Date:   November 1998
Category: S; MSR, Angst
Rating:  R -  for adult language and mature themes.
Keywords:  Mulder/Other; Mulder/Scully UST

Spoilers:  Emily, Fight the Future.

Archive:  Archive anywhere, as long as you keep my name attached.
Please let me know.

Summary:  Mulder and Scully slowly drift apart. A painful event
reunites them after three years.

Dedication:  To Helene. Many thanks to Leah, proof reader
"extraordinaire". And Heather for her support.

Disclaimer:  Yeah, right.


Feedback:  Please, feel free to drop me a line. Nice comments and even
flames will be appreciated. I believe in constructive criticism and
I'm open to any suggestions.

Comments:  I don't believe Mulder will ever buy Scully flowers... This
is the result of a wandering in those dark thoughts.


*** ***


TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (1/10)


My hand rest on my soft belly and my fingers playfully run on my
navel. I think of him. It's been three months since we have come back
from Antartica. The frost bite marks are gone from my face and I've
stopped throwing my guts up each night.

Before, once in a while, especially after a straining case, I used to
lull myself to sleep thinking of him. Since the cold, there isn't
another way I can actually get some rest. I don't know how, in this
lifetime, I will be able to repay him for what he did for me.


Fox Mulder is a very complex man and I can honestly say I'm not as
easy to read as crystal myself. My partner of so many years. My
friend. People often mistake us for a couple. It used to be irritating
to me; sometimes just plain funny.

Since he went down to Hell and came back to save me, I don't laugh
anymore. We could have become a couple, intimate, and concretize 5
years of soft, friendly touch. We had actually started to work on a
sketch of this idea before...I was taken again.

I wasn't sure I wanted this but I didn't know I didn't want it either.
It just seemed natural, a logical flow of our lives. I still want it
today.

But since we've come back, he's been distancing himself from me.
Withdrawing further and further in this little world of his. Oh, he is
still concerned and asks about my health and comfort every day that
God makes. A real Mother Hen. His little ways of touching me are gone
though. I'm not a psychologist but I would dare to say he doesn't do
it anymore from fear of hurting me. As if anything could be worse than
the ordeal I just endured. Worse than having an alien life form
crawling down your throat.

Mulder's tone is still sweet and friendly but I know it's fake. He has
a lot on his mind and he obviously doesn't want to voice his thoughts
to me. He is worried and avoids my touch.


I've been seeking counseling since my return but the few persons I
talked with didn't seem to comprehend the wideness of the gash left in
me. I wanted to talk to Mulder about it but, I don't know, maybe I was
too tired to share. And like always, I waited for him to come to me,
to open to me first. What a mistake.


Mulder came to me, ten days or so after our return from Antartica.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"Uh-huh..." I replied trying not to drop toothpaste on the wooden
floor. He caught me while I was brushing my teeth.

He stood there, watching me foaming white. My eyes smiled and I
strolled to the bathroom. When I came back in the living room, Mulder
was pacing around my apartment, obviously in need to tell me
something. I sat down on the couch, curled my arms around my knees and
waited.

After an hour and a half of this unfruitful game, I sent him home. He
played puppy on me.

"Scully, I..."

"Mulder, just go home. You've been burning holes in my carpet with all
that pacing." I held his gaze and he felt more and more uncomfortable
by the minute. "If you have something to tell me, shoot. Otherwise, go
get some rest." Yeah, right. Like I don't even have something to tell
*you*.

He gave me his hurt look, the one I know so well. The "you wound me
Scully, but I will forgive you because I value our partnership above
all else." Or maybe it wasn't this one.

Anyway, hurt and frustrated, he left. He left me and I let him go.


*** ***


On Monday, Mulder simply asked to have the next week off. Deserved
recovering time. I thought Skinner was going to choke. It lasted one
entire week, from Friday night to Sunday morning (which technically is
nine days) and not a single phone call. Really off that fucking week.


And our days are numb now. Each and everyday, an exchange of this kind
takes place:

"Are you okay, Scully?"

"Hum? Yes, I'm okay, thanks for asking."

"Cup of coffee?"

"No thank you, I've had one already. Wouldn't want me to jump on you
now Mulder?" I smile playfully at my teasing. Like old times.

His face is blank and he goes: "Well, I want one so I'll be back in a
sec'."

And he steps out of the office mug in hand, his back turned to me, his
shoulders slumped.


Something very wrong is happening to us. I am not perfect. I'm not
extremely expansive about my inner feelings. I am not a saint. And God
knows my relationship with Mulder has been a bumpy ride. A real
roller-coaster. But this absolutely defies any kind of logic. We
should be cuddling now, sharing secrets and reassuring ourselves about
the total trust we put in each other. Instead, my partner has turned
into a... poster boy for indifference. My beautiful concerned
indifferent.

How am I supposed to deal with him now? There isn't any hesitation on
what I want from him anymore. But I don't want to force myself on him,
I don't want to play territorial. I want him to want me. If he
doesn't, for now, this will have to wait. If he doesn't want me at
all, then I've been living a lie for the past five years. Then I've
been dead for the past five years.


*** ***


I had to flee the room. I don't care it's been my third cup of coffee
in two hours.

As I lean against the cold concrete of our hallway, the delicious
smell coming from my mug doesn't comfort me at all.

My heart constricts at the thought of what I'm doing to her. "You've
made me a whole person." That's not bullshit. What the hell was I
thinking?

She does make me whole. But I can't give her more. I've given all I
could on that ice field in Antartica. I can't offer anything else.

I wish she could understand. You might call me selfish, but this is
it. Protecting Scully was as much a feral need as it was a challenge
to me. I've completed my ultimate mission. I need to distance myself
from all this or I'll die from the worry.

I can't allow her to hurt me anymore. Each time she is in danger, I
lose a little bit of myself.  Each time she suffers, I die. This has
to stop.


Of course there is this way she looks at me. Beautiful little bit of
femininity. Her chin up, her crystal eyes firm and steady, her arms
crossed over her chest.

"Mulder?"

She had been watching me. I cowardly give her a sheepish look, and go
back into the office.


*** ***


I will never forget the day Mulder met her. He had gone out, rushing
through our half an hour lunch-break to bring us back some good
Italian food from Marcello's. He'd been a pain in the ass all morning,
so I told him this would be his way of buying himself a truce.

He had frankly looked pissed but obeyed anyway. *I* can be a real pain
in the butt too when I want to.

He came back, forty five minutes later - I should have killed him just
for that - with a silly, beaming grin displayed on his face. I could
have slapped him.

"Mulder, it better not be cold!"

"Nah, you can use the microwave from the cafeteria if you need to."

"I thought the whole point of ordering lunch was to avoid going to the
cafeteria..."

"Well," he cockily replied, "I won't let your whiny complaining ruin
my day. I've met someone... quite special today."

His eyes glittered from excitement. Pencil. Poke. Eyes.

"Oh, promising date, Mulder?" Shut up, you idiot.

"Very."

And with this, he held me out my cold lunch and went back to...
whatever he does when he pretends to be doing paperwork.

I don't swallow nor digest cold food very well. It tends to remain
there, heavy on my stomach.


*** ***

I never thought I could be attracted to anybody but Dana Katherine
Scully. Not that I don't fantasize about other women, God knows I do!
No, I meant genuinely drawn.

