Title:  To Love Somebody
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...



To Love Somebody


~ Prologue ~

"...There's a light - a certain kind of light that's never shone on
me..."


"So... tell me about your young man."

"Well, there's not much to tell, Gran.  He's a Federal Agent...
FBI.  I don't know much about his job, yet.  We've been dating about
a month, and it's been fun, so far.  He's very sweet; I think you'd
like him."

"Hmmph.  If you'd ever bring him over so I can meet him... maybe I
could see for myself.  What's he look like?  Handsome?  You deserve
someone handsome, Lillian."

"Gran!  Yes, he's very handsome.  Tall and slender, with dark
brown hair and the loveliest hazel eyes.  Very nice smile. He can be
shy sometimes... and he has this great sense of humor.  He's the kind
of guy you're proud to be seen with, you know?"

"Hazel eyes, huh?  Your grandfather had hazel eyes.  They were so
clear they could make me melt at twenty paces... So.  When's the
wedding?  I'm not getting any younger, y'know."

"GRAN!  We've only gone on maybe four dates!  I haven't even met his
family yet!"

"Well, what's the hold-up, eh?  You're not getting any younger
either, Lilly.  I'd like to hold a few great-grandkids in my arms
once before I die.  You're my only granddaughter, my love... don't
make me wait too long."

"For heaven's sake, Gran... you're only seventy!  And you run rings
around all of us, even me!  Look, I have to go.  I've got a lunch
date.  I promise we'll come over, maybe this weekend, okay?  You'll
get to meet him, if he's agreeable.  As I said, it's early days
still; I don't want to jinx this.  He could end up being somebody
very important in my life.  I'll let you know, okay?  But right now
I'm running late.  I don't want to keep Fox waiting..."

I remember that conversation as if it happened yesterday, instead of
over two years ago... we'd only just begun getting to know
one another and I was eager and needy and trying so hard to hide it. 
Fox was the first man I had dated in a long time that made me feel as
if anything could be possible in my life.  And don't get me wrong;
these last few years have been wonderful.  Fox is wonderful.  He's
romantic and loving and funny and just so sweet.  Sometimes my
feelings for him make me ache.  I fell in love with him on our third
date, and after two years I am no closer to knowing for sure if he
loves me in return.

Oh, I know he cares for me a great deal.  I can feel it in the way
he touches me, makes love to me.  A woman can tell when a man
cherishes her - and Fox cherishes me.  

But, love?  Oh, I just don't know... once, about six months ago, I
thought maybe he'd say it.  Maybe, I'd finally hear the words.

He'd taken me to a little country inn outside of Boston, for the
weekend.  It was my thirtieth birthday, and he'd devoted the entire
weekend to making me happy.  We'd gone out to dinner and dancing; had
gone hiking in the hills and had made love out under the stars.   I
had come so close to telling him, saying those words to him.  I'd
held them inside for a very long time, wanting so much to tell him
but always not quite finding the right moment - not feeling the right
vibe from Fox.  It was as if a piece of him was cooler than the rest;
as fiercely as he could give me physical love, that cool piece edged
out the vital words I'd been expecting to hear, after we'd both
collapsed against each other and our bodies cooled in the night.  

This particular weekend was no different...

We'd gone dancing again, and we'd both had one too many.  We'd
walked back to the inn and on the way there we'd found a little copse
of trees far away from the lights of the inn and the security lamps
dotting some of the lanes.  A small circle of the night sky was
visible above the close-knit leafy tree-tops, and it was here that
Fox laid me on the cool grass and removed my clothes, kissing each
bared spot of skin tenderly. He'd used his hands and his beautiful
lips to stroke me and caress my skin until I was on fire with it,
with the need to scream aloud my love for him.  He'd parted my thighs
and slipped between them with one long, smooth glide of hard silky
flesh, and had buried himself so deeply within me that I could feel
him touch my soul.  To me, it had to be love; what else could it be? 
With every thrust I felt he was calling to me, telling me of his
devotion.  He wouldn't make such exquisite love to just any woman;
this I could not believe.  All that passionate tenderness; the wealth
of reverence I could sense in each touch of his trembling fingertips,
as he drove harder, and deeper... The way his mouth clung to mine and
his tongue copied each delicious movement of his body... 

He had to love me.  He had to.  And he'd tell me; this time Fox
would say the words...

"Lilly... God.  It was wonderful... you are wonderful.  Thank you
for coming with me... thank you."

I lay underneath his warm body in the cool summer night and wondered
why, after having given me so much of himself, Fox Mulder couldn't
bring himself to say those few simple words that would make my world
complete.

Six months later I am still wondering.

****************
to be continued

"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."

~ Fox Mulder, "FTF"

'Believe the Words'
http://char.chaffin.com 


AXF is your list for ALL X-Files Fanfic... all genres, all characters, all 
ratings.

 Automatic newsgroup posting too! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/all-xf 

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Title:  To Love Somebody (CH. 1 of 11)
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...



~ Chapter One ~

I used to think that someday, when I got what I wanted in life, I
would be happy.  I'd treasure these things, cherish them, and never
again complain that life is not fair to me.  When my maturity came
and stretched out to accommodate my advancing years, and I not only
didn't get what I wanted out of life but still searched for those
things I'd lost - such as my sister - I became resigned to not living
that ideal life.  

I didn't seem fated to meet somebody, fall in love and make a future
filled with babies and PTA.  I had wanted that for so long; wanted to
improve upon the legacy my parents had left in the world, under the
name of Mulder.  Maybe by finding my way in that idyllic world I
could somehow atone for losing my sister - and the respect of my
father.  I would protect my family, and I would treat my son so
wonderfully...

In the meantime I had a job and a partner who was also my friend -
who also seemed to have an abbreviated personal life - and in between
cases and mutants and annoying Assistant Directors, I could sometimes
convince myself that I was moderately not unhappy.

