In the still of the night
By: Starburst
Disclaimer: The x-files is the property of Chris Carter, 1013 and Fox.
Summary: While on a case, Mulder and Scully are forced to examine their relationship and in the process develop it further. (It's not too fluffy, MSR is subtle.)
Authors note: This story already exists as "What the Night Entails". It has been so long since I have updated it and I thought it would be best just to re-submit it in an effort to bump it up after making a few minor revisions.
She watched him carefully from the veranda, her eyes moving over him admiring his masculinity and she felt the pit of desire jab in her stomach. He was so handsome and elegant, he looked like a piece of art come to life and she smiled to herself as she thought he was hers. She could demand him. And she relished in the idea. He was apparently looking for her. His hands were eloquently disposed on his hips, and he moved his head from side to side in search for her. Instead of waving him down, she stood hidden behind several plants. It was a rare occasion when she had the opportunity to admire his physical constitution, so she was taking advantage of the moment. He looked down at his watch and then over the scene before him.
"Mulder!" She called as she finally advanced towards him. Her crystal eyes seemed even bluer under the sun's glare and her fragile white skin even smoother.
Upon noticing her advance, he smiled and began moving towards her.
"Where have you been?" He queried with overtones of worry as he squinted his eyes in an attempt to shield out the intense light.
"I'm sorry, I was having trouble with my car." She replied as a parade of butterflies floated through her viscera at the idea of his concern for her. She would never admit it to him, and even had trouble admitting it to her self, but the truth remained she needed him much more than she led on. She renders its tact alive and she rigorously gives the scope to it in a platonic sense. Platonic, that is where the refutation is found. It is the line that is drawn casting aside her wishes for him to hold her in his arms, for him to move his fingers over her shoulders. She craved it like one craves drugs. But that is something she could never divulge to him, as it was enough of a struggle to confess it to herself.
"Are you ready to go?" He asked.
Startled, She turned her head in correspondence to her awakening so that their eyes met."Yeah. Where exactly is it we are going?" She responded in her calm demeanor.
"Skinner has given us orders to baby-sit a man who is currently under the witness protection program.
"Why?" She asked, her tone inferring the need for clarification in every respect to its anticipated reply, particularly the need for their involvement.
"Because the man we are being sent to supervise is a Russian who has been working closely with the FBI and has leaked damaging information about several communist activities in Russia to our federal government. Once the men committing these activities were arrested, his cover was blown and he received several death threats. He was put into the witness protection program over a year ago. Now, strange things are happening."
Annoyed, she complained, "Why we are being allocated with these boring assignments? Did we do something to piss-off Skinner?
Mulder laughed. "You haven't asked me what kind of strange things are happening to him."
"What?"" She asked despondently and rolled her eyes in order to illustrate her frustration.
"Would you prefer the graphic details or the pg rating?" He replied with a smile to its just spirit.
Scully narrowed her eyes at his proposal. "Pg, please. My stomach has been bothering me today and I intend on digesting the salad I had for lunch."
His grin stretched out further across his face. "There have been several effigies of him, or dead frogs, left at his front door."
" What?" She asked disgusted.
"Well, apparently the man we are being sent to protect resembles a frog. The relevance of this is that members of the Russian government nicknamed him 'frog' as a joke. In any case, the dead frogs, each murdered in a different manner were left at his doorstep one at a time. He thinks his life is in danger."
"That is pleasant. Why the sudden great need for protection? How long has this been occurring?"
"This has been going on for the past two weeks. The emergency is found in the latest frogs posterior. The frog had his initials inscribed into its back along with the word soon."
Scully frowned and closed her eyes as she turned past Mulder and headed towards her car. Mulder stood there for a moment and watched her progress ahead. He tilted his head as he watched in concern for his partner. Just last week she had been involved in a crucial struggle with a suspect they had been investigating in which she sustained several blows to her face among other parts of her body leaving her with bruises and scrapes. When Mulder found her, she was tied up and had been stripped to her undergarments. The suspect was in the act of preparing to sexually assault her when he shot him dead. She was definitely in a fragile condition and Mulder felt the need to comfort her more than she needed to be comforted. He longed to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. But that invisible line separated him from expressing his more than platonic love for her.
He watched her tiny legs pump in forceful strides ahead, her petite structure exuding confidence and power with every step, making him crave her that much more. Her fiery red tresses shone brilliantly under the beams of light showering the world. He wished he could freeze time for just a second so that he may admire her in her passionate, sturdy gait. But he could not so he followed in pursuit.
"Scully, do you want to ride with me? We can come back here later so that you could get your car." He suggested trying to conceal any emotion in his voice that would reveal yearning.
She turned so that their eyes locked on to each other the resolve in her eyes relaying vicissitude."Sure." She said softly as she stopped and waited for him to pass her.