Clara is pretty. Not model gorgeous but womanly exquisite. Her hair is
a slick shoulder length of maple syrup. Her eyes are like coffee. She
sometimes nibbles on the small lower lip of her smiling mouth. She is
not very tall, although taller than Scully. Well, she isn't a thing
like Scully.

The way we met was awfully banal. Customer in a restaurant meets
waitress working in the aforementioned restaurant.. Don't begin to
pick on her because she is a waitress. You thought I went more for the
brainy type, didn't you? Well, Clara might not hold a P.H.D but she
retorts with smart wit many people could envy her.

I asked if they had anything low fat because my partner was a real
nuisance when she picked on her food, she smiled and said that if she
was my partner, she would never refuse anything I would offer her. I
frankly laughed at her flirting. After fifteen minutes of small talk
during her not-due-now-but-taken-anyway break, I asked her out. She
said yes. Life can be simple sometimes. I crave simple.

Although the restaurant didn't do low fat and I knew Scully would be
pissed.


*** ***


Should I feel betrayed? The man told me I completed him after all. Not
a fucking love declaration but close enough. Oh, yes, I made him a
whole person. Guess we're gonna be crowded in there now, aren't we?

He spent the afternoon whistling under his breath and was out of the
door at five sharp. I just let him go. I even said "have a good time,
Mulder." Geez, how much more hypocritical can I get?

What do you want me to say? Or do? Run after him? Cry for him, beg him
to stay? Pledge him my eternal love and devotion? Well, this isn't
Barbara Cartland. So, no, I won't. I'll just remain alone and muse
over my fate.

It's just a date after all. It's not like I haven't seen him with
other women before. Hell, I've even been with some men. Curiously,
this is different. I'm losing my half of the whole.


*** ***


Tonight was our third date and I regressed back to High School. I
drove her back to her place and kissed her goodnight. On the mouth!
Wow. Jesus, I can feel the pimples crawling back up. We're taking it
slow. And we both seem to be enjoying the pace.

I neglected my email and the Gunmen left exactly 23 messages on my
machine, insulting me for not showing up at their private screening of
"Star Trek: First Contact". Sorry, I had some first contact of my own
to establish. No message from Scully. Strange.

I'm about to turn forty, I know we will someday have to deal with an
invasion of extraterrestrial entities, colonization might have already
begun. And I'm putty in the arms of a woman. I will turn bald soon
enough and buy a Labrador. I scare myself. But the idea of a stable
family appeals to me.


As I try to get some sleep, lulled by the smell of my leather couch, I
think of her. I should call her. She might worry. I should ask about
her. We haven't talked all week-end.

Scully.

I'm done protecting you.


*** ***


I sip a my hot cocoa. I feel like I regressed back in high school.
Jealous because the guy I love has run with another girl. How pathetic
is that?

I drape the afghan closer to my chest and sigh. I am not some teenager
suffering from puppylove sickness. I'm an educated adult, madly in
love with her best friend. Mulder's touches and innuendos used to make
me think it wasn't unrequited love.

As a tear drops into my mug, adding its saltiness to the creamy,
sugary brew, I bleed.


*** ***


I hate the look he wears on his face, each morning of every single day
since he met her. Radiant. And it's not just the after sex glow. I'm
not even sure they have gone this far yet. But he's falling in love.
And I'm falling from grace.

I shouldn't have those thoughts. After all, he is nothing to me but my
partner of five years, my best friend. Really, nothing. Christ, I'm
going insane.

I'm not strong enough to fight for him. It's like your mother's
favorite piece of jewelry. It is supposed to be given to you someday.
Mulder was my jewel. He could have belonged to me. I feel I've been
cheated.


*** ***


I am so stupidly happy it's not even funny. Clara and I became
intimate last night. After 3 weeks of dating. It was slow and burning.
Not the best sex I've ever had, but she is energetic and inventive.
This could lead to a long term exploration of many amazing lovemaking
possibilities.

She tasted good. I chew on my pencil, close my eyes and try to
recreate the first time I lay my mouth on her skin.

I hear a coughing and Scully is there, eyeing me. Her sadness is so
transparent it hurts. She hands me a report I have to approve and goes
back to her desk. Yes, I did get her a desk. I am not that
insensitive.

Or maybe I am. I realize now that her sorrow mirrors my happiness. I
understand Scully suffers from my attitude. But the heavy burden of
our years comes between us. It is too much to handle. I'm too young to
stop living, young enough to build myself a new life. I need a fresh
start, a clean cut from my past. I must be stupid somehow because I
still cling to some remnants of my former life. Like the X-Files...and
my partner. At least for now.

I still have work to do, answers to find and people to help. Or do I?

I know now that my sister is alive. Even if she doesn't want to see
me, it still is some sort of closure.

I have made peace with some of my demons. Scully is a living reminder
of the rest of them. I won't allow them to get to me anymore.


*** ***


His brilliant mind is distracted. I know he thinks of her. Like I
think of him. A constant oppression in my chest; I can only breathe
when he's not looking. He chews on one yellow, worn pencil, a sly
smile on his face, his eyes unfocused.

I am in danger. I won't be able to trust Mulder's protection anymore.
He will not be able to watch my back as he used to. Will I be able to
go on that way? Part of our unspoken deal was our willingness to die
for each other. Mulder isn't even willing to get me a damn cup of
coffee these days. Have I turned into a gigantic, repulsive monster?
Am I the only one who hasn't noticed? He doesn't touch me, doesn't
caress me with his eyes now.

Hell, he doesn't even pat my back anymore. Last week, we were out in
the field, in Virginia. We parked near the crime scene and a local
detective was there to point out the exact spot. Instinctively, I
waited for Mulder to motion me towards the place, a hand softly
resting on the small on my back. As pushy and cliché as it was, I
loved it. But he nodded to the detective and passed right next to me,
following the tall officer inside the damn building. I just remained
there, frozen. The worst is that he didn't realize I wasn't on his
heels. I composed myself and joined them a minute later. He ignored
the whole fucking incident. Okay, it might have been meaningless to
anybody - it obviously was to him - but it hurt me. I have lost him.


*** ***


I lie in Clara's welcoming bed; she breathes softly at my side. It's
time for us to get going. It's Sunday but we have planned to eat
outside then go watch a local ball game. Ordinary bliss.

"Hum... Fox..."

Uh, yes, she is allowed. "Mulder" sounds too much like Scully. And Fox
can be a very sexy name when said with passion. I caress her.

"Yeah, babe, we have to get up. It's almost eleven."

She shoots me a "but-I-wanna-cuddle" look and I playfully frown.

"Alright, alright. Come here, you big man."

She draws me on top of her and, well, the rest is private matter.


After showers and coffees, we head out to Georgetown to have a
delicious lunch at one of our favorite places. I'm really beginning to
think of us as a couple; we have favorites, a song we dance to, a
blanket we like to share. Wonderfully scary.

Clara teases me sometimes about my work and my mysterious partner. I'm
so reluctant to answer her that she often drops the subject by
herself. She doesn't  need to share the horrors  I've seen, the
deceptions I've endured. Clara doesn't know much about me, now that I
think of it. But she is patient.

I play with my food and she gently asks: "I'm... going to see my
parents next week-end. Want to come?"

My fork falls into my plate with a chunky sound and she smiles at the
disconcerted look I must sport right now.

"It's nothing official, you know. But they live down in Virginia and I
thought you might enjoy the trip. Plus, two days without you would
make this week-end long... very long."

