasting time, I'll break you down eventually. There's no one else for me, not one person on this planet who could ever do to me what you do to me.
But then again, it is up to you? Isn't it? I can't be the aggressor in this situation, it would scare you away (even though nothing scares you). I wouldn't want to do anything to upset the fragile balance we maintain, so, cheers, it's up to you. In your hands. You can cross the line whenever you want to, hopefully sooner rather than later.
I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Can I send any more signs? I mean, I'm obviously not the only one who sees it. Your mother sees it Scully! Come on now... you're MO-THER! She's always talking about how we should be together. I always see it, when we're together... like last month at the Christmas party. I saw you blush as her eyes darted quickly to mine, then back to you, a barely concealed smile on her face. She was talking about us, I know. I know you know I know. And I like it.
Talking to myself, wishing it were her. pathetic.
See what I'm doing? Can't keep my thoughts together, not on one track...
It seems that all of my thoughts contradict all the others. This isn't about me though, this is about her. Her... her her her her her. I'm obsessed, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I have a headache, but not a bad headache per say, but one of those headaches that you get after you've spent a good twelve hours studying for your western civ midterm and you know you know you know everything. That's the way I feel. A bit liberated, a bit restricted, confused and happy. Ecstatic almost. Don't know why, just do.
So she sends me these signals, I think. Anyway, these signals come pretty late in the game. They always come just when I'm about to finally crack the iron eggshell she lives in. Right when I have the goddamned jackhammer all ready, the game ends, some strange kung fu maneuver (or kung fu-like...because as we all know, it's always kung fu...) ends the game. Thanks for playing, try again. And again and again. And I will, believe me. I've always been a man of passion but this passion exceeds the past ones.
How many passions? How many causes that look useless compared to her? Speaking, thinking rather, of comparisons, I think I sound...think...sound... like a love sick school boy. Ah, the things Scully can do to me.
My Scully.
My Dana. All mine, but not mine, I wish she was mine. I wish, wish, wishwishwishwishwishwish. But I'm never going to be that lucky. Or maybe I am, maybe I am. How I look forward to that day. Anyway...
Anyway, anyway. Everyway.
Author: Barenaked Bostonian
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are regrettably not mine, but John Mayer is.
Yes, actually, he helped me write this.
Category: H, MSR
Distribution: Anywhere and everywhere, just tell me first, okies?
Notes: This song rules, that's all you need to know, okay?
Dedication: To Lauren I said I'd write something for her! ;-)
Summary: You can cross the line whenever you want to, I'm calling it love soon. Close your mind or wasting time if you have to, I'm calling it love soon.
I'm just now finding that it is impossible to live my life day by day. I came to this stunning conclusion last night in the shower. It was somewhere in between the shampoo and the conditioner... I think. Strange how my photographic memory doesn't pertain to any of my thoughts... or at least these thoughts. Maybe I'm thinking too fast, maybe I should slow down...
Maybe I should stop using maybe. But that's besides the point, I keep getting side tracked.
Well, this conclusion was met after I finally accepted the fact that I am wholly unable to open Scully up, or even try. She always sees my attempts coming from a mile away and sets up a more than adequate defense before I even reach the border. Pick and chisel don't work, jackhammer has been retired. Gentle insistence went out with window with Flukeman.
It's a back and forth game we play, tossing the question around, but not answering. The question is always there, but neither of us has the courage to face it outright. How funny that seems when we face death every day, face monsters, face Skinner but it's overwhelmingly hard to face each other.
Did she really expect to get away with kissing me one time? One amazing time, I'll admit, but not one time. I saw the look in her eyes just before they slipped closed. I know what she looks like in love, aroused, happy, totally relaxed.
Now, when she looks at me, she tries desperately to hide it. Not just the love, but everything. But I can see all those things in plain sight. They're always there now, not like before. Before, before, before...
But my mind isn't working correctly at the moment, too many thoughts firing off too fast. I barely have time to catalogue any of these feelings before they rush screaming off into the depths of my subconscious.
So Scully, Scully, Scully. I think anyone can simply look at me looking at her and see it. I am up to my shoulders in love, over my head, swimming. I'm in love with someone who I've never touched intimately, never taken out to dinner. Someone who is wholly deserving of all my attention, not just the small scraps I give. Deserving of the world and everything infinitely good that is in it. God, I'm frigging waxing poetic.
Someone who could care less what I feel, or think. Wait, no, that's wrong. Who could care less what anyone thinks about her. Ahhh, but I love that about her too. She is just so... Scully. She's... comfortable. Very comfortable. She's broken in, in a good way. She already knows everything about me. She knows more about myself than I do.
But she of course, closes off to me, closes her mind, closes her heart. That's fine, that's perfectly fine. Close your mind Scully, you're just wasting time, I'll break you down eventually. There's no one else for me, not one person on this planet who could ever do to me what you do to me.
But then again, it is up to you? Isn't it? I can't be the aggressor in this situation, it would scare you away (even though nothing scares you). I wouldn't want to do anything to upset the fragile balance we maintain, so, cheers, it's up to you. In your hands. You can cross the line whenever you want to, hopefully sooner rather than later.
I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Can I send any more signs? I mean, I'm obviously not the only one who sees it. Your mother sees it Scully! Come on now... you're MO-THER! She's always talking about how we should be together. I always see it, when we're together... like last month at the Christmas party. I saw you blush as her eyes darted quickly to mine, then back to you, a barely concealed smile on her face. She was talking about us, I know. I know you know I know. And I like it.
Talking to myself, wishing it were her. pathetic.
See what I'm doing? Can't keep my thoughts together, not on one track...
It seems that all of my thoughts contradict all the others. This isn't about me though, this is about her. Her... her her her her her. I'm obsessed, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with me? I have a headache, but not a bad headache per say, but one of those headaches that you get after you've spent a good twelve hours studying for your western civ midterm and you know you know you know everything. That's the way I feel. A bit liberated, a bit restricted, confused and happy. Ecstatic almost. Don't know why, just do.
So she sends me these signals, I think. Anyway, these signals come pretty late in the game. They always come just when I'm about to finally crack the iron eggshell she lives in. Right when I have the goddamned jackhammer all ready, the game ends, some strange kung fu maneuver (or kung fu-like...because as we all know, it's always kung fu...) ends the game. Thanks for playing, try again. And again and again. And I will, believe me. I've always been a man of passion but this passion exceeds the past ones.
How many passions? How many causes that look useless compared to her? Speaking, thinking rather, of comparisons, I think I sound...think...sound... like a love sick school boy. Ah, the things Scully can do to me.
My Scully.
My Dana. All mine, but not mine, I wish she was mine. I wish, wish, wishwishwishwishwishwish. But I'm never going to be that lucky. Or maybe I am, maybe I am. How I look forward to that day. Anyway...
Anyway, anyway. Everyway.