They arrived to the mans house, or more namely, Vigdor Deena, in silence. Neither of them spoke a single word throughout the duration of their time spent in the car. Mulder Had the desire to reach out to her, but resisted in respect to the fact that she would come to him when or if she needed to. She had demonstrated in the past that she would only open up to him when she was ready. As hard as it was at times, he respected her disposition and virtues perhaps greater than his own. It has been on rare occasion that he has stepped in uninvited. That has only happened when she was in an unstable condition. He was beginning to consider that her silent detachment was a symptom of instability. As they approached Vigdor's front door, He reached out from behind her to place his hand on her shoulder, but Vigdor answered the door. Vigdor was an odd man. He was tall and thin. For a moment Scully thought he suffered from some sort of nervous damage because he shook uncontrollably. It was not enough to cause concern for a greater health problem, but enough to suggest he was the victim of some form of great mental torment or perhaps severe drug abuse in an earlier period of his life.
He left the two alone in his living room after he excused himself in his thick accent and disappeared into a room in the back of the house. The room was dark and was decorated with Russian paintings and a huge Indian rug that rested under a heavy, dark oak coffee table. Mulder plopped himself down onto the couch beside a gray cat with piercing yellow eyes. Scully paced around the room, moving her eyes over the numerous artifacts hoping to attain a greater understanding of Vigdors character.After fifteen minutes of silence, Mulder rose to his feet and told her he was going to go check on Vigdor. He returned and announced that he had gone to sleep and returned to his spot on the couch. "Agent Rollins will be here around 11 to relieve us, so you might as well make yourself comfortable.She sat down in a chair adjacent to him and clasped her hands together.
"So." Mluder started, trying to initiate conversation.
"I'm sorry, Mulder." She interrupted. "I know I'm quiet tonight, I don't mean to seem detached, I can tell you're worried."He widened his eyes unintentionally at her accusation and swallowed hard. He was shocked at how tense and vulnerable he became at that moment, was he that transparent, were his emotions on his sleeve?
"Of course I'm worried, Scully." He responded as he edged up in his seat and clasped his hands together on his knees.
The compassion and humanity brightened his soulful brown eyes, it was the look that made her heart ache and transported her to that safe warm place that she wished she could stay forever, yet by some uncontrollable force within her had to try with all her will to cast out. Perhaps it was out of fear of letting him, or anyone for that matter, in to close, or moreover, the fear that came from wanting him to.
She turned her head downward and pulled her lips into her mouth as she usually did when put in the emotional spotlight. "I'm okay." She unsuccessfully attempted to reassure, the fragility thick in her shaky voice.
He reached out and placed his right hand atop of hers. She looked down at it and felt her eyes moisten. She could feel the compassion through the warmth of his touch, and through those eyes that caressed over her. She couldn't make eye contact; that would ultimately be the straw that would break the floodgate of the introverted, cool reserve she was so good at maintaining to reveal a vulnerable, exposed, pile of mush that would collapse onto him. As appealing as it sounded, her ego and compulsive need to feel in control could not handle the consequences that revealing that side of her self entailed. Uncertainty scared the hell out of Dana Scully. Ironically, uncertainty is one of the largest aspects of her career, but if she could have any control over it as it pertained to her personal life, she would denounce it at all costs.
"I just want you to know you're not alone." His voice caught in his throat, his heart racing a billion miles an hour. He was sure she could feel it as well as his hand that rested over hers was throbbing with a consistent high- speed pulse. Had those words actually escaped him? They were as genuine as genuine comes, but he was treading on very thin ice and was fully aware of the fact. Scully didn't realize, or if she did, ignored the fact that Mulder knew her. And in fact, he knew her so well that he could identify what her emotion was, and had become an expert in terms of approaching her in accordance to whatever it was she was feeling. What he didn't know was that she wanted him to be there, she needed him to be there. And on several occasions, needed to be taken into his arms at times she simultaneously seemed to resist him and shut him out. But that is Scully and one of her few flaws. A flaw that made her human and even more desirable, At least as far as Mulder was concerned.
"I know." She managed as she sucked up all the awkward emotion to the pit of her stomach and repeated 'be strong, Dana' over and over in her head. She waited until any moisture that remained in her eyes dissipated before looking up and forced a smile that suggested for him to step back.
Point taken, he let his fingertips drag over her knuckles and the tendons of her hand as he pulled it back to his own body.
After several moments of more silence that had apparently become the theme of the evening, Scully stood. "I'm going to go try to find the bathroom."
"It's down the hall and to the left." He informed her and watched her as she turned the corner to the hall and vanished from his eyesight. He looked up at the antique clock, the one with the bird that pops out and whistles when the hour progresses into another, that hung over the fire place. 9:35. It was going to be a long night. Normally he would rejoice in the idea of being alone with Scully with nothing to do other than engage in conversation, but he felt threatened, hurt, if you will. He felt helpless. If there's one thing Mulder hates more than government conspiracies, it's the feeling of helplessness.