Her voice is almost sultry. Guess I'm going to met her family after
all.


Later, we snuggle against each other on the stands, cheering for the
team representing Clara's neighborhood. We hold hands and screw the
Syndicate, I'm happy.

I wonder if they will let us be. I haven't had a real case to
investigate in months. No leads, no informants, no chases. The need to
uncover conspiracies fades everyday. They will let us be safe.


*** ***


His energy used to be focused on his work, hence on me. Now he cannot
get out of the office soon enough, knowing that she will be waiting
for him at home. Home. Less than four months after they first met - I
will spare you the exact details, but I've counted the days -, they
moved in together. I almost laughed. Of course, he didn't bother to
tell me; I found out when he had the change done on some
administrative papers.

Two days later, he asked me for his old spare key back. Had to give it
back to the landlord. I used to cherish this key we shared. He didn't
give me a new one. I didn't ask for my spare key but I know it's gone
from his keychain.

Of course, I was sick when they asked a few friends over to christen
their new home. Funny how I have this tendency to be sick or at my
mom's each time Mulder socially invites me anywhere. Not that he does
it very often anymore.

I've never met her. There is no need. I know what she looks like,
Mulder exhibits a fucking photograph of her on his desk. It took me
five years to get a desk.

She is pretty but not too much, enough to look lovely and relaxed in
the picture. She doesn't seem much taller than I am; her hair is
brown, shoulder length and slick. "Nice catch, Mulder," I would say if
I was one of his buddies. Not that he has any. Not that I am one.

Am I jealous of this Clara person? I should be, shouldn't I? Maybe I
don't have the energy to let jealousy consume me. He put his trust
into another heart. I don't think I'll find any other heart in the
whole fucking world to give my trust to. Maybe I should subscribe to
"American Singles" and see what they have to offer. Might not be that
easy to find another dark, brilliant lanky man to fight with.


Maybe I need my cancer to grow its black death back into me to force
his attention on me. God, what an horrible thought... We were so close
to each other at that time.  I know Mulder still cares. Sometimes, he
looks at me when he thinks I don't notice and he is haunted. Does he
resent me this much that he can't open to me but prefers running
forward?


*** ***


It's been five months with Clara and something is indubitably wrong.
Oh, I love her and we're good together. Too good. I can't concentrate
on what I do anymore. Guess that's why I was a loner all these years.
I take this back. I wasn't alone. Never. But it was a different kind
of relationship; a lonely companionship.

I should be at peace with my work though. No exciting cases in weeks.
Only one trip to Nevada and I couldn't get away from Scully soon
enough to be able to whisper loves to Clara on the phone. God bless
cell phones. I mostly do research work, help the Violent Crimes
Section now and then. I admit it, the X-Files are slowly dying. It
makes me sad but often, death is what it takes to be reborn.

Still, I miss the thrill, the adrenaline of the past years. Maybe a
good, juicy case could motivate my rusty brain, my old body.


*** ***


It had to happen. Mulder got sloppy. A gruesome but stimulating
investigation. The first in weeks. He failed to notice a tiny detail
that delayed the arrest of a kidnapper. We lost two days. It almost
cost the life of an elderly woman, a fragile granny abducted from her
home.  She was so weak when we found her, we all thought she was as
good as dead. But Mulder was frantic and mad and he rushed her to the
hospital, not even waiting for the paramedics to arrive. She survived.
Not especially because of his actions, but I think it was the only way
Mulder could have faced himself in a mirror after this fiasco.


And it happened, that Thursday night. A loud pounding on my front door
woke me up and I sleepily answered the door, not even thinking it
could be him, not even bothering to look through the peephole. Maybe I
am the one getting sloppy.


Half a second after I had opened the door, he was in my arms, holding
me tight in a desperate hug. There, I must have lost the manual on
"how to breathe in ten lessons". Guess the human body is a fine
machine because I survived.

Drops of pure agony wetted my cotton shirt and I let him caress my
neck, bury his face in my hair, cling to me. Feel my love. Feel my
love, was all I could think of in his arms. Feel my love, Mulder. Let
it soothe you, envelop you in a safe blanket. I stroked his hair, ran
my fingertips on the soft skin of his burning neck.

His body married mine and we were one. No words were said. I knew what
he was trying to forget. My heart swelled with proud love at the idea
that I was still the one he needed to go to. Even if it had taken a
crisis situation for him to remember me.

Our silent communion lasted for hour-long minutes and we stood there,
on my threshold. We have a history of hallways.

Then he disentangled himself from my offered love and, without even
looking at me, rushed out of my life, away from me.

I remained stiff, still in awe of such a display, my skin electrified
from his touch. My own tears spiced my skin and I fooled myself into
hoping for more. He had came back to me. He would come back to me.

Only, not again for three, eternal long years.


*** ***


Clara sleeps as I watch the rain nourishing the earth. I shiver so I
bring the comforter closer to my skin. Doesn't help.

I hardly believe myself. I don't really know why I couldn't seek
comfort in Clara tonight. Holding Scully was...soothing. Her warm
little body snuggled against mine. Such an amazing experience. She
washed my pain away. I almost loved her then but I can't let go of my
resolutions now.

So I do what I have to do. What will set me free. I crawl back into
bed.

"Clara..."

"Hum?"

"Clara?"

"What? Some people do sleep, you know."

"Marry me."

Jesus, she's awake now. She sits up and reaches my face with her left
hand.

"You serious?"

"Marry me."

She smiles, strokes my cheek with her soft thumb and I have won my
rest.


*** ***


And there she walked. A perfect grace. She holds his hand and looks up
in his eyes. Full of promises.

Fucking wedding. I hate weddings. Rectify this, I don't dislike them
but I particularly loathe Fox Mulder's union to Clara Nolan.

"It should have been me" isn't singing in my head but it should.

And why on Earth did he invite my mother? But she loves him so she
couldn't refuse although she looked hurt. So my mother sits there, in
this church, softly crying over my aborted future. She does it because
I can't. People must think she is just sentimental but I'm no fool.

Walter Skinner is here too. His wife is with him and during the
ceremony, he asks for her consent then comes to me. I am not seated
because they asked me "bride or groom" and I said I didn't belong
there. I'm standing, my back against the farthest wall of the
building.

Skinner leans besides me and says nothing. I sigh and he surprises me
by taking hold of my tiny hand in his strong one. He knows. He brushes
my skin slowly and I almost cry. I lean into his bulky form for a
second, as a thank you. He strokes my hair and then goes back to
Sharon.

There was a time when Mulder would have burst out from repressed
jealousy at this sight. But now...


Clara is pretty in her tasteful champaign colored gown. She has tiny
white flowers in her hair and anybody else would look ridiculous but
she doesn't.

Mulder is the most gorgeous sight I have ever laid my eyes upon in his
black tuxedo. Shiny shoes and banana wide smile reflect his state of
mind. And the way his hair stands still, with only one wild lock
falling onto his forehead, it's eerie. I imagine it would taste of
chocolate in my mouth, soft, pliant and silky.  A guilty pleasure.

I had this crazy wish that Mulder would come ravish me the night
before his wedding. He would force himself in my apartment and on me.
His hard body would fuck me against the wall. And I would let him. And
after that, each time he would hold his wife, he would embrace me.
Each time he would kiss her, he would feel my lips. Each time he would
have sex with her, he would make love to me. Oh, of course, it was
just a wish.


