As always, I do not own the X Files or any of these characters. Nothing to see here but an X Files fanatic playing god.
"What do you remember about me?" asked Susanne, as Scully stepped out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea, placing both on the coffee table. Susanne sat on a chair, so Scully settled onto the couch.
"Not very much. You know the Lone Gunmen. You're a scientist. And...we 'killed' you to save your life," she sighed. Sometimes, Scully couldn't believe her own words.
"Do you know how I met them?"
"Vaguely." At Susanne's hesitation, Scully continued. "You...met them at a convention, and, as Langly put it, 'opened their eyes to things.' The 'things' they still, um, investigate now.'" Susanne nodded. "You were taken ten years ago, and didn't see them again until about a year ago."
"That's right." After a brief silence, Scully spoke up.
"I don't mean to be rude, but I don't understand. Are you in danger? Why are you here?"
Susanne sighed. "I think I need your help."
"Wouldn't you be more comfortable going to them for help?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't. He can't know I'm here."
"What?"
"John." She choked back a sob.
"John...Byers? Why do you have to hide from Byers?"
"You could call it that, I guess," she choked out a sharp laugh, before standing and pacing. "Ten years ago, I was taken, and...they tried to take my life away. John helped me, both times, without question. But, just last year, right after finding each other again, we were torn apart." She stopped, and met her eyes. "I didn't want to lose him again. I wanted to give us a chance."
Scully blinked, then rose an eyebrow, gesturing for her to go on.
"I knew we couldn't have a conventional relationship. We'd never get that chance now. But, we had a choice. We couldn't let them take everything. If they did, it wouldn't have been worth all of his effort saving me."
"Guys, someone's been here." Langly eyed the area around their headquarters' entrance for other clues, but he could always tell. Frohike could say what he wanted, but Langly had a good eye, which came in useful more often than sometimes for the paranoid trio. Sure enough, the doorknob was in the wrong position. Whoever it was, they weren't being careful. That could only mean one thing. Frohike grabbed the metal pipe by the door, and silently nodded. Byers opened it- only to meet a blonde,, staring at a monitor on the opposite wall. Her back was to them, but, startled, she turned.
"Susanne?"
Slowly, she pulled the shades from her face. "John."
"Oh, great." Frohike sighed, stepping past her towards the monitors.
"What are you doing here? What's wrong?" Byers walked towards her, reaching out and grasping her arm.
"I...I needed to see you," she whispered.
"Susanne, you aren't safe here. We need to take you somewhere else," Byers looked wildly around the room, as if to develop a plan to help her dematerialize to a safer location, without using one of the doors. "Maybe if we-"
"John." She reached for his face, holding it with both hands, so that he had to look into her eyes. "Can we talk somewhere first?"
Byers closed his eyes to the contact, reminding himself to breathe. It had been a ten year absence before. Comparatively, a few months wasn't long, but it felt like ten years. Saying goodbye to Susanne was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do. He didn't know if he had the strength to do it again.
"Look buddy, the way I see it, she's here. This may not be ideal, but she's at risk if we leave her out in the cold." Frohike stated, reluctantly. "If anyone saw her come in, they'd have probably been here by now."
"How long have you been here?" Byers breathed.
"About an hour."
"Dude, her footprints are gone. It's snowing pretty hard out there." Langly swung past them, immediately sitting at a computer.
Byers nodded, eyes immediately opening to lock with hers. He took her hand and led her to his "bedroom," a space converted from what looked like a warehouse office. Blinds covered the windows that made up half of the walls. The room was sparse, with a simple wardrobe, chest of drawers, and a desk. A small, immaculately-made bed sat neatly in the center of the room. After enough all-nighters working on the low-paying job, the three decided to set up camp together at a larger headquarters. Each lacked much of a social life, so when the place didn't feel too cramped, they were grateful for the company. He rolled the door closed behind him, turning to face her.
"Susanne," He eyed her intently "What are you doing? We gave you a new identity, but that can only protect you so much. If they find out you're alive-"
"John, I had to see you." She removed her coat, and folded it neatly, setting it on top of the desk. .
Byers sighed. He gestured towards the bed. She sat down at the edge. He took a seat next to her, careful not to touch legs.
"How are things going?" She asked gently. He sighed.
"Like they always do. We uncover the odd story, but for the most part, our paper is scraping by. Readership is down. Not like it was ever up." He threw his hands in the air halfheartedly, before letting them fall limply between his knees.
Susanne turned to him. He was staring down at his hands. She couldn't claim to know John Byers very well, but she liked to think she knew his heart well enough. She was immediately drawn to his earnest attempt at uncovering the truth, and she hated to see time wearing him down. She placed a hand on his.
"You do important work, John. It may not always seem that way, but people are listening, if only a few." He was still looking away. "John," she whispered.
He looked up to meet her eyes.
"Are you unhappy to see me?"
"Of course not." He said gently.. "But I am confused. Susanne, what are you doing here?"
Susanne sighed, and closed her eyes.
"In the ten years we were apart, I saw you...everywhere. In my dreams. In everyone I met. I think, in Grant, I saw what I wanted to see."