Scully braced herself with both her hands on either side of the washbasin as she gazed in the mirror into her own eyes. Her breathing was rhythmic, even intakes and expulsions of air. She felt like screaming at the top of her lungs and grabbing the glazed metallic green clay soap dish and smashing the mirror. Get control of yourself Dana. You'll be okay. She splashed some cold water on her face and blotted it dry with one of the many hand towels laid out beside the basin in a wicker woven basket. She glanced in the mirror once more and tucked her sun kissed locks behind her ears before she shut off the light and headed down the hall to meet once more with the man she wanted to hold her as she cried her eyes out and release all mental torment that afflicted her.
"He's got HBO." Mulder announced and offered a smile as she resumed her seat in her chair.
Noticing the less than amused expression that painted her features as he scrolled over the movie channels and stopped when a flying saucer flew across the screen with the hideous song 'I'm calling youuuuuuuuuu-uuu-uuuu- uuu-uuuu!' serving as back round music, he opted to turn the tv off. He tossed the remote back onto the coffee table and thoughtfully met her gaze.
She tried to contain it, but a slight grin shone from under her serious, reserved visage that she had worn all night.
Mulder's heartbeat picked up as he rummaged through his mind trying to think of something witty to say that would make the pseudo grin transform to a smile.
"Wouldn't you know it! The secret to killing those things has been hidden behind the doors with depends, dentures, pea soup and walkers." He offered. "Grandmas really do know everything."
She tried to resist, but gave in as he raised his eyebrows jokingly. The smile was not because of the content of his joke, but because she could sense what the purpose was behind it. She felt the tension weighing on her beginning to lift a little. How was it that he was so often the cause of her tension but also the cure to it? This thought perturbed her as she once again struggled with the idea of letting someone have such influence over her. It was nothing against his character; She just didn't let anyone in that close. But he was, he was up close AND personal. And while she found comfort in the idea, it also frightened her. She resented the idea of being so dependent upon someone else. But she was even more afraid of losing him now that she had experienced him. And she wanted more. She craved more. But the independent stronger-than-nails somewhat rebellious inner child forbade her from doing so. Unbeknownst to her, this would change before their night would end.
Mulder was very in tune to what his partner was feeling; however, he didn't have a clue when it pertained to him. He felt that he had to walk on eggshells around her at times. Not because she was manic and would snap on him, but because he wanted her to feel comfortable and tried his hardest not to pose a threat.
On a whim and a unexplainable urge spurring from the depths of his gut, he leaned forward and put his hand on her arm and moved it up to her shoulder as he searched her eyes that had grown big at his touch but then relaxed as they both got lost in the tenderness of the others gaze.
"I'm here for you, Scully. I'm always right here, even when your miles away, physically, or emotionally." He finally whispered in a soft voice.
Scully bent her elbow so that she rested her hand on top of his. His words fell over her like a warm blanket, and she knew at that moment she could never again deny what exactly it was that he meant to her. She closed her eyes trying to block the floodgates of raw emotion, but gave in to herself, to him. A solitary tear struggled its way from out of her thick lashes and slid delicately down her smooth cheek. He leaned in closer and wrapped his arms around her, resting his hands at the small of her back allowing his fingertips to barely graze her as he moved them slightly up and down. With their foreheads pressed together, she finally reopened her eyes.
She had found her quiescence. In the refined disposition that Mulder exuded in an effort to encase the raw emotion could her tranquility be found. He was her poise.
Now with their foreheads pressed together, she was almost sure that her thoughts were flowing freely into his. He moved in close, the warmth of his lips on her cheek was welcomed; yet she secretly yearned for more.
And then it happened. Her heart sped up as his lips inched over to hers. Her breath caught in her throat and her whole body tensed. Noting her hesitance, he rubbed her back in effort to comfort her. She exhaled and her body relaxed into his.
The warmth of her lips sent a chill down over him, the softness, and the attuned emotion flowing freely unto each other was enough to make him content for a lifetime, even if his immediate future would be ascribed to pushing daisies. The tenderness of her breath expelled into him was enough to make his nerves quiver and dwindle in the inexperienced territory.
He moved his hands up to the side of her face and slowly pulled away, his lips not wanting to detach, stuck to hers and left her with a sting.
Expecting awkwardness to ensue, he caught her eye.
Her blue eyes, swollen with tears, moved back and forth over his.
No awkwardness ensued. Only a peaceful smile did. It was a smile that originated on her esthetic, porcelain countenance that spread contagiously to him. And then she offered a small laugh. His smile grew larger and he moved in, once more.
It was like eating the forbidden fruit, exhilarating, sensual, wonderful. What frightened him was what consequence may be. After a brief time allotted to considering what they may entail, he decided he didn't care. He would sacrifice eternal bliss for just a moment...
"I would give up everything-anything..." He began in a whisper. "I would give up anything for this. Right here. This is what I live for.
The tears had evolved to rain drop sizes and poured from her like a stream flowing gently down a mountain.
Will be updated shortly!