Their hands are joined now and shine from the gold.

"You may now kiss the bride."

I have to get some fresh air.


I run out of the church, and like an idiot, I have to come back under
the porch because it's pouring out there. I feel I just stepped into
"Four weddings and a funeral." Except it's just Mulder's wedding and
my funeral.

I hear some ruffling noise and I know they're coming out. I quickly
attempt to compose myself.

Mulder steps out of the building, holding hands with his bride. And I
am the first thing he sees. His smile freezes and fortunately for both of us,
people surround Clara with congratulations and she doesn't notice.
Mulder's eyes are soft and I feel like holding my hand out to him as his
twitches towards me. Unfortunately, happy guests jostle him and the
connection is broken.

Goodbye, Mulder.


*** ***


I am scared and excited at the same time.

I feel the warmth of Clara by my side and the rest of the world is one
dizzy fur ball. I don't even know who's here or not but I know most of
the guests come from Clara's side.

We exchange our vows, then the rings. I'm so proud I can still stand
up on my cotton legs. Her smile holds me up. Then I kiss the bride.

In a haze, people laugh, clap and we exit the church.


And there she is. Her hair is frizzy and wet from the rain. Her eyes
are black and sorrowful. Time stops and the rumble is gone. There is
just us.

I want to hold out  my hand to her; make sure that she'll be okay, let
her know that I'll be alright. But I'm pushed aside by some joyous
guests.


It's the last image of her I have. I will keep it inside of me for a
long time.


*** ***


It's been exactly three years since the 25th of November. I've stopped
counting the days but I remember the anniversary.


"More tea, Dana?"

"No, thank you, Mom. I'm okay."

What's one more lie? My mother shakes her head and I know she doesn't
understand me. Doesn't understand why I'm still single after all this
time. No picket fenced house, no dog, no doctor of a husband. She
doesn't comprehend why I still dream of him.

She hates him because he walked away. I've never told her the truth
even though I know she believes Mulder and I were involved back then.
And that he broke my heart when he cheated on me. She just cannot grasp
it's this, and so much more. Mulder didn't have my body to betray.
Just my soul.


Two weeks after his wedding, Mulder asked for a reassignment. Field
office in Boston, closer to his mom. What a joke. The Mulder I knew
wouldn't have stood more than a day there. But it's been years. I
guess he must be in professional bliss. A least.

I've kept the X-Files open. I still have answers to find and to tell
the truth, I feel closer to him that way.

I accepted his transfer, wished him the best of luck for his new life
and watched him go. I must be have turned into a wimp because I didn't
fight for him. I smiled, said I would keep his nameplate as a souvenir
and almost pushed him out of the office.

Go away Mulder, go live a good life for the two of us. Go be happy.

I remember the first and only phone call we shared during all these
years.


*** ***


Of course, I needed to hear her voice. I had to call her but could
only resolve myself to do so after two months. The silences between us
were anvil heavy.

"Hello?"

"Scully?"

"Dana Scully speaking, yes." Professional always.

"It's me...Mulder." I don't know why but it seems she has forgotten
the tone of my voice.

"Oh, well, how have you been?"

"Good, I've been doing good. What about you?"

"..."

"Scully?" Too long a pause.

"Uh-huh, I've been great."

"Good. So, how's work?" God, why is it so hard?

"Exciting. The X-Files are fine, I've had challenging cases to work on
and my new partner is a gem." Swallow, Mulder, swallow. A gem. No more
spookiness. A gem.

"Ah, that's great, great. I didn't know you requested a new partner."
I can't help it.

"Well, a good F.B.I. agent needs someone to watch his back. And Robin
is extremely considerate and protective of me." Low blow, Scully.
Hurts.

"Yes, we all need that once in a while."

"Was there something you needed to tell me?" She's right, I need a
reason to call now.

"No, I..." She cuts me.

"Well, if you don't have anything important to tell me, I have work to
do." I don't know if I should strangle her or weep.

"Scully... I...I miss you." There. It's out.

"Goodbye, Mulder."

Just a click. Dead line.

"Bye, Scully," I whisper. I rest my chin on my arm and close my eyes.
This is so wrong. I miss her so much. Then Clara enters in the room
and I remember why I'm here.


*** ***


I replay this conversation and still wonder why I was so harsh to him.

"Because he had broken you heart, Dana. And you were just trying to
protect yourself."

I turn to look at my mom and I realized I've been talking out loud.

"Tell me, sweetie. Please, I need you to confide in me."

And I tell her the whole story. There isn't much to say really.


Afterwards, my mom remain silent. I can't help but thinking that she
is judging me.

"Dana, why didn't you tell him how you felt? It might have changed
everything!"

Easier said than done.

"You don't understand, mom. He should have known. Our trust in each
other ran so deep, he should have been aware of it."

"Love is blinding, sometimes. And you just can't see it even if it's
displayed right in front of you."

"Oh, he saw it okay when that slut dragged him to her bed." I can't
believe I just said that.

"Please, don't be bitter, honey."

I remain silent.

"I think you have mourned long enough. Go out, meet people, have some
fun, for Heaven's sake! You are not his widow."

I softly laugh at this. If only you knew, I'm dead inside. I mourn a
future I held in my hands and blew away. I'm so mad...at myself, at
him. At her.

"I don't think you realize, mom. It's over for me. There can't be
anybody else."

It' s a very strong statement and I know I've shocked her immensely.

"Dana, don't say that! You're young enough..."

"No, no, I'm not. But I'm not that unhappy, you know. My job is
holding me together. I have a good career to build."


"How is Agent Burns?"

"Robin? He's actually doing great. His wife is expecting again. He
wants me to be the child's godmother."

"It's very thoughtful of him."

"He's a good agent. I'm proud if his work."

"But...?" Mom, you know me too well.

"Well, he's not..." I close my eyes.


*** ***


Three years. Three years of waking up next to Clara. Sharing a
bathroom and a coffee pot at breakfast. Three years of sharing a
postal address, of going out with mutual friends, of nice lovemaking.

I turned forty in her arms. She still has nine years to catch up with
me. Clara is growing prettier everyday. She took a good position at
Borders downtown, and found herself reading books all the time because
she loves being able to give advise to her customers. She always liked
human contact.

My work is...okay. The challenge is less but it is safe. That's all
Clara asked from me. That's all I've ever wanted. I'm in peace at
last.

When my mother was doing fine, she hoped for grandchildren.
"Anytime soon", she made me promise. Now, she's gone. Rest in peace,
Mother.
I never expected children, considering... But I would be elated to
become a father. Clara is still on the pill. I don't think she is
ready yet. But I am. I remember how deeply I had wanted another woman's
child a few years ago. And how desperate I was because she couldn't
conceive.


I've heard twice from Samantha. Time is helping us growing closer. As
it drew Scully and me apart.

Scully.

I miss her. Everyday created by this Universe, I miss her. I didn't
think it would be that hard in the beginning. Every petite figure I
see, she floats back in my head. Clara lets me zone out like this and
I'm grateful she doesn't ask questions. She tolerates that I had a
life before her, as I do with her.

Funny, the relationship I have with Clara. No passion, but security.
No challenge but cuddling. I have come to trust her with my heart. She
is sweet and good to me. She never hurt me, and I never will.

Or so I thought.


*** ***

TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (6/10)


"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to..."

"Oh, stop it Robin, your singing is... downright awful." I tease but
my smile is genuine. And he knows it.

