Title: In the Night
Author: Gillian Leigh
Disclaimer: The X-Files and its characters, related logos and symbols belong to Chris Carter, Fox and 1013, etc. etc.
Summary: Missing Scene from "Sein Und Zeit"-- Mulder asks Scully to stay with him for the night.
Author's Notes: Smut implied. Something else Carter & Co. would never let us see. ;o) By the way, this one came totally out of left field for me
X
Scully quietly held her crying partner, fighting hard to keep her own tears at bay. He had lost so much, first his sister, then his father, and finally his mother, the only family he'd had left.
"Please stay with me tonight Scully. I couldn't bear to be alone," he croaked, clinging to her. Her heart ached for him, and she stroked his hair as she responded,
"Of course, Mulder. I'll stay."
Every passing moment seemed an eternity, and Scully simply held Mulder for an hour as he cried. Kissing the top of his head, she said,
"Mulder, you need to lie down." He nodded, and she found that his tears had almost fully subsided as he stood up; rising out of the awkward sitting position he had been in for an hour.
"I'm gonna take a shower," he said, quickly, quietly, as he moved away from her, as though suddenly embarrassed at the emotions he had displayed so openly.
She opened Mulder's lower right desk drawer and pulled out the photo album. It struck her, as she thumbed through the pages, that more than half of all of the people in the photographs were dead. The pictures, some color, some black and white, were seemingly formal poses, the kind where everyone counted to three and said 'cheese', wearing their 'picture smiles', the forced and false ones. It had been said that you only get two seconds of a genuine smile, she thought absently. At the moment, she couldn't remember where she'd heard that, and tried to recall, but found that she could not. Shaking the thought from her mind, Scully thumbed through a few more pages, and a lone photograph fell out and fluttered to the floor. Bending over, she picked it up, and examined it.
The sight of it made her heart drop. It was a picture of a very young, four or five year-old Mulder, with his mother. He had what appeared to be chocolate ice cream on the end of his nose, and he and his mother were both laughing heartily. It was the kind of moment photographers strove to capture. A moment so pure, so unrehearsed-- a perfect moment in life. The emotion and beauty in a moment like that would not be duplicated for the purposes of the camera. Not entirely. There would be something different about their expressions, the gleam in their eyes, if it was forced for the sake of photographic preservation.
She heard the sound of the bedroom door opening, and panicked for a moment, thinking that she should put the album back. She felt like she had invaded Mulder's privacy by looking at it. By the time she made the decision to put it back, Mulder had already entered the room and seen her holding it. His expression saddened more, if that was at all possible, and he stood about six feet from her, arms crossed over his chest. He was trying to look sturdy, but his shoulders slumped.
"My family is dead. I have no one," he said, quietly, a tear slipping down his cheek. He sank gracelessly onto the couch. He left enough space between them for her to know that he was already building up his defenses, trying to block everyone out so that he couldn't be hurt anymore. Scully bit her lip, fighting back her own tears.
"I'd like to think that I have you, Mulder...and I want you to know that you'll always have me," she said, quietly. He didn't even look at her. She took his hand. "C'mon, Mulder. You need to try to sleep."
In Mulder's bedroom she watched as he walked tiredly to the left side of the bed and collapsed onto it. He pulled the covers up to his chin, and closed his eyes.
"I -um- I'll take the couch," she said, and turned to leave.
"Scully..." She turned back, and looked at Mulder, who had raised himself up on his elbow. "You don't have to sleep on the couch. If you don't mind...I'd like to have you stay here with me."
She didn't have to think twice about it. Toeing off her shoes, she peeled back the covers and climbed into his bed. She was surprised when he put his arm around her, and pulled her close. She was almost embarrassed to feel a blush creep over her cheeks.
He's your friend, Dana, calm down, her mind insisted. Under the covers, with Mulder's arm around her, and his warm body pressed against her back, Scully quickly fell asleep.
She was dreaming. Someone was placing hot, gentle kisses on her neck. She rolled over and found herself lying face to face with...
"Mulder?" she muttered sleepily. It hadn't been a dream! She was awake then. "Mulder what're you do--?" She never got to finish posing the question because he silenced her by capturing her lips and holding them hostage. It didn't appear that there would be any bargaining for their release. She was startled. What the hell was going on here? Surely she had fantasized about waking up to just this sort of thing...but Mulder had just lost his mother, and he wasn't exactly in a good place at the moment. Her body's animal response won over her rationality, and she found herself returning his kiss, with her hands entangled in his hair. Mulder grabbed her by the hips and pulled her on top of him. She gasped in surprise as he unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it off of her shoulders. She pulled back then, frightened and feeling doubt.
"Mulder, no. We can't do this..." she murmured. He stopped trying to unclasp her bra and looked at her.
"Why not?" he questioned.
"Your--your mother just died. You're not in your right mind, Mulder. We shouldn't do something we might regret later..." she said, gently. Realizing that she was still straddling him, she blushed and moved to sit beside him on the bed, pulling her blouse back on.
"Scully, it's not like I'm drunk," he argued, sitting up in the bed. "I'm perfectly fine, and if anything, my mother's death has made me realize that I don't have the time to go through life denying what I feel, and what I need. And I've come to realize over the past seven years that you are what I need..." He tucked her hair behind her ear. "I've wasted seven years on innuendo and being platonically professional. I don't want to waste any more time, because I don't know how much time I've got left..."
"And you're sure that this is what you want?" she asked. He nodded.
"I wouldn't mind having this beautiful face," he said, gently stroking her cheek, "to wake up to every morning."
"If you're sure..." she murmured, lowering herself down into the bed beside him. He smiled.
"I'm sure."
Scully didn't sleep at all afterward. Though she'd insisted that Mulder take an Ambien to help him get some rest, she couldn't find sleep herself. Every time she closed her eyes, she was back in the morgue, and Teena Mulder's cold body was on the table before her. When she did sleep, she experienced terrible nightmares.
Standing before the table in her scrubs, scalpel in hand, she prepared herself to make the first incision. When she reached down to slice, the woman's eyes suddenly snapped open, and she grabbed Scully's wrist. Eyes wide open and mouth agape in horror, Scully screamed.
"Scully! Wake up!" Mulder shook her, and she woke with a gasp. She looked around wildly for a moment before wrapping her arms around him. Her tears fell freely, and Mulder just held onto her in hopes of calming her down.
"It was just a dream," he murmured into her hair.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "It was so real." He kissed her cheek.
"I understand. I know a thing or two about bad dreams," he said, rubbing her back. "You'll be okay." He kissed her gently.
"Mulder," she said, looking up at him. "I'm so sorry about your mom." She kissed his forehead and hugged him.
"I love you Scully," he whispered. She was surprised when her eyes flooded with new tears.
"I love you too," she said, wiping her eyes. "But you need to get some sleep." He nodded and settled back down into the bed, bringing her with him.
"You get some rest too," he said. She closed her eyes as he did, but once again she couldn't sleep, and after lying in his embrace for an hour, she rose at 5:30 and dressed. She made herself coffee, and though she downed three cups, she was still exhausted and looked like hell. She felt a nagging doubt creep in, as she thought about what had happened between them the night before. Where were they supposed to go from here? She sighed and slowly drank her fourth cup as she watched his fish swim about in his aquarium.
After nearly an hour she crept back into Mulder's bedroom and slipped into bed fully clothed. As the first rays of sun crept into the room, Scully finally succumbed to sleep, woken only by a sharp knock at his door two hours later.