Byers closed his eyes. Hearing that man's name never got any easier.
"When I saw you again," she swallowed, "in Las Vegas, I thought I was dreaming. I promised myself, before, that I'd find you someday. But then, things got in the way." He looked down again. He didn't want to think she almost married that man. "John." She cupped his face. Byers nodded, urging her to go on.
"When we parted last time, I tried to stay away. I really did. But I couldn't fight it. I didn't want to lose you again." Her hand fell.
"Susanne, what are you saying?"
"I want a life. I want to give this a chance." She reached for his left hand, gliding a thumb over the ring she gave him. Byers blushed. As time wore on, he'd felt increasingly ridiculous for wearing it. He'd catch Frohike and Langley eyeing it and exchanging looks, as if waiting for the opportune time for an intervention. Still, there were some days that he took comfort in sliding the ring onto his finger. It was the seemingly tiny addition to his morning routine that helped him get up to face another day.
"It's too dangerous," he said, staring down at their joined hands. The sight of them tugged his heart.
"John, I'm in danger every day. Those bastards took my life from me- for so many years. But, if I live like I have been these past few months, they've won."
Her eyes met his again. She could see the struggle on his innocent, chronically honest face. She leaned closer.
"Do you want me to go?"
"No."
He frowned, confused. She cupped his face, bringing his lips to hers. His lips responded immediately, but he made no other move to touch her. They spent several minutes like that at the edge of his bed. It was Susanne who took things further, bringing a caressing hand to his chest, sliding her fingers between the buttons, moving her mouth down his neck. She loosened his tie, before pulling it from the collar. Byers closed his eyes, and began to caress the back of her neck and run his fingers through her hair. He breathed rapidly as she lowered him to the bed, finally reaching the last button on his shirt. She pulled his shirt and jacket off simultaneously, only to meet a soft, white t-shirt. Susanne splayed her fingers over the soft cotton, taking in his gentle hum of pleasure.
He pulled her down with him, turning his body to the side to reach over and caress her shoulder, and lean down to kiss her. His hands found her buttons. Finally, he began to work on her shirt, kissing from neck to shoulder as her blouse opened.
Byers never considered himself very attractive. Susanne was overwhelming in her beauty; enough to help him cast off his previous notions of morality and follow her into the dark web of government conspiracies he still found himself investigating ten years later. She'd probably been with many more-attractive men. This thought followed him as she tugged at the hem of his t shirt. Eventually, he pulled the shirt over his head.
Susanne had spent nights wondering what he looked like underneath the suit. As the dreams continued and her desire deepened, she grew to long for his lean frame; to see potential in his soft manliness. Other men disappointed her once their shirts were off. Grant had a thick, overly-hairy chest, and the suggestion of places he'd gain weight as they aged. Byers was smooth and pale, yet subtly muscular, with small tufts of soft hair sprinkling his chest. She felt a twinge in her lower abdomen. She held back the desire to bury her face in his chest, instead pulling him down for another kiss. He felt around the band of her bra for the hook.
"It's a," she swallowed," It's a front closure."
"Oh," Byers whispered, shyly looking away. Her heart squeezed in her chest at the sight of the blushing man. He fumbled with the closure for a short time before casting off the lacy, black garment, spreading it away from her chest. Byers heard her ragged breath, and reached for her face, cupping it towards his. He kissed her again eagerly, as she ran her fingers up his bare chest.
"Susanne," he gasped, breaking away, closing his eyes to refocus. She brought her lips to his, and they continued their fevered kissing. Susanne began to unfasten his belt, eager to free his erection and Byers caught on, sliding his pants down his legs. They fell on the floor at the foot of the bed. Byers unzipped her skirt, and she pulled it down her hips, subtly kicking it to the floor along with her hose and panties.
He rolled on top as her hands caressed down his shoulders to his biceps. He let out a ragged sigh, and let a thumb caress her nipple.
Just then, a thought crashed through his consciousness, and he froze. He nearly cried out with frustration, but instead, his shoulders fell and his eyes squeezed shut.
"John?" Her tone made him open his eyes to meet her concerned ones.
"I'm sorry. Susanne, I don't think we can do this. I don't have any," he looked away. "protection."
She kissed his temple. "It's okay- I'm on the pill, John." He blushed again, and they fell into a series of long, languid kisses.
"Are you absolutely sure you want this? We can stop. You don't have to do anyth-"
Se stopped him with a kiss. Slowly, they separated, foreheads resting against each others'. "I want this, John. Please." Byers nodded, bringing a trembling hand down to her folds. His eyes closed and his breath quickened at the moisture he found there. She whimpered. John could hardly believe tonight. Susanne was here, beautiful and brilliant, and she wanted him. He swallowed, before slowly entering her.
Both hissed with pleasure.