"Happy Birthday, old Dana."

"Watch it."

I remember another birthday, a long time ago. Another small cake,
another candle to blow.

"You know, Robin?" He raises an eyebrow at me. Good man.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm happy with your work."

I must have struck him blind because he needs to sit down.

"Why, thank you partner."

"You're welcome. Partner."


I sigh. I've been surviving without him.


*** ***


"No, but yes, yes, I told you that... Uh-huh...sure." I try to manage
this conversation, the cordless phone stuck between my neck and my
shoulder as I move around big stacks of folders. I go through our
drawers and frankly, I'm amazed at all the clutter marital life
accumulates. I hate this spring cleaning, especially the
administrative papers, but somebody has to do it.

"I'll put that in my report. No problem."

Then, I find it.

Oh.

My.

God.

"Hum, I gotta run. I'll get back to you on this, okay? Yes, sure.
Bye."

I hold the brochures in my hand, disbelieving. Inside, I find an
appointment card and tests results. From last October. A few days
after my birthday. I shake my head and can't believe what she has
done. I sit on the couch and wait for her to come home.


"Hey, Fox, why don't I smell anything good coming from the kitchen,"
she teases. "Fox? Where are you?"

She enters the living room of our small Brookline house. She finds me
there, and the sight startles her. Guess I must look as mad as I feel.

"Care to explain this?" I throw the brochures at her. The papers fall
ungraciously to the floor.

She gasps.

"Fox, I..." She covers her mouth with one hand. Her eyes betray the
panic of a deer caught in headlights.

I raise my voice, as well as my body. I tower over her.

"Did you go through with it? Did you? When was it, that week-end you
went down to visit your parents?"

"Fox, please, don't be mad..."

"Oh, sure, why should I be mad? I fucking trusted you! You, bitch!"
I'm furious, and godammit, it is my right to be mad.

She loses her balance and falls to the floor; she sits there, sobbing.
I have all the answers that I need. I leave her and run to our
bedroom. I grab a few clothes and go back to the living-room, looking
for my shoes and wallet.

She is there, in the hall. She leans on the wall and her ankles are
twisted. Her neck seems to hurt as she frowns hard in distress. She's
still crying.

I have no compassion towards her whatsoever.

"Fox... Hear me out. Please."

Her voice is a whisper. The last thing I hear before I'm out of there.


*** ***


I can't stop crying. The salt irritates my cheeks, but what do I care?
It should have remained the only secret I would ever keep from him.

I knew that trust is the essential basis for all of Fox's
relationships. But you can count his friends on one hand. He doesn't
give his trust easily. I'm not even sure I ever had it.

Such an awful mistake, destroying my marriage like you can clasp your
fingers. God, I call that a mistake! I must be heartless. I was at the
time I did it; feeling simply devastated. And I wasn't ready. It never
occurred to me that Fox could have wanted it this much.

But, Fuck it! He deserves to suffer for the crap I had to put through
the last few months. I never really had all of him although I gave him
all of me.

I can only weep now. So I sob, cry, throw my fists against the walls.


*** ***


My driving to her place is...erratic. Thanks to the guy who invented
donuts that actually distract cops from chasing after lights-burning
mad crazed drivers like me.

I park right in front of her building, and it's stupid but I don't
even take the time to compose myself a decent face. I just need to see
her. Feel her. Smell her. Hell, I just need to think there is somebody
on this Earth I can trust with all of my heart. I'm not even sure
she's the right one anymore. But I want to believe.

I also want to dig myself a hole big enough...or crawl inside a mouse
lair and die... I want to crawl in Scully's lair.


Voices can be heard through the door and for the fist time in hours I
realized that years have passed. She has a life I'm not the center of
anymore. Who the fuck do I think I am? I've never been the sun of her
universe. I was the dark side of the moon.

Hell, I knock.

"Hi," I lamely say as the door opens.

"Oh," the woman says. Then, "It's been quite some time." Her features
are soft and she is still beautiful. Warm memories of her flood me.

"I don't want to intrude. I've come here to see..."

"I know, come on in." She's inviting me in. More than I hoped.

"Thank you, Mrs Scully."

"Dana is in the kitchen. I'll go get..." But she stops at mid-turn.

Scully stiffly stands in the middle of her living-room, a spatula
covered with red sauce in hand, an inscrutable look painted on her
delicate face. Blue grows wide and there isn't even the faintest trace
of a smile on her lips. Fuck.

"Hi," I manage. So much for Oxford-educated conversation.

Mrs. Scully hints at her daughter that she should leave but red hair
shakes no. Scully glances at me sideways. Fuck, fuck, triple fuck.
Hell has just frozen. Tell me why I'm here again?

I stand in the hallway and Scully comes closer but still not at arms
length. She radiates beauty, more now than ever. Or maybe it has just
been a long time. It would take more than a lifetime for me to forget
her freckled face and she often visits my dreams. Her hair floats like
a gray cloud and I clutch at her chest. It's not such a good idea to
go there now.


"Why are you here?" Trust Scully to be blunt.

"Something...I need to talk to you about." Geez, I can usually form
elaborate sentences. She holds her stare high and piercing.

"About work?"

"No. I... It's, it's personal." God, I'm pathetic.

"I think you should leave." I deserve this. From the other end of the
room, I can feel Mrs. Scully tense.

"Scully..."

"Now."

I feel my hand was just caught in the cookie jar. Except that here, it
won't be just a slap on the wrist. Her icy refusal of even pronouncing
my name is a potential life threatening injury.

"I..."

"You have no business being here. Just go."

I can't even shoot her my best puppy look. That boyish expression that
used to get me anywhere, mainly out of Scully-trouble. I invented the
puppy eyes and she invented the raised eyebrow. It was a game.
Tonight, she won't play.

She's shutting me out and God knows I can't blame her for that. I
performed the ultimate ditch on her three years ago. I'm paying for my
foolishness now.

So I just leave and as I turn my back on her and open the door, I hear
her sigh. I replay that sigh in my head all the way down to my car.

I'll wait, Scully.


*** ***

TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (7/10)


The bastard's got some nerve.

My mother looks at me and waits.

"All right, just say it."

"Dana, did you take a good look at him? It's obvious that he drove
down from Boston. Did you see his eyes?"

"So what?" I can be so obnoxious sometimes I could slap my own cheek.
But I've always been good at protecting myself.

"He hurts. Badly. Something terrible happened to him and he came here
for your help."

I can't refrain from lashing out.

"And I should just do what? Take him in? Patch him up like I used to
do? Well, excuse me but I do recall that you were the one telling me
to move on. And I did."

Of course, my whole face, even my body language must contradict what I
just lied. I want to run after him but I won't. I can't anymore. Let
him suffer like he did me.

My mother shakes her head and strolls back to the kitchen. I
helplessly slump on my couch, bring my cold fingers up to my eyes and
vainly try to appease the pounding in my temples.

I love him.


My mother left after dinner and I'm glad she didn't bring this up
again. But she evidently was burning to reprimand me. She only wants
what's good for me, but Christ, she has the worse timing with her
counseling.

I lie on my couch, tuck the afghan over me and try to sleep.


Saturdays are always hard on me. No work to concentrate on. I don't
see many people on week-ends, sometimes don't even speak not anybody
but the occasional store-clerks. Loneliness creeps inside my bones
very easily.