I guess I just wanted the normal life that other men seemed to
enjoy.  I'd look around at some of the other agents, the ones who had
wives and families.  They went to work every day and fought the
criminal demons just as Scully and I fought; the only difference I
could see for us centered around the X-Files, and all they
represented.  And that was very daunting, to be sure.  But still...
why couldn't we be right up there with normalcy?  Yes, we both had
our share of excess baggage - certainly I had more than Scully.  I
had a lost sister and a murdered father and a shell-shocked mother. 
I had nightmares and insomnia and no outlet for my physical needs,
save a few well-worn videos for which I was forever denying
ownership.  I had fish, instead of a dog.  I had a Taurus and
expensive suits instead of a dirt bike or a Jeep, and falling-off-the-
legs-jeans and holey tee shirts.  I had a smooth face instead of a
beard.  I frequently suffered from headaches instead of heartburn
from too many hot dogs at the game... 

So when, during what appeared to be the busiest time in my Spooky
little life, I met Lillian... I grabbed for that normal with both
eager hands.  I wanted to be Joe Average, taking his girl out to
dinner and a movie.  And I did just that, with Lillian.  Movies and
ball games, long dinners whenever I could swing it - weekends in the
park.  I did it - and I tried hard to remember that on my time I
could be that regular guy.  I never talked shop with her; she knew I
had a partner named Dana Scully, and that was about it.  I really
tried...

It took me two years to understand that as long as I worked the X-
Files, I would never be Mr. Average.  That as long as I had in my
possession a Fed ID and a Taurus and a fucking Sig hanging out of my
jacket - and knowledge of all things X... Joe was just a figment of
my overzealous imagination.  That as long as I had a partner whose
back I watched and whose friendship meant so much to me - and whose
demands on my time were legitimate and consuming and necessary, a
relationship with any woman would have to be damned unique.

But two years ago, I'd sure as hell tried.

I met Lillian in a Starbuck's of all places.  I rarely went there on
the weekends, but one pre-winter Saturday I'd had a craving for a
vanilla latte, and had found myself standing in a long line,
patiently awaiting my turn.  Next to the last in line, and I was very
near the door; consequently when it suddenly flew open on a gust of
winter wind and the woman who came in with the wind literally blew
into my arms... I'd done the gentlemanly thing and had helped her to
keep her feet while we both struggled to shut the door. Her smile
flashed up at me and for that one second I'd felt warmer than I'd
felt in a long time.  She'd beamed at me; I had never seen anyone
beam before - but that's just what she did.

"Thank you very much!  Nothing like a little brisk wind to knock you
over!"  She had a soft, high voice; not a little girl tone but she
would never be able to sing "Old Man River", either. I found myself
staring openly at her - very impolite, I realize.  But it had been so
long since a woman had just fallen into my arms, with the
circumstances owing nothing to on-the-job hazard.

I saw pale brown, shoulder-length hair, waterfall-straight and cut to
frame her pretty face.  Brown eyes, and a very sweet smile.  Lillian
wasn't too tall and wasn't too thin - nicely rounded, would be a good
way to describe her.  In a world of flashy, leggy flamingoes I guess
you could call her a soft, cute little robin.  And I'd seen enough
leggy flamingoes to last me a while... Lillian was suddenly very
attractive to me.

I'd offered her my place in line and she thanked me; I stood behind
her and inhaled her delicate perfume and tried not to stare at the
back of her shiny hair.  When she'd turned to face me and had started
up a conversation I joined in, willingly.  We'd talked about the
early feel of winter and the puddle in front of Starbuck's that had
drenched both our feet, and the way prices on gas had skyrocketed
lately.  She got her order first and found a table; by the time I'd
paid for mine and turned around all the tables were taken and I just
figured I'd drink and drive, when her soft voice spoke up from a side
table overlooking the parking lot.

"Would you care to join me?"  She'd smiled up at me and I had smiled
down at her and murmured a thanks, then sat down opposite her and
sipped my latte very slowly, as she did with her brownie frapp.  We'd
exchanged names and occupations; Lillian's last name was Maxwell and
she worked as an accountant at a law firm just a few miles from my
office.  She'd asked about my job and I'd told her as little as
possible - and downplayed it, as well.

"Oh... I work for the Federal government.  Nothing big - I do
profiling for the FBI."  Well, that was a half-truth; I did profile
and I did work for the FBI.  Lillian was suitably impressed and said
as much, while I shrugged and made it seem as though the work I did
was boring and average.

An hour had come and gone before I realized it.  I knew I had to
leave - and I also knew with sudden certainty that I wanted nothing
more than to see her again.  I stood and shook her hand and didn't
let go of it right away, while I asked her out to dinner.  I said
words that I had not said in years to a woman...

"Would you have dinner with me?"  Simple words, the simplest in
fact.  Men used these words every day of their lives, all over the
world.  Most men.  Fox Mulder usually took it for granted that when
dinner came around he'd either be eating alone, or he'd be closeted
in the office, or in a motel room somewhere, hunched over a laptop
with his partner - eating cold pizza or bad Chinese takeout and
courting indigestion.  And I never had to ask Scully because it was
always a given that if we were stuck working a case after hours there
would be takeout of some sort and we would be sharing it.

"I'd love to, Fox."  

She'd called me 'Fox'.  How long had it been since a pretty woman
accepted my formal dinner invitation, AND called me Fox?  How long
had it been since I had allowed another woman to even call me Fox? 
Maybe that was the real question.  Obviously only one woman was
allowed to call me Mulder... and suddenly I needed to differentiate
between my best friend and a potential date-mate.  I got her address
and I went home to live out the rest of my day, until I could dress
for dinner and pick Lillian up.  

That first dinner was wonderful and strange and I never wanted it to
end.  Lillian wore pale pink and looked soft and pretty and very
touchable.  We ate a leisurely dinner and talked about everything -
well, I guess I listened more than talked, at first.  She told me
about the dry-as-dust law firm she worked for and the fact that she'd
been orphaned as a toddler and raised by her grandmother.  I told her
about my apartment in Arlington.  She told me about her hobbies and
about her cat Mange and about her childhood wish to be a world-famous
author.  I told her about my fish.  She told me, in one evening of
much talking, about some of her deepest, fondest wishes.  And after
three hours of her revealing all to me and of me giving up squat in
return... I finally told her a little about Scully.

