Untitled WIP
TITLE: Untitled (WIP)
AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: FTF, FTF deleted scene, through S6&7
RATING: 12
PAIRING: Mulder/Scully
WORD COUNT: 800
SUMMARY: When Mulder realises what it is that he wants, how long will it take him to get it?
DISCLAIMER: CC and co. wrote all this, I'm just filling in the blanks.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the prologue and opening scene of a longish fic I'm writing for a friend. It's based on the deleted hallway scene from FTF and will progress through S6 and most of S7. I've got about 3000 words in total so far, with notes for the bits I haven't written yet, but it's all kinda disjointed, so I thought I'd post this here to get a feel for what you guys think. Comments and feedback are more than welcome.
He follows her out of the door into the dark hallway.
“If you wanna tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience you can, but you’re wrong.”
She turns, facing him down in the dark corridor and he wonders how it’s come to this; at loggerheads in an empty hallway while those who have systematically shut them down, divided them, made their lives hell, rest easy in their panelled rooms,
“Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder?” Her voice is resigned and he wonders if this time he's pushed her too far. “To debunk your work, to rein you in, to shut you down.”
“But you’ve saved me. As, as difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes your goddamn strict rationalism and science has saved me a thousand times over. You’ve kept me honest. You made me a whole person. I owe you everything. Scully, and you owe me nothing.”
She looks away but not before he can see the emotion in her eyes and he makes himself go on. Makes himself say the words no matter how much they may hurt her; hurt him. He hasn’t been this honest with someone in so long, but he needs to be honest with her if he’s going to keep her from walking away.
“I don’t know if I wanna do this alone. I don’t even know if I can. And if I quit now, they win.”
She stares up at him as a tear trickles down her face and steps towards him, circling his back with her small hands. He wraps his arms around her and breathes in the scent of her hair, and thinks that he can’t lose her this time. She slides her hand around the back of his skull and pulls his head down to meet her lips, gently placing a kiss on his forehead before resting hers against his. It feels like they stay that way for hours and he doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want her to walk away and leave him alone, again.
With that thought echoing in his mind (I need you Scully, I need you. I can’t lose you this time, can’t let you walk away from me. I can’t let them win), he places his hands on either side of her face and stares into her eyes. Her skin is silk beneath his fingers and he strokes her cheek with the pad of his thumb feeling the smooth skin below.
He isn’t sure who makes the first move but somehow he is leaning towards her and she is leaning towards him and he wonders if this is really happening, if he is really losing his partner the moment he realises that he loves her, and then her lips are on his and all he can think of is how soft her lips feel.
He wraps his arms around her back and she locks her fingers behind his head and her tongue is urgent against his. They explore each other’s mouths in the dark hallway, the taste of her tongue and her weight in his arms fighting for room in his brain which can only think of how small her mouth is how perfectly it fits against his and…
* * * *
And she jumped into his arms, was his first thought on waking, and for a few seconds his eyes devoured the room, expecting to find her lying in bed next to him or returning, glistening skin dripping, from the shower. Of course it was just a dream. She was nothing more than his (albeit) beautiful partner and the weight of her in his arms and the taste of her tongue nothing more than his futile mind wandering towards the conclusions his body could never reach.
Mulder rolled over and sighed, breath exhaling in a whoosh between his lips. Since returning from Antarctica, both of them safe, he had been having these (dreams? hopes? fantasies?) thoughts. Scully invaded his dreams every night, the sight of her tear stained face as he refused to let her walk away from him lingering in his memory.
It was the result of the stress they’d suffered, he told himself and almost made himself believe it. People go through situations like this, they get closer than they already were (and he and Scully had been very close, that treacherous voice in his mind reminded him) and they start imagining things. Things they couldn’t possibly want in real life. Things that would make things very awkward in real life (he ignored the voice that asked him since when had he worried about things being very awkward in real life). Things that just couldn’t happen.
But he couldn’t get rid of the dreams, and he wasn’t even sure that he wanted to.