Today, I'm gonna go to the gym and sweat out my repressed anger at
Mulder. I can't believe he just showed up like that. Totally out of
the blue and needy nonetheless. So fucked up. He never did need me
when he was all right. Only when in utter despair. Doctor Scully was
always required to patch patient Mulder's soul. Right.

I leave half of my bowl of cereal sitting there, on the counter. I'm
not that hungry. I grab my car keys, duffel and coat and I'm out.


As I exit my building and sniff the fresh air, trying to remember
exactly where I parked last night, I see him. Well, his head anyway.
Idiot. He must be freezing.

I cross the street to evaluate the damage. He's sound asleep, sitting
in his car. His window is rolled open all the way down and his
shoulder leans on it, his sleepy head covering his arm. I slightly
touch the tip of his nose. Moron. He is indeed frozen.

The debate between my evil self and the doctor in me is quite short.

"Mulder...Wake up. Mulder? Come on, stupid. Wake up!" I shake his body
and slowly, he comes back from la-la-land. According to the subtle
beard he wears, this imbecile waited for me all night. His eyes look
up at me.

God, I still love him.


*** ***


I don't exactly know how it happened, but I find myself sitting in
Scully's kitchen, a blanket that smells like her tucked around me, a
cup of coffee in hand.

She sits on the other side of the table, leaning back in the chair,
her arms crossed over her chest. And she just waits.

Hot coffee slowly replaces cold in my veins. I don't know how to tell
her this. So I just do it, bluntly.

"She killed it."

Must have been miles away from what she expected me to say because she
frowns, her eyes wide and she slightly bends her head to the side.
She's ready for me to tell more. And I spill my guts. It's easy,
they've been in my throat since last night. I feel tears threatening
to flood.

"She killed our baby, Scully. It's gone. Gone." Christ, it's hard. My
head falls in my hands for support.

I hear a ruffle of clothes and I feel her standing next to me. No
touch though. Her voice is soft.

"Was she careless? Did she leave him...unattended?"

I repress a sob. "She got a fucking abortion! That's what she did! She
took a fucking appointment and she killed our child!" I yell at the
top of my lungs now. Scully must be scared because she backs away.

I get up and begin pacing around the kitchen. Scully stays put, her
back leaning on the counter. I can't meet her eyes yet.

"I didn't even know she was pregnant. I have nothing against abortion,
Scully, it's part of our rights but...Fuck! It was my child and I
didn't know! How could she make such a decision without telling me! It
wasn't a fucking one night stand, we're married, for God's sake!" I
don't think I've ever sworn that much in my entire life. I sit back
down on the chair in defeat then raise my eyes up to Scully's, begging
for understanding.

"I wanted a baby so badly..." I manage to say between two sobs. "So
badly, Scully..."

"I know, Mulder, I know what it feels like."

And I realize that she does. My wife has an abortion and who do I go
to pour my heart out and whine like a sissy? A women who cannot bear
children. I must be the most insensitive asshole on this Earth.

"I'm sorry, Scully. I know you do."

She leaves the room for a minute and I miss her instantly. She comes
back with a tissue and takes a seat besides me. It's gonna be a long
day.


*** ***

TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (8/10)


What has Mulder done to deserve such suffering in his life? What have
I done to be a part of it?

I can't believe that bitch stabbed him this way. Mulder has always
been protective of children. Partly because of his lost sister but
also because he is genuinely found of them. That was proven to me more
than once on cases. And then there was Emily. I never considered that
Mulder could have had a problem with me being barren. But he genuinely
shared my pain.

How could that slut have carried a part of him inside her and get rid
of it? What could possibly be wrong in her mind? In her heart?

Maybe there wasn't such bliss in their marriage after all. I have to
ask.

"Mulder, how was your relationship...with her?" I can't bear saying
her name and I'm not sure Mulder could stand it either. He looks at me
in the eye for the first time.

"Good. We trusted each other. Or so I thought." I don't know if he
realize how cruel his words are to me. So he trusted her. For the
longest time, I thought I was the only one to hold the key to Mulder's
ability to trust.

"Are you mad because she betrayed your trust?"

"No, I'm mad because of the baby that will never be..." He closes his
eyes and he is sincere.

"Do you have any idea why she did this? Not telling you?" He doesn't
need my answers. He has to find his own.

"No... I guess she wasn't ready. She's been taking the pill since we
met and it was okay because we were both clean, and you know how they
make you take those blood tests before your get married and...we were
okay and..." God, he's rambling. His head rests on his forearm, laying
on the kitchen table. His face is turned towards me.

"Mulder..."

"After a while, I told her we didn't need birth control because...we
would see where it would take us and I put my trust in her. She said
she wasn't ready yet. She wanted to wait a few years, wait until we'll
be settled and sure of our situation and stupid excuses like that..."

I can't resolve myself to touch him to ground him like I want to so I
just nod.

"I thought she was ready. I was. I guess pills aren't exactly the most
secure control. Or I don't know..." His voice has a strange tone. God!

"You don't think she...Are you sure the baby was yours?" I don't want
to be rude but... And he closes his eyes.

"Yes, I'm sure. There is no way she could have done that."

"Like there is no way she could have terminated her pregnancy?" Sorry
for playing with your mind, Mulder.

He remains silent.


"Why did you come to me?"

He looks at me puzzled, as if I have asked him "why is the sky blue
and why does the sun shine". It used to be evident but it isn't
anymore.

"You were the only one I thought of." He swallows hard and his answer
satisfies me enough to prevent me from going deeper into this.

"Did you ask her to explain? What did she say?"

"I... I was angry when I left. I didn't listen to her. I just wanted
to come to you and forget about her."

He wanted to come to me. Come to me. To me. Oh, Mulder... Then, I make
one of the hardest decision of my entire life.

"You have to go back to her. She is probably devastated, Mulder. Go
back to her." I have his full attention now. He looks at me as if I
have just grown a second head.

"Are you saying I should go comfort her? If she's in pain now, she
deserves it. I don't give a fuck."

"You have to hear her out. Ask for her reasons. Calm down and try to
understand why she did this and why she didn't think she could talk to
you about it."

"You don't understand, she..."

"I do understand, Mulder. But she is your wife. She made a mistake but
still, at least, give her a chance to explain herself." How can I be
so calm, blatantly lying to him and willing to strangle the bitch, I
don't know.

"So you think I overreacted? Fucking overreacted? You call that a
*mistake*? She KILLED OUR CHILD, Scully! You of all people should know
how that hurts."

Yes, I do and I don't need you to throw into my face that you married
somebody else and conceived a child with her. Twice in one day. Fuck
you, selfish bastard.

"This discussion is over. Go back to Boston to pick up the pieces."


And I leave him there. I close the door of my bedroom and as I
suspected, he doesn't follow me. I let myself fall heavily on the bed
and close my eyes.

A minute later, I hear the front door being slammed. I won't cry. I
won't cry. I won't cry.

Mulder is a psychologist. A good one, except when it concerns people
close to him. He was lost today and he came to me for answers. I'm no
shrink but I tried the best I could.

So why does it feel like I've failed? Why couldn't I just tell him
what I really thought? Why did I have to lie to him to set him
straight? How could I send him back to her!


*** ***


It's been hardly twenty-four hours since it happened. A lifetime has
washed over me. As if I had never left her. Still precious and wise.

I had my reasons to leave Scully; today I had one to find her. I don't
think I'll need more to go back to her.