"Yes, I do have a partner.  Many FBI agents are paired up when they
do investigative fieldwork.  Her name is Dana Scully.  We've been
partners for over two years."  I'd sipped my coffee and waited for
the curiosity, but Lillian's response was politely inquiring.

"I'll bet it's nice to have a partner to share the workload."  She'd
smiled at me over her own coffee cup and her words made me feel
relieved that I didn't have to say any more than that... Just a
female partner named Dana Scully, who watched my back and kept me on
track and in balance and reeled me in when I ran amok - and who
shared cold pizza and bad Chinese in seedy motels during some of the
worst cases in FBI history.  A partner, and a friend.

I wondered if she'd like Lillian.

I wondered if Lillian would like her... and at that moment there was
never any question that I would not ask this charming woman for
another date - or that she would not become someone important to me. 
It was a given, I think - after that first date.  I'd taken her home
after a really enjoyable evening, and had kissed her cheek at her
door; had turned to go - and then I'd turned back, to where she'd
stood in the door watching me leave.  I'd taken one step back to her
and had leaned into her and had cupped a hand under her chin, holding
her in place for the kiss I placed on her pink lips.  I'd kissed
Lillian very slowly and very softly and she'd kissed me back - and
when I raised my head and looked into her face her eyes were glowing -
for me.

I liked it.  I'd missed it; that look a woman gives when she's just
been kissed, and her entire being is soft and open and everything is
just... nice.  Actually, maybe I'd never had it, not quite in that
manner.  I just knew I liked it - and I wanted it.  I'd had a taste
of normal, and if I had my way there would be more than just a taste
in my future.

********************** 

I've had more than two years of normal.

It's been great, it really has.  Knowing Lillian has been one of the
best things in my oftentimes-sorry life.  She is incredibly sweet and
kind and never has a bad word to say about anyone.  We decided early
on to maintain our own places, both of us independent enough to need
our own space.  Right from the beginning we spent so much time
together it didn't really matter.  

Lillian has always been very tolerant of my sometimes-erratic work
schedule, and the great hanks of time when I have to be away on a
case.  Over the past few years I have been able to explain to her
some of what Scully and I have to face on the job - and while she
doesn't pretend to understand, I think she has a healthy respect for
the work we do.  She and Scully have met frequently over the past two
years and they get along.

They aren't friends, but they get along.  Honestly I'd expected
less and hoped for more.  Let's face it - my relationship with Dana
Scully would be a difficult thing for a lot of women to accept.  The
first time it was brought home to me that I would have to sometimes
put my partner before my girlfriend, came just a few months after we
started dating.

Another horrible case, worse than many but not as bad as I had a
sinking feeling we would face in the sometime future; Satan in the
form of a monstrous serial killer with a fetish for the hair and
fingernails of his dead victims.  He went after Scully and I barely
made it to her in time; barely saved her.  Donnie Pfaster was carted
off and I took Scully back to the hotel; she'd fallen apart on the
drive over and there wasn't a way in Hell I was leaving her alone in
her room.  Her shaky, repeated vow of, "I'm fine, Mulder," cut no ice
whatsoever - not this time.  I knew better.  I'd held her, trembling
violently in the wake of what had almost ended her life in the most
brutal fashion, and had thought about how close I'd come to losing
my partner and my best friend.  

I think I shook a bit that night, myself.

She'd had two nightmares; after the first one I'd given up trying to
sleep in the chair next to the bed and had climbed in beside her,
propping myself up against a couple of pillows, and held her head
cradled in my lap.  Her tears had soaked through the leg of my jeans
and she'd gripped my hand so hard it felt as if she'd broken my
fingers - but Scully had finally fallen asleep.  I'd winnowed my
spare fingers through her hair and kept watch over her for the rest
of the night.  It was the right thing to do, I'd told myself. She'd
done the same for me in the past; it was what good partners did for
each other.  And good friends.  We'd get up the next morning and find
a place to eat a quick breakfast, and we'd fly back to D.C. - and put
all of this mess behind us.  

In the meantime I'd forgotten to call Lillian and let her know what
had happened, why I'd had to leave town on almost no notice.  It was
really the first time it had happened, and of course I was angry with
myself for not thinking. I'd resolved to call her first thing in the
morning...

***************

"Hi, Lilly - it's me."  I'd smiled at the relieved tone in her soft
voice, coming at me over the receiver.

"Fox!  I've been so worried - are you all right?"  I cradled the
phone against my shoulder and peeped in on Scully; she was still
sleeping.  I partially-closed the bathroom door and spoke low into
the mouthpiece.

"I'm fine, really.  I feel terrible about not calling sooner - but
this is the first chance I have had.  I've been out of town on
a case..."  And as briefly as possible I'd told her some of what had
happened, during the case.  I told her a little about Pfaster and his
attack on Scully.  Lillian had been horrified; up until that point
she'd really had no idea just how dangerous our jobs were.

"My God, Fox!  Is Dana all right?  Did that animal hurt her?" 
Lillian was horrified, and rightly so.  She was an accountant in an
old, established law firm and events like this were as far-removed
from her daily arena as they were commonplace in mine, and Scully's. 
My new girlfriend was a gentle soul and still fairly innocent of the
more foul side of the human existence... I hastened to assure her of
Scully's safety.

"She's going to be fine, Lilly.  She's scraped up and shaken up but
he didn't have a chance to do any more than that.  I got to her in
time."  I'd sighed under my breath and rubbed at my tired eyes,
thinking suddenly about all the times I had 'gotten to her' in
time - and the one time I had not.  And as if Lillian could read my
mind, her soft voice had resonated in my ear, sympathy in her tone.

"There's a lot more to your job than I'd been led to believe, isn't
there, Fox?  I have a feeling, somehow - that you two are in a lot
more danger, on a regular basis, than you have let on.  I guess I
assumed that FBI agents spent most of their time doing investigation,
in a safe little office."  There was resignation in her words and I'd
sighed again, knowing that this was a critical place for us.  I
wanted this relationship to work, I really did.  I sank down onto the
rim of the bathtub and attempted to explain further.