AUTHOR: memories_child
SPOILERS: FTF, FTF deleted scene, through S6&7
RATING: 12
PAIRING: Mulder/Scully
WORD COUNT: 800
SUMMARY: When Mulder realises what it is that he wants, how long will it take him to get it?
DISCLAIMER: CC and co. wrote all this, I'm just filling in the blanks.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the prologue and opening scene of a longish fic I'm writing for a friend. It's based on the deleted hallway scene from FTF and will progress through S6 and most of S7. I've got about 3000 words in total so far, with notes for the bits I haven't written yet, but it's all kinda disjointed, so I thought I'd post this here to get a feel for what you guys think. Comments and feedback are more than welcome.
He follows her out of the door into the dark hallway.
“If you wanna tell yourself that so you can quit with a clear conscience you can, but you’re wrong.”
She turns, facing him down in the dark corridor and he wonders how it’s come to this; at loggerheads in an empty hallway while those who have systematically shut them down, divided them, made their lives hell, rest easy in their panelled rooms,
“Why did they assign me to you in the first place, Mulder?” Her voice is resigned and he wonders if this time he's pushed her too far. “To debunk your work, to rein you in, to shut you down.”
“But you’ve saved me. As, as difficult and as frustrating as it’s been sometimes your goddamn strict rationalism and science has saved me a thousand times over. You’ve kept me honest. You made me a whole person. I owe you everything. Scully, and you owe me nothing.”
She looks away but not before he can see the emotion in her eyes and he makes himself go on. Makes himself say the words no matter how much they may hurt her; hurt him. He hasn’t been this honest with someone in so long, but he needs to be honest with her if he’s going to keep her from walking away.
“I don’t know if I wanna do this alone. I don’t even know if I can. And if I quit now, they win.”
She stares up at him as a tear trickles down her face and steps towards him, circling his back with her small hands. He wraps his arms around her and breathes in the scent of her hair, and thinks that he can’t lose her this time. She slides her hand around the back of his skull and pulls his head down to meet her lips, gently placing a kiss on his forehead before resting hers against his. It feels like they stay that way for hours and he doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want her to walk away and leave him alone, again.
With that thought echoing in his mind (I need you Scully, I need you. I can’t lose you this time, can’t let you walk away from me. I can’t let them win), he places his hands on either side of her face and stares into her eyes. Her skin is silk beneath his fingers and he strokes her cheek with the pad of his thumb feeling the smooth skin below.
He isn’t sure who makes the first move but somehow he is leaning towards her and she is leaning towards him and he wonders if this is really happening, if he is really losing his partner the moment he realises that he loves her, and then her lips are on his and all he can think of is how soft her lips feel.
He wraps his arms around her back and she locks her fingers behind his head and her tongue is urgent against his. They explore each other’s mouths in the dark hallway, the taste of her tongue and her weight in his arms fighting for room in his brain which can only think of how small her mouth is how perfectly it fits against his and…
* * * *
And she jumped into his arms, was his first thought on waking, and for a few seconds his eyes devoured the room, expecting to find her lying in bed next to him or returning, glistening skin dripping, from the shower. Of course it was just a dream. She was nothing more than his (albeit) beautiful partner and the weight of her in his arms and the taste of her tongue nothing more than his futile mind wandering towards the conclusions his body could never reach.
Mulder rolled over and sighed, breath exhaling in a whoosh between his lips. Since returning from Antarctica, both of them safe, he had been having these (dreams? hopes? fantasies?) thoughts. Scully invaded his dreams every night, the sight of her tear stained face as he refused to let her walk away from him lingering in his memory.
It was the result of the stress they’d suffered, he told himself and almost made himself believe it. People go through situations like this, they get closer than they already were (and he and Scully had been very close, that treacherous voice in his mind reminded him) and they start imagining things. Things they couldn’t possibly want in real life. Things that would make things very awkward in real life (he ignored the voice that asked him since when had he worried about things being very awkward in real life). Things that just couldn’t happen.
But he couldn’t get rid of the dreams, and he wasn’t even sure that he wanted to.