I feel dizzy. I guess that's what happen to people when they discover
that their body has been married to someone for three years but their
soul belong to someone else.

I am the one who made THE fucking mistake. Back to square one.


As I drive through Connecticut and totally ignore the landscape, I
wonder again and again why I am going back to Boston.

Because Scully told me so and she's rarely wrong. Because I need to
know why my wife didn't love me enough to tolerate my life inside of
her.

Anyway, I drive.


When I enter what I thought of as our home, the quietness is roaring
in my brain. Half a bag of nachos lie on the kitchen counter and the
living room is empty. I go in our bedroom, where we most probably
conceived the life that won't grow.

She is curled up on the bed, over the comforter. Her feet are bare and
she must be cold. The floor is an impressive battlefield, strewn with
tissues. A reminder that she does suffer, eaten by her conscience
maybe. I don't know if she feels remorse, regrets or if it was just
another formality for her. As much as she is my wife, I don't know
her. And she doesn't know me.

She stirs and I sit at the edge of the bed. Her eyes flutter open and
she begs. Silently. I nod.

"I'm sorry, Fox... So sorry... I didn't mean for you to find out this
way..."

I try to keep my voice steady and it's a shame I didn't major in
Drama.

"I don't want excuses. I want answers."

She hesitates.

"I wasn't ready. I thought you were not ready. I panicked. I'm
not...I've never liked children very much. Maybe it's because I'm an
only child. Or because I couldn't stand such a responsibility... Who
the hell knows?"

"You do. Only you." There, we're talking, I'm giving her a chance. Be
proud, Scully.

"There are other reasons... I can't talk about them right now. I need
time, Fox. I need to find my pace."

"Sure, whatever." I couldn't care less at this precise moments. I have
all the answers I needed. I realize she means next to nothing to me.

"I won't ask you to forgive me." You could swear her tone is begging
for it though. "But don't shut me out. I will explain. We will get
through this." Her eyes appear misty with sincerity but I've seen too
many lies in this lifetime to be fooled.

She comes closer to me and I flinch at her presence. She attempts to
touch my arm but I push back too quickly to hide my repulsion.

So she slowly gets out of bed and locks herself in the bathroom. I
hear her move in there, vainly trying to raise the sound of the shower
to hide her sobs.


I go to the study room, boot my computer and write to Scully.


*** ***

TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (9/10)


I stare at the email icon, wondering if I will open the message or
not. Curious Scully will kick my butt if I do not, but Logical Scully
will if I do so. Hum. I'm an investigator after all.

{Dear Scully,
{I've made it back in one piece, which knowing me says it all.

I can't help but smiling at this. He still uses the same defense
mechanism. People say being married transforms you deeply. Well, not
everyone I assume.

{She was waiting for me and offered very little explanation. She said
she needs to wait, to {take it slow until she can reveal to me the
meaning of her actions.
{What she is going to drop on my head now? Hell, I might even be
responsible for all this.

Mulder, Mulder... She's buying herself time.

{I think she's trying to gain some time for God knows which reason.

I smile again. I haven't lost it that much.

{I can't touch her and even being in the same room with her makes me
shiver. I don't know if {it'll pass.
{I know people can sometimes be cruel towards the ones they love and
then be forgiven.

{Have you forgiven me?

{Mulder.


A tear drop hits the keyboard but the computer doesn't go havoc. I
wipe the other ones before they leave my face.


*** ***

This whole week has been one terrible disaster. I've been an ass to my
colleagues and totally useless on the field.

I keep reading, and re-reading her reply.

{Dear Mulder,

She hasn't shot me yet, it's a good sign.

{I think you are right, she is buying time. How long she will actually
have is your choice.
{Don't think that she does not suffer because she does. No woman would
give up her child {without a bleeding twitch inside her heart.

She wants to rationalize this. It's good that she does because I
can't.

{I will be here if you need advice or simply to talk.
{I haven't forgiven you. But I'm working on it.

{Scully.


I haven't been able to answer this yet. I'm shaken to the core. She
resents me still and there is no one to blame but myself.


I share my home with another human being but I've never felt so alone.
She blends in the furniture and I only see her as a blur. I take no
notice of her when she enters a room and I rejoice in the fact that
she is oblivious of me as well.

Alright, she doesn't truly ignores me. She even often mutely asks for
a second chance. I see it in the flickers that lighten her eyes each
time I turn towards her. It's like her whole body needs to reach to me
but I remain alone, unreachable in the isolated tower I've built.

I will not give her the satisfaction of a single hint of my interest
in her suffering.


*** ***


So it's been almost a week now since I've seen Mulder. It took him two
days to answer my last email. I hurt him on purpose. I got no pleasure
out of it but if he wants to be forgiven, he needs to forgive himself
first.


{Dear Scully,
{She is like a ghost and I don't see her.
{I don't know if this is a good thing but I don't miss her.
{I miss you.

If I was a teenager, I would jump around and quip little screams,
girlie screams. But I am an adult, so I just smile and try to dismiss
the warm thoughts invading my mind. And the slight shiver down my
spine.

{I don't wear my ring anymore.

Shivers, again.

{This whole charade is not going anywhere.
{Nowhere, Scully.

{Mulder.

My friend is slowly coming back to me.


*** ***

I came home last night and Clara was waiting for me. Simply sitting at
the kitchen table, her chin high, her eyes dry.

"Fox, sit down."

"Don't order me around."

I won't give her a break but the "please" she grants me forces me to
sit down.

"Fox, I..." I wish she wouldn't call me that. She hands me some
folders. "We should get a divorce."

No earthquake, no stab in the heart. Just fate.

"Okay." I almost whisper. I lean back and exhale loudly.

"Okay, okay..." she hisses. "Is that all this does to you? Fuck, I was
right. I was so right!"

"About what?"

"The way you look at all the petite women. The whispers of her name at
night." She raises her voice. "The moments you zone out and all the
fucking times you called me "Scully" when you climaxed!"

"What?" I can't believe my ears!

"You heard me! Why couldn't you tell her? Why did you have to marry me
and make all of us, her, you and me miserable? Fucking blind moron!"

I just look at her, indeed like a fucking moron. I call out Scully's
name when I come? No way! I don't! That's insane. Well, I did think
about her before, let's say, in private, but with my wife? God!

"Clara, I never did that." I look in her eyes and it's so clear my
guilt trip is back, rush hour. "Tell me I never did that..." I ask
softly.

Her expression is unreadable but she doesn't seems as angry as she
was.

"Oh, Jesus... you have no idea, do you?" She pauses. "You don't
realize that's it's been her."

She's right. It's always been her. I feel nothing but repulsion and
disgust at myself right now. I cradle my forehead in my palms. The
light still hurts my brain.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, Clara."

"You were sincere when we got married. That I'm sure of," she offers.

"But it wasn't enough," I flatly state.

"No, it wasn't. Fox, I... I thought that as the years went by, you
would learn to love me. You would forget for a while that you're in
love with her."

"Clara..."

"Let me finish, please. I am not saying this to blame you or to clear
my conscience. I want you to know this because of the state of
insecurity I was in when it... happened. The night I learnt I was
pregnant, I had mixed feelings about this. I wasn't ready for a child,
I even wasn't sure my own husband loved me, for Heaven's sake... I had
no idea how to share this new secret with you."

I remain silent and she is relieved I'm letting her go on.