"We do push pencils, and investigate from our office, Lillian.  We
do a lot of that.  But Scully and I are assigned to a special project
that deals with the unexplained cases, the ones that no one can solve
or understand.  We deal with the kind of danger that a lot of other
agents couldn't handle - and we sometimes get caught right in the
middle of it, the way we did with this Pfaster asshole.  Both of us
get hurt, sometimes.  It's part of the job.  We're good at what we do
and that's because we work together and trust each other and are
loyal partners to each other."  I'd stopped to take a deep breath,
suddenly knowing that her acknowledgment and acceptance of my next
words would dictate whether or not we had any sort of future together
as a couple. 

"Look... there will be times when a case comes up and Scully and I
have to take off and just go.  We spend a lot of time together on the
road more often than not.  For some reason we'd had a lull in between
cases, which does happen but it's rare - and that's why I've been
more or less rooted in the office for the past couple of months.  And
the few stakeouts and cases we've been involved with didn't take us
out of town and that's why we seemed like office-bound agents to you.
I assure you it's not the norm for us."  

"Well, then... what IS the 'norm' for you?"  I could tell Lillian
was trying to be understanding.  I reached out my free hand for the
bathroom door and shut it completely, before answering.

"Pfaster is normal for us, Lillian.  Mutants like Pfaster are what
we face, most of the time.  Our division is called the X-Files, as in
'unexplained'.  And unfortunately the dregs of society can sometimes
be the cream of the crop in our line of work.  I won't sugar-coat
what we do, Lillian - and I won't deny that there will be times, like
tonight... when Scully comes first.  She is my partner and she
watches my back just as I watch hers.  She has saved my life several
times already - actually, more than I can count - and when she needs
me I go.  She does the same for me."  

My voice had petered out as the silence on the line threatened to
overwhelm me.  Had I managed to make her understand, and accept?  I'd
really hoped so, for it was very important to me that Lillian and
Scully understand their placement in my life - and just the fact that
I was offering up to Lillian a piece of myself said reams about the
way my romance with her was heading - and it had only been a few
months.

"Fox... it's okay.  No, I don't understand it all but I think your
loyalty to your partner is admirable and must be maintained.  I'm not
going anywhere... I promise..."

Her words had made me smile in relief. She'd understood; it was
going to work out.

****************

As much as facing monsters like Pfaster had become almost
commonplace for Scully and me, and did not frighten me... the day
Scully collapsed in my apartment, right in front of me, and
Lillian... I thought I'd lose my mind.  On that frightening day I'd
known it was bad when I'd seen the blood dripping from her nose, and
I'd been in a panic. Holding her limp body in my arms; calling to
her, then shouting to Lillian to call 911, I tasted the worst sort
of fear, that day.

Scully had been quiet lately; more tired than usual and less
inclined to linger at the end of the day when our work was done and
we usually sat in the office and shot the shit for a few before
taking off for home. But we'd had a falling out, of sorts - and over
a month later we were still tiptoeing around each other because of
it.  Maybe during that time she'd been brooding on her health, or
worrying about any number of things that she refused to share with
me.  I honestly don't know.  Sometimes Scully was harder to read than
anyone I'd ever known.  She would get touchy about things that I just
did not understand.  And she'd get cool to the point of almost frost.
When that occurred she'd knock down my theories with barely-concealed
contempt, which would result in pissing me off and making me even
more determined to play the jerk, just to get her goat.  Sometimes
I'd figure out why, right away - and sometimes it would not hit me
until months later.  
  
This was one of those times when I knew nothing until it was almost
too late...

But back to the falling-out.  I guess I'd let it show in my demeanor
and in my general outlook on life, that I was happy, for the first
time in a damned long time.  I had a girlfriend and life was very
good.  Lillian was wonderful to be with, affectionate and easygoing
and so very sweet... we had been together two years and it was the
longest romantic relationship I'd ever managed to maintain.  I was
proud of that, and although I didn't flaunt my relationship or rub it
in, neither did I keep quiet around Scully.  As I'd said, she and
Lillian had met several times.  I liked being happy - and I wanted
nothing more than for Scully to be happy - to find someone - the way
I had.  But she hadn't, yet - and if her solitude made her terse or
grouchy I tried to be empathetic, for I'd been there myself.

On the morning I came into the office after a great night with
Lillian and found that I was expected to use a week of vacation, or
lose eight weeks' worth of vacation money... force of habit had made
me try fighting it.  I didn't want to be away right now; I had a case
to work.  I could sense things were not right between Scully and me
but I didn't know why, and I didn't want to be away from our
partnership either.  It worried and bothered me though I did my best
not to let on.  I finally gave in when I realized I could use a week -
away from it all, with Lillian if she could get the time off.

Why the hell not?

So I took Lillian with me on a pilgrimage to Graceland and I had a
great time, but found myself thinking about Scully up in Philly by
herself working my case; worrying about her and the case... well,
mostly about her.  The odd attitude she'd had just before I'd left,
and the frigidly polite tone she'd used with Lillian when she'd come
by to pick me up.  It's true Scully had never gushed over Lillian,
but up until that point she had at least been polite.

I called Scully a couple of times while I was gone and I could hear
it in her voice, that something was wrong.  She tried to hide it but
I could feel it, and I let those feelings get in the way of my
enjoyment of sharing my special place with Lillian.  I think Lillian
could feel it as well - but she never asked... and when I heard about
Ed Jerse I about flipped.  I'd never felt so angry, at what I
perceived to be Scully's carelessness for herself and for her own
safety.  At the time I never asked her why she'd been so on the edge
that a walk on the wild side with a dangerously unbalanced stranger
had seemed a good thing to do.  I only knew I was hurt, deeply hurt -
and the why of that confused the hell out of me.  And of course in my
inimitable, tactful way I was 'kind' enough to let her know.

"All this because I didn't get you a desk...?"  Yes, I was stupid
enough to ask Scully that question, upon my return from vacation and
her return from the hospital - and the hurt my careless remark caused
her was plain to see on her face.  And she was absolutely right; at
that moment it was all about her and nothing about me.  But I wasn't
to know that, yet - and I think Scully was only beginning to know
it.  