John hadn't made love to a woman since his last serious relationship in college, with Charlotte. It was a two-year romance, ending six months later than it should have. Being young and naive, and seeking his father's approval, he thought that marriage would fix their problems, but, not long after she turned down his proposal in favor of "slowing down," she "met" someone else, a man she'd been secretly dating for the past few months. He ended up relieved that the relationship didn't last, seeing it eventually for what it was; a youthful attempt at fulfilling societal and paternal expectations. After meeting Susanne, he didn't seek out female companionship, holding out for what Frohike called the most unlikely of all hopes. Now, Susanne was here, lying beneath him, gloriously nude, with love in her eyes. He didn't want to disappoint her. Perhaps he'd gone crazy with loneliness, but right now, he didn't care.
"John?" his eyes met her concerned gaze. " Are you alright?"
Byers nodded, and, embarrassed, began to move. Susanne stared into John's eyes, filled with love and tinges of anxiety. As she felt him move inside her, she could barely contain herself. He brought a hand down to meet her clitoris, and she sighed into his mouth.
Susanne's labored, gasping breaths would do nothing to help him last. Luckily, she seemed as responsive as he was, and within minutes, both fell into a tangle of ecstasy on the twin-sized bed. His eyes squeezed shut as he collapsed onto her on the bed. He quickly rolled off, landing on his back, staring at the ceiling of his makeshift bedroom, smiling slightly, before turning to her. His smile disappeared when he found her staring thoughtfully up at a fixed point on the ceiling.
"Susanne?"
"I don't want to lose you, John."
He turned his body towards her, enveloping her in his arms, and pulling her head to rest on his chest. "I'm right here. Let's just enjoy tonight."
She nodded, and he buried his face into her hair.
"We'll make this work," he said, both to Susanne and to himself. He pulled the covers over their bodies, and gently kissed the top of her head.
"She left a few hours later," Byers said, running a hand over a keyboard. "After we promised to stay in touch somehow, and meet as often as we could."
"Then, did you see her again?" Mulder asked.
Langly snorted. Byers let himself smile for a moment.
"Yes. As often as we could manage. The next time I saw her wasn't until three weeks later."
"Oh, John, I missed you," she said between kisses.
"We hadn't heard from you. I was worried!" She rubbed the back of his neck as their kisses became more languid.
"Would you two get a room?" Frohike bristled.
"Yeah, you're putting me off my burrito," Langly chimed in.
The two separated, blushing, and Byers smiled, taking her hand and leading her back to his room.
"Byers is going nuts." Langly shook his head, before taking a bite out of his burrito.
"Believe me, buddy, there are worse reasons to lose your marbles. And hey, maybe someday, you'll understand. Ah," Frohike sighed dramatically, shaking his head, "virgins."
As he opened the fridge, a balled up foil wrapper hit the back of Frohike's neck. When he turned, Langly was back to eating.
"We've been researching one of your stories. We published our findings in the last issue."
"Yes, I know."
"You read it?"
"Of course. The 'In Memoriam' was a nice touch."
"We thought it might be," Byers smiled, but the thought caused the smile to slip from his features.
"John." She cupped his face, pulling him in for a kiss. "Stay with me."
He nodded, and enveloped her in his arms. She sighed into his chest.
"I've thought about this for so long," she whispered, as her hand rested on his soft, cotton undershirt.
"So have I." He nuzzled her hair, inhaling deeply.
"I even used to have these dreams. About you. They never went away, not even after I met Grant," she admitted guiltily.
"He was the one who used you," Byers said, seeming to read her mind.
"I know. But sometimes, I'd wake up the next morning, feeling...like I was sleeping next to the wrong man. To think I almost married him..." she trailed off. "How could I have lived with myself?" He expected this conversation sooner or later, but it wasn't something he looked forward to.
"You were in danger. You thought you could trust him." He smoothed back her hair from her forehead.
"Of course. I loved him. I did." She sighed. "But still. I didn't feel what I always thought I should feel. Maybe he knew that. Maybe that's why-"
"Susanne." Byers stopped her. "He chose to betray you. If he truly loved you, he would have done everything he could to keep you safe." He squeezed his eyes shut. The words left his mouth before he could think. He felt her stiffen. "I'm sorry." After a long silence, she spoke.
"I...it's just hard to remember that sometimes. It's taking some time to wrap my head around it." She shook her head. ""Grant never seemed completely there. I always assumed he was preoccupied with everything. I wonder sometimes, when they got to him. And now, I'll never know." The thought of their lovemaking, deliberate and mechanical, was just one sign, another thing she convinced herself was "just Grant," that came back to haunt her sometimes.
"I know. I'm sorry," he said, waiting for her to break away.
"He told me he loved me. And I believed him. He was going to watch me die."
Byers's grip tightened. "I couldn't imagine anyone doing that to you."
"You couldn't. I know." she nuzzled him, burrowing her head further between his shoulder and neck. His purity took her off-guard sometimes. When she was a little girl, she read fairy tales about medieval nights and chivalry, thinking she'd find a husband who emulated the honorable men that graced her storybooks. As she aged, like every woman, she learned that real-life knights were nothing like in the faded set of books she kept on her shelf as a child. Knights in real life looked out for themselves. But Byers was different. Staying faithful to her, looking for her and loving her with barely even a kiss to remember her by.
Her heart swelled, and she drew him in for a kiss.
