A/N: Dream makin' time part deux! :) Scully's turn. Her dream is more important...
Her lungs burned as she ran through the streets. The tears of fear falling down her cheeks stung her skin in the cold air. She tried not to trip on her skirts, and she knew not to look back. Just run.
Her little fist banged on the heavy wooden door. Thankfully, it didn't take much time for the door to open. A kindly women ushered her inside.
"My dear! It's cold out there! Where's your cloak?" the woman scolded.
"I-I need to see him."
"He's upstairs."
She took off up the steps before the women could actually finish he statement.
She peered in the different rooms.
"Édouard?!" she called.
A fluffy brown-haired head popped out of the room on the right at the end of the hall.
"Léonie?" he questioned, as if he didn't believe that she was there. "What's wrong?" he noticed her disheveled appearance and the tears rolling down her face.
She shook her head and threw herself into his arms.
"Could I get some tea up here?!" he called down to his maid. He then asked her, "How did you get here?"
"Ran."
"It's a long way!" he said, surprised.
She nodded.
"Have a seat," he said, leading her into his study and helping her situate herself onto the couch. He sat next to her.
"I know who it is," she finally managed to say in between deep breaths.
"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding confused and thoroughly worried about her condition.
The maid brought in the tea, and he told her to shut the door behind her when she left.
She took a large sip of the steaming tea, grateful for it's warming ability. He watched her carefully. He brushed an auburn strand of hair behind her shoulder.
"Are you okay?" he asked, looking into her eyes, trying to read her.
"No," she replied. "I am not okay!"
The tears began to form again. A few escaped quickly down her cheek. He brushed them away with his thumbs.
"Tell me what happened."
"The- the Comte. He's-he's the k-killer you're l-looking for," she managed to sniffle out.
"What?!" He stood up. "How do you know that?!"
"He just as well told me so!" she sobbed.
"What did he say?" he asked, shocked. He sat back down, taking her trembling hands.
"You were right. That gift, it was an engagement offer. And I refused him. And he said that I should be careful and reconsider, or I would end up like those murdered girls. He- he told me that he had spent enough money on me and that I belonged to him! I never accepted anything from him, though! Things just showed up! I don't even really know him!"she sobbed.
He shook his head in disbelief.
"That's not all. He tried to force himself on me. I kicked him and ran. That's why I came here. Please. Protect me," she quietly begged.
"I will," he promised, controlling his anger over the situation.
"I don't belong to him. I belong with you. I always have, and I always will," she told him and very suddenly kissed him.
She pressed her lips firmly to his, as if she was afraid to let go of him. When she finally did release him from her kiss, he still looked shocked and a bit worried.
"I want you to make love to me," she confessed quietly to him.
"Oh, Léonie..." he sighed, smiling and shaking his head. "How about," he began, pulling a ring out of his pocket and dropping to one knee, "we get married first?"
She gasped in surprised delight.
"I have loved you since the first moment I saw you. I want to be with you always. And, regarding your offer, I don't want to tarnish your good name. So, what do you say? Will you have me?"
He slipped the ring into the palm of her hand, as if to let her inspect it. She could see that 'E.N. & L.S.' were engraved on the inside of the ring's band.
"Of course!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck.
He stood up, picked her up, and swung her around, placing random kisses on her lips, cheeks, and forehead. Finally, he let her slide from his arms, and her feet were firmly on the floor.
"As for my good name, I don't care," she said, taking his hand. "I just really want to be with you."She traced his bottom lip with the thumb of her other hand.
He smiled, picked her up groom-style, and said, "Well then..." before he carried her out the door...
A/N: About the dreams: they are always, obviously, from Scully or Mulder's point of view, so in this case whatever Edouard is thinking or feeling we don't really know about it. We only know what he says.