When she finally knew for certain; as certain as she could be... her
revelation shook me to my very core and for the first time in my life
I was very, very afraid.


"Scully!  Jesus!  SCULLY!"  I held her, pale and lifeless in my
hands; her fingers were like ice.  Lillian rushed to call 911 and I
held my partner in my arms and tried to rouse her; tried to stem the
steady stream of blood coming from her nose.  I was in a wild panic,
trying to imagine what was wrong with her.  She'd been waxy-pale and
on the shaky side all day long; I'd finally convinced her to go home
early, thinking maybe she'd been coming down with a cold.  And I'd
just let Lillian in and had kissed her hello when Scully knocked on
my door and I opened it to find her pale face looking up at me,
almost swaying on her feet.  She'd had a thick sheaf of files in her
hands that she'd held out to me, standing in the open doorway.

"Mulder, you left these on the desk..." That was all she'd gotten
out before her eyes had rolled up in her head and she'd pitched
forward.

*********************
end of chapter one


"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."

~ Fox Mulder, "FTF"

'Believe the Words'
http://char.chaffin.com 


AXF is your list for ALL X-Files Fanfic... all genres, all characters, all 
ratings.

 Automatic newsgroup posting too! http://groups.yahoo.com/group/all-xf 

Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ 

Title:  To Love Somebody (CH. 2 of 11)
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...


~ Chapter Two ~

Skinner had called Mulder up to his office to go over a few
questionable items on our latest expense report and I was taking
advantage of the respite from pretending that I was feeling fine. 
Mulder would be leaving shortly to spend the weekend with Lillian in
Virginia to attend her cousin's wedding.  I knew that Mulder was
worried about leaving me behind...

It was at times such as this one that I regret having come to lean
on him so heavily.  But the truth is that throughout these last few
months when I have been so ill, Mulder is the only one I can bear to
have around.  My mother worries and her fear is a palpable thing. 
She overcompensates by cooking enormous meals for me and by wrapping
me in sweaters and blankets, clucking at me to stay warm.   Mulder
worries and is afraid too, but he works hard at maintaining a calm
exterior.  He tempts me with takeout, but never pushes me to eat when
I can't and he wraps me in the warmth of his presence, which is more
comforting to me than any blanket or pain pill the doctors can
prescribe.

Over these last months our partnership and our friendship has
sustained me through the darkest of hours.  When the pain and the
fear threaten to overwhelm me, he is there to soothe and support me. 
His deep voice rumbling in my ear assures me that I am not going
through all of this alone.  And when my resolve is not enough to hold
me upright, when the pain drives me to my knees to vomit in wretched
misery... when the headache pounding behind my eyes becomes
intolerable, it is Mulder who makes it bearable.

I have had good days and bad since I was diagnosed with this
inoperable tumor.  This past week had been a good one and Mulder and
I took advantage of my spurt of energy by getting out of the office
and following up on some leads for a case that had come across our
desks.  Today, however, I could not claim to be in good health
although I put on the performance of a lifetime to convince Mulder
otherwise.  He deserves a weekend away from worry and sickness.  He
deserves to spend some time wrapping his arms around his girlfriend
instead of around a dying woman.  And so I spent the day
surreptitiously sneaking my pain meds and ruthlessly pushing down the
bile that burned at the back of my throat.   With Mulder temporarily
gone, I indulged my weakness by hiding my face in the curve of my arm
where it lay atop my desk.  I peered at my watch and rubbed my
fingertips against my aching forehead and was tiredly contemplating
the thirty remaining minutes of my performance before Mulder would
leave for the weekend when I heard the door slide open and Lillian
stepped into the office.

"Oh, Dana," she said in a softly apologetic voice.  "I decided to
leave the office early to pick up Fox so that he wouldn't have to
drive all the way across town to get me," she explained.  "Your
office is so much closer to the interstate than mine."  I raised my
head and tried to focus on her nervous chatter.  She leaned against
Mulder's desk and her hands fidgeted with some of the pencils propped
up in the cup on the top of the desk as her uneasy gaze finally
settled on my face.  I knew the very second when Lillian had
catalogued all of the changes the cancer had wrought in my appearance
as I saw pity darken her warm, brown eyes and I was taken back to the
first time I had met her...

About a month after the Pfaster case, she had popped into the
office, surprising Mulder and me.  I had known that Mulder had begun
seeing someone - he had told me about the pretty, young woman he had
met in Starbucks a few months earlier.  I had risen from my chair
when Mulder guided her to  where I was sitting to make the
introductions.

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Dana," Lillian had said in her soft,
high voice.  "Fox has told me so much about you."  I murmured my
pleasure at meeting her and threw an  arched brow Mulder's way.  My
mind flashed back to the early days of our partnership when he had
uncomfortably stopped me from calling him by his first name by
telling me that he even made his parents call him by his surname. 
After my abduction, I had spent fruitless weeks trying to convince my
mother to abide by his wishes and to stop calling him Fox, but deep
down, I knew that he had not been truthful with me.  And as Lillian
stood in his office, gazing at him with soft eyes and using his given
name in an even softer voice, it dawned on me that Mulder had
expertly established the groundwork for our relationship in the first
weeks and months of our association.  I had been firmly slotted into
the role of partner and buddy.  In those early days I played the part
of 'one of the boys' and as our relationship deepened and grew it
never occurred to me to call him by any other name.  Mulder was my
partner.  Mulder was my best friend.  I didn't know Fox.  I had never
met him and until the moment I laid eyes on Lillian, I didn't realize
that he even existed...

For Dana had died at the hands of the faceless men of my tormentors
in the harsh lights of that boxcar and I had been reborn as Scully. 
Little remained of the young woman I had been when I was assigned to
the X-Files.  Dana had died so that Scully might live to work with
Mulder; to fight with Mulder to uncover the truth; to protect and
defend him against those who would seek to harm him, as Mulder sought
to protect and defend me.  Our friendship was my reward for the
sacrifice of family and friends; of peace and innocence.

I was drawn back to the present by the soft lilting of Lillian's
voice as she gently inquired about my health.  I was spared from
making another bald-faced lie that day by the sound of Mulder's feet
beating a familiar tattoo down the hallway from the elevator.  A
moment later he stepped into the office and a smile lit up his face,
smoothing out the tired lines that I had become so familiar with over
the last few weeks as his eyes landed on Lillian's bright and happy
face.  Mulder smoothed a hand over her shining hair and dropped a
quick kiss on her upturned lips and openly admired the pretty, floral
dress that swirled around her ankles.  I plopped back into my chair,
suddenly conscious of the clothes hanging from my spare frame as I
fingered the brittle, dry ends of my own hair.  I had been so pleased
that the cancer treatments had not resulted in the loss of my hair,
but faced with Lillian's fresh, wholesome, healthy appeal, I was
reminded that the cancer was not only growing inside of me but was
evident in the ravages to my appearance.

I watched the sparkle dim in Mulder's eyes as they slid from
Lillian's face to mine and the lines reappear around his eyes and
above his nose.  Licking my dry lips, I stood and began to stuff
papers into my briefcase, deliberately looking at my watch.

"If you two want to beat the weekend traffic, you'd better leave
now," I advised briskly, an expectant look plastered on my face. 
Lillian smiled and began to draw Mulder across the room.

"Have a good weekend, Dana," she said gently.  I smiled in reply and
lifted my brows as Mulder stopped in front of me.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, worriedly studying my face.
I sighed in mock exasperation and threw a rueful glance toward
Lillian who was waiting serenely for Mulder to make his goodbyes.

"I'll be fine, Mulder," I assured him.  "Go on," I urged.  "You'll
be late."  I nodded toward the door.  I knew he was torn between
wanting to spend some time alone with Lillian and the fierce need he
had to take care of me and I summoned a bright, reassuring smile for
his benefit.

"Do you need a ride home?" he asked.  I shook my head.

"I have my car," I told him.

"You promise to take it easy this weekend?" he pleaded.  "Rest. 
Eat..."  I nodded patiently as he ran through a laundry list of do's
and don'ts for me.

"I'll leave my phone on.  Call me if you need me," he urged.  I
poked two fingers into his chest.

"Turn the cell off during the ceremony, Mulder," I told him crisply.
"It's rude to have a ringing phone in the middle of a wedding." 
Lillian and I shared a look of feminine frustration but Mulder
continued to glare at me stubbornly.

I blew out a long-suffering sigh and ran the tip of my index finger
over my heart in a tiny cross.  "I'll be good," I vowed.  "Cross my
heart."  Mulder smiled at the childish gesture and leaned down to
brush his lips over my cheek.

"Call me, if you need me," he stressed and this time I nodded,
silently promising to call upon him if the need arose.  Mollified,
Mulder straightened and reached out for Lillian's hand, leading her
from the room.  Straining to hear the sound of the elevator doors
opening and closing, I slumped back into my chair and stared at the
empty doorway and contemplated the long, lonely weekend that
stretched out before me.

***************** 

I stifled a sigh when I saw Fox pull his cell phone from his pocket
and peer at the illuminated screen for what was easily the twentieth
time tonight.  The moment the wedding ceremony was over and we had
cleared the receiving line, he had stepped out of the church and
quickly thumbed the phone's power button back on.

I smoothed my fingers over my upswept hair, and took a sip of wine
as I tried to focus my attention on my cousin, Marian, who was
animatedly bringing me up to date on the antics of her three-year-old
twin boys while I ruthlessly buried the twinge of anxiety caused by
the man standing next to me who was obviously a million miles away -
or to be more precise - whose mind was one hundred and twelve miles
north in D.C.

Fox had been distracted throughout the ceremony and had barely
touched the delicious meal during the reception.  The band had been
playing for almost forty minutes and he had yet to ask me to dance. 
I had hoped that this weekend away would be a chance for us to spend
some time alone together.  Ever since Dana had been diagnosed with
cancer, Fox had been preoccupied and moody.  I understood his concern
and I tried not to begrudge Dana the time that Fox spent with her. 
At night, if he was not at her apartment, I offered him the comfort
of my embrace.  I used soft words and gentle hands to soothe the
tension and fear from his body.  His best friend was dying and there
was nothing he could do to stop it.

Marian indicated that she was going to the ladies room.  Picking up
my purse from the table, I leaned toward Fox.  "I'll be right back,"
I whispered into his ear.  His head jerked toward me and his eyes
were clouded and troubled and I knew at that moment that he wasn't
seeing me.  He shook his head slightly and his eyes cleared and
crinkled at the corners when he smiled.  He stood politely as Marian
and I rose from our seats and brushed his lips across my cheek.

"Hurry back," he murmured softly as he sank back into his chair.  I
nodded and followed Marian across the room.  As we skirted the dance
floor, I glanced toward our table and found Fox's chair empty.  My
eyes swept across the room and I saw him striding toward the door,
cell phone in hand.  He was already speaking into the phone as he
pushed open the door and stepped out onto the patio.

"Is Fox expecting an important call?" Marian asked as we settled
onto the plush stools in front of the lit vanity.  She drew a small
comb from her purse and was looking at me curiously in the mirror as
she lightly rearranged a few mussed tendrils of hair.

"His partner - his best friend is very sick," I explained, pulling a
compact from my purse and dusting powder over my nose and forehead. 
"Cancer," I said by way of further explanation.  Marian made a
sympathetic face.

"Poor Fox," she commiserated.  "Have they been partners a very long
time?" she asked.  I nodded and carefully outlined my lips with lip
liner.

"Over four years," I told her as I put down the liner and lifted a
tube of lipstick.  Marian shook her head and dug through her bag for
a small bottle of perfume.

"I guess they're almost like brothers," she said guilelessly as she
dabbed her wrists with the delicate fragrance.  She looked up and
flashed a quick grin into the mirror.  "At least that's the way they
make it seem in the movies and on television."  I frowned and stroked
the berry-colored lipstick over my lips.