"That same night, we made love and you moaned her name." Her eyes are
now bathed in unshed tears. "You were inside me, Fox, thrusting and
loving me and you... you... I called the clinic the morning after."

Wicked how destiny twist things so that I'm actually responsible for
any single event that surrounds me. Master of guilt. I'm sure I'm
partially responsible for the bug of the year 2000 that crashed
computers last year. For all the good I was doing to those poor
machines at the time. Look out for me in the news if a third World War
is declared.

Then I realize what she could have done, but didn't. And I mentally
thank her for that, only I say it out loud.

"Thanks for not bribing me into staying with a child..."

Her wistful, quiet little smile calms the situation.

"I'm not a bad person, you know. I had reasons, bad ones maybe. God
knows it was a tough choice. But seeing the turn of events, I don't
regret it. I want children. But I want them to have a father dedicated
to them and their mother."

"I'm sorry I caused you pain this way. We're just people, with their
flaws and uncertainties."

So easy to say that. So hard to live it.

We can look each other in the eye now. It isn't so hard suddenly.

"Monday, we'll file for a divorce."

I nod.


*** ***

TOGETHER APART
by Lili Blue (10/10)


He didn't email me today. I crave those letters. A single line from
him actually makes my day. I'm pathetic. Hanging on to every word of a
man I can't even dare to call. I miss those words especially at night,
when I've come to silently sing them as lullabies.


My cellphone rings and darn it! I almost fall out of bed to get it
from the inside pocket of the wool suit jacket I had carelessly thrown
on the armchair. Once again admiring my skills as a gymnast, I finally
extract the noisy object and press "on".

"Scully?"

I'm dreaming, that's it. My mobile just talked to me in my sleep.

"Scully, are you there? Scully?"

"Scully, are you okay?"

"Mulder?"

"Yeah, hi. Sorry. Did I wake you?"

I'm glad you did.

"Not, it's all right. Why..."

"I wanted to hear your voice. I have something to tell you and the
email seemed a little... impersonal."

"Sure..." I don't trust my voice anymore. My skeptical, rational
sense, tells me it's our last and final call. He is going to tell me
he forgave her and they are already working on creating new
uber-Mulders. Why couldn't you stick to emails, Mulder?

"I got divorced today, Scully."

Oh.

"Scully?"

Ah.

"Scully, you there? Scully? Scully? God, what's wrong with this damn
line..."

"I'm here." My weak voice cuts in before he turns off the connection.

"Clara and I are officially separated. Mutual agreement."

"Ah." Great Dana. You've just turned into an idiot savant,
monosyllabic vocabulary holder.

"It wasn't really bad, you know. We cleared some things out and there
we are."

"So you're... divorced." Those investigative skills of mine never
cease to amaze me.

"Free as a bird," Mulder says, but not too joyfully.

"Where are you gonna stay?" Like that's of some importance. Well, it
is. I do have an extra room. Damn, I wish I didn't have it actually.
The offer would still stand.

"Clara is keeping the house. She's keeping most things actually, I
never cared much for material belongings, you know me."

So I thought.  I have to ask.

"Will you remained assigned to Boston?"

He hesitates. That's a very, very good thing.

"What do you think I should do? The work here isn't bad but I'm not
sure it will hold it for me any longer now. There is nothing left for
me here."

"But your mom..."

"Oh, Scully, didn't I tell you? My mother passed away...hum... a year
an a half ago."

Oh, Mulder...

"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"How could you? It's not like we've been even sending each other
Christmas cards those past years." His voice is devoid of bitterness,
just plain facts.

"Not exactly, you're right. But I'm still sad and sorry for your
loss."

"Scully, I may be blunt but I have something to ask you."

This is just like my Mulder. Needing permission to be abrupt. Lovable
man.

"Sure."

"Do you want me back in D.C.?"

"Huh?" Like I don't know what he means.

"Do you want me to come back to you?" Blunt that is.

"Yes." So low I'm afraid he hasn't heard me. "Yes. Come back. I miss
you." I'm on a roll and nothing could stop me. "I've missed you all
these years, I longed for every second we didn't share. Come, Mulder,
come back as soon as you can. Fly, drive, run, just do it... Come
back."

I'm out of breath from this confession. He is silent and this uncalled
pause gets on my nerves.

"Mulder?"

"Scully?"

"We still have work to do on those communication techniques, don't we?
Did you..."

"Yes, I heard you," he cut me. "I'll ask for a reassignment on Monday.
Aware of some career opportunities in D.C., Scully?"

"I'll ask around," I say and I bet her can hear my smile through the
handset.

"Good, you do that."

And he turns off his phone. Mulder and I have shared some of the
strangest conversations heard on this Earth but this was definitely
one of the most awkward. Awkward is good.


*** ***

What have I done to deserve her?

Not much lately. Of course, I had my moments. Saving her life, caring
for her, trying to offer her all the support I could.

Until it ate me alive and I couldn't stand it. I'm not trying to
justify my actions. I took a path and I was wrong, I concede.

I have to learn to be unselfish. Fortunately, tomorrow, I'm going back
to the greatest teacher on this planet.

Scully's declaration of need and, let's face it, of love, re-opened my
heart to extreme possibilities.

I am one lucky bastard. And in love.


*** ***


Today is not really the greatest day. The sun isn't shining and the
birds aren't singing. So much for romance under a sunset.

Today, Mulder is coming back to D.C. He said he'd be there around six
or so. Just like him to have picked out a such stormy day to re-enter
my life. I couldn't care less about the constantly falling droplets
that make my hair smell like a wet dog. I still sit outside my
building, staring hard at each car coming around the bend.

I have had time to think about all that happened between us, from him
slipping out of my life to his needy comeback, a few weeks ago.

The unrequited love that never left me through years of solitude. This
capacity to soften all the blows I took, like a beaten wife forgives
her husband.

Mulder and I aren't alike. We don't share the same beliefs, we come
from different backgrounds. The are no words to explain the bond we
once shared. I guess I could overanalyze this, and pinpoint the exact
moment I fell in love with him. But it simply is impossible.

He risked his sanity and his life to save me. And more than once. I
should be grateful. This doesn't justify love.

He respected me, professionally and personally, and taught me more
than I could hope. This doesn't justify love.

So what does? A chemical reaction? A mellowing of the brain?


I don't have the answer and I won't give it more thought because
strands of brown hair through a car's window catch my sight.

Physical, yes. My heart pounds so hard it resonates down to each
little vein of my entire body.

Mental, sure. I concentrate all my neurons on the right thing to say
but as he pulls over, then exits his car, all I could think of
is...not much.

Rain pours down on him, hard, as if a malicious cloud was just
hovering above him and him alone. If I was twenty years older, I'd
felt I've just stepped into "The Bridges of Madison County" and
fucking Clint Eastwood was waiting for me to go to him.

And he is. Mulder leans against the hood and actually waits. So what,
now? Should I run? Should I motion him to come in?

I don't rush. I slowly walk to him and his body language whispers to
me he is ready to take me in. We don't even look at each other in the
eye. No need. We know.

I just melt in his embrace, his strong arms hold me so tight I can
feel the buttons of his shirt imprinting my skin through my sweater.

His fingers remain still, one hand on the swell of my waist and the
other buried in my hair, as I nuzzle my face in the damp, warm crook
of his neck. His smell exudes his need, male and arousing. We both
sigh with pleasure.


Welcome home, Mulder.


FIN.