"His partner is a woman," I said, reaching for a tissue and blotting
my lips.  My frown deepened and I shook my head as Marian now
directed a pitying look at me and what I could only imagine she
thought was my silly naivete.  I snapped my purse closed and stood. 
"You're wrong," I told her as I slipped the delicate gold chain of my
purse strap over my shoulder.  "It's not like that." I pushed the
door open and stepped out of the room.

It's not like that, I repeated to myself as I made my way past the
dance floor and through the tables of the hotel's ballroom.  Fox's
seat was still empty and my eyes darted toward the doors leading out
to the patio.  I had watched Fox and Dana together for more than two
years now and I had never, not even in the earliest days, suspected
that there was anything more between them than a deep and loving
friendship.  Over the years, I had found Dana to be an intensely
private person and I had accepted the fact that we would never be
great friends.  But I also accepted that she was a vital part of
Fox's life and always would be.  

Marian had no idea what she was talking about...  I shook my head
slightly and chided myself for allowing her to raise suspicions that
I knew had no foundation.  I resolutely put her pitying look out of
my mind and stepped into the cool night air.  Fox had his back to me
and was leaning against the wrought iron railing, staring sightlessly
into the darkness.

"How is she?" I asked, laying a gentle hand on his arm.  Startled,
Fox lifted his head to look at me.  "Dana," I said quietly, glancing
toward the cell phone still clutched in his hand.  "How is she
feeling?"  Fox smiled softly and I knew that my concern for Dana's
well-being pleased him.  His smile quickly faded and he turned to
lean his hips against the railing.

"She says she's fine..." he began; I heard an underlying note of
disgust in his voice.  I tilted my head to one side and folded my
arms across my chest.

"But you don't believe her?" I asked cautiously, rubbing my hands
over the chilled skin of my bare arms.  Fox blew out an exasperated
breath and shook his head.

"No, she always says she's fine," he told me.  He wore a look of
agitation and I cast about desperately for some way to comfort him.

"That's not true," I told him slowly.  He looked at me quizzically
and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me that I had no idea
what I was talking about.  Instead he held out one hand, indicating
that I should continue.

"It seems to me that Dana has been very honest about her health."  I
carefully choose the right words.  I took a step closer and laid my
hand on his chest, my fingers rubbing against the expensive silk of
his tie.  "She calls you when she needs your help," I added.  Fox
closed his eyes and nodded slowly and I knew that he was remembering
the phone calls and the doctor's visits that he had accompanied her
to.  

I tugged on his tie and his head jerked up - he looked at me for what
seemed like the first time since we left his office yesterday.  "It's
chilly out here," I complained softly.  "Let's go inside," I
suggested.  Fox nodded and absently chafed his hands over my bare
arms.

"You haven't danced with me all night," I reminded him.  He raised
his eyes and looked over my head at the couples swaying on the dance
floor.

"Lilly," he said in a funny, formal tone.  "May I have the pleasure
of this dance?"  I smiled happily and linked my arm through his and
allowed him to lead me inside.

*************** 

Later that night, I stroked my hands over his back.  The sweat was
still drying on his skin and he shivered in his sleep as a cool
breeze wafted through the open window.  I could feel the warmth of
his breath puffing rhythmically against the bare skin of my breast
and although I was tired, my mind refused to shut down.  

Fox had thrown himself into being an attentive escort for the
remainder of the evening.  We danced several times and spent long
minutes in a quiet corner of the room talking.  For the first time in
weeks, I truly felt that I was the center of his world and I basked
in the familiar warmth of his attention.  When the reception was over
we joined the rest of my family in bidding a fond farewell to the
happy couple before making our way up to our suite.  Fox stole a
couple of kisses from me in the elevator and I floated blissfully
into the bathroom after snatching from my suitcase the pretty new
nightgown I had recently purchased.  I quickly washed up and slid the
satin oyster-colored gown over my head and took a few minutes to fuss
with my hair.  Snapping off the bathroom light, I laid a hand over my
fluttering belly.  Fox and I had not made love in almost two weeks
and I was strangely nervous.  

A shaft of moonlight spilled over our bed and I was surprised and
disappointed to find it empty.  My eyes darted around the room and I
heard the quiet murmur of his voice coming from the small living room
of our hotel suite.  Padding silently over the thick carpeting, I
eased the door open and found him speaking softly into the phone. 
And I knew he was checking up on Dana again.  He had ended the call a
few moments later and his eyes had swept over me and my new nightgown
with seeming interest...  I held out my hand and led him to our bed.

Later, lying awake and alone with my thoughts, I was plagued by the
memory of Marian's sympathetic face.   I mentally chastised myself
for allowing her to stir up worries and fears that I knew were
groundless.  And yet a nagging voice in the back of my head was
reminding me that the seeds of doubt had been planted more than six
months ago.

Fox and I had gone away for our first real vacation together.  He
was a workaholic and when the Bureau had forced him to take a week
off, I had eagerly latched onto his invitation to join him at
Graceland.  But instead of the carefree week of fun and solitude I
had envisioned, Fox had spent an extraordinary amount of time calling
Dana.

"We're supposed to be on vacation," I pouted at one point.  He
looked at me ruefully and made a production of stuffing his cell
phone into his back pocket.  He had held his hands up in surrender.

"I know," he began apologetically.  "I just wanted to check on
Scully - she didn't seem very happy when I asked her to go to
Philadelphia and follow up on a lead I had on a case," he explained. 
I planted my hands on my hips and huffed out a frustrated breath.

"You're always telling me what a fantastic agent Dana is," I said,
pressing my lips together and staring at him hard.  He nodded under
my fierce gaze and we spent the rest of the day exploring Memphis. 
We returned to our hotel room hours later and I went downstairs to
the spa for a massage when Fox announced his intentions of taking a
nap before dinner.  Relaxed and limber after my massage, I returned
to our room to find Fox trying to reach Dana on the phone.  He hadn't
seen me enter the room and he threw the phone down onto the bed in a
fit of anger when Dana apparently failed to answer the phone.

"Is everything all right?" I asked quietly as I eased the door closed
behind me and tossed the key card down onto the small table near the
door.  Fox had thrown his hands up into the air.

"Scully isn't answering her phone," he said in an annoyed tone.  I
looked at him in confusion and then glanced down at my watch.

"Didn't I hear you say when you spoke with her earlier today that
she had a date with someone she met in Philadelphia?" I asked softly.
"She probably turned the phone off," I said.  "I'm sure she's fine." 
I was beginning to become annoyed with his preoccupation with the case
she was investigating.  I was shocked to see his cheeks flush and his
eyes darken when I mentioned Dana's date, but I shook it off when his
eyes cleared and he apologized.

"Why don't we get dressed for dinner?" he suggested softly.  I
nodded, relieved at the change in subject - and I forgot my fears as
we
ate dinner and lingered over dessert and coffee.  

Two days later I huddled in the corner of the sofa in Fox's
apartment as he stalked around the living room.

"What the fuck was she thinking?" he had raged.  "Going back to some
creep's apartment - some guy she just met?"  His voice had been
shaking with barely suppressed anger.  "She's a cop for chrissake!"
he thundered.  "She should know better!"  When he had fallen into an
exhausted slumber after spending hours pacing and raging about the
apartment, I had lain awake convincing myself that his seemingly
frenzied anger was due to the scare he had received when he had
learned of Dana's injuries and brush with death - not due to
her choice of bedmates.

All these months later, lying in a hotel bed, with Fox's dark head
pressed to my breast, I was finding it increasingly difficult to keep
my fears at bay.  He had been passionate and tender in his lovemaking
and just the tiniest bit... preoccupied.  In the darkened room, I
fought against my worries and insecurities.  He was sleeping in my
arms - had emptied himself into my body - I reminded myself.  And
clinging to these thoughts, I had fallen into a troubled sleep.

******************* 

I set the phone back into the cradle and stared at it for a long
moment. I spent the last twenty minutes reassuring Mulder that I
would be okay until he returned.  He had called me at least five
times since he and Lillian left yesterday afternoon.  He called once
from the road and then again under the pretext of wishing me a good
night.  He called early today to say good morning, although the
relief evident in his voice when I answered the phone told me that he
was afraid that I might have slipped away during the night.  Two more
phone calls rounded out the day and his husky 'sweet dreams' lingered
in my ears.

I couldn't imagine what Lillian was thinking...  I was sure she was
looking forward to getting away and spending some time alone with
Mulder.  I was also sure that she had become tired of sharing him
with a sick woman.

I looked at the clock.  It was late and I should have been sleeping.
There were days when it was all I could do to keep my head up and I
was more than happy to sleep the day away.  Then there were the other
days - like today - where I was acutely conscious of the fragility of
life and the passage of time.  Days where I fought to stay awake and
savor every precious minute.  Tonight, my mind didn't want to shut
down;
I pushed myself from the sofa and made my way toward the bathroom,
hoping that a hot bath would relax me.

Twisting the taps, I tested the water temperature with my
fingertips, forgoing bubbles in favor of the purity of clean, clear,
hot water.  I stepped out of the pajamas that I had been wearing all
day and pinned my hair up.  I did all of this without once looking
into a mirror.  Lately I'd found myself avoiding my reflection
whenever possible.  As my disease progressed it was harder to hide
its effects on my appearance.  In the beginning I tried using a
heavier hand when applying my makeup, but a couple of months ago I
realized that I was highlighting rather than hiding the ravaging
effects of the cancer.  Now I would stand before a mirror only long
enough to apply minimal makeup and bring some order to my hair.

I braced my hands on the safety bars that Mulder had insisted on
installing two months ago when the dizzy spells began, and gingerly
lowered myself into the hot bath.  Dipping a washcloth into the
water, I squeezed it out and draped the hot, steamy cloth over my
face.  I realized that I'd left the cordless phone in the living room
and I briefly considered climbing out of the tub to retrieve it. 
Chances were slim that Mulder would call again at this late hour, but
I didn't want him to panic if he should call.  A familiar lethargy
spread through my limbs as the hot water began to work; I decided
against fetching the phone.

Surely he won't call again, I reasoned.  It was late and although
Lillian had been exceedingly understanding about the amount of time
that Mulder was spending with me over these many months there was
little doubt that she had other plans for him this weekend.

Lillian.  I couldn't understand the visceral reaction I'd sometimes
have toward her.  It was true that we'd never been close, but in the
more than two years since she became a part of Mulder's life, we have
been friendly -  if not exactly friends.  She'd always been very
gracious and accepting of my relationship with Mulder.  I was
intensely aware of the fact that this seemed a strange line of
thought.  I was Mulder's partner and if I were a man, I would not
have been contemplating Lillian's gracious understanding of our
relationship.  People would have accepted our friendship without
question; they would expect me to be a welcomed presence in Mulder and
Lillian's social life.  But the truth was that after Mulder met
Lillian things did change.  Mulder slotted us into our appropriate
positions in his life - girlfriend and best friend - and he made a
few tentative approaches at melding the two.  The three of us met
several times for drinks after work or for the occasional dinner. 
But sitting across a booth from Lillian and Mulder and watching the
happy, adoring look on her face or seeing the indulgent, affectionate
way he played with her fingers made me intensely aware of my third-
wheel status.  The next time Mulder suggested that I join them for
drinks I found that I had to finish up a report that I was working
on.  And when he invited me to his apartment for pizza and a ball game
on a chilly autumn Sunday, I had plans with my mother.  The
invitations dwindled and stopped shortly after that.  

From that point on Mulder stopped trying to blend the two different
aspects of his life and we settled into a comfortable rhythm. 
Mulder's late night telephone calls to discuss a case or shoot the
breeze didn't stop, although at times his voice was hushed and I knew
that Lillian was asleep nearby.  And when we were on the road
investigating a case, I would watch with sleep-heavy eyes as he would
drag himself out of the other bed in my motel room and away from
whatever late night horror movie or sports wrap-up show that had
caught his interest for a few moments before he would toss the empty
takeout cartons into the trash can on the way to his room.  Through
the thin walls of the various nameless motel rooms, I could hear the
low murmur of his voice as he called Lillian to wish her a good night
or tell her that he missed her.

So I was caught off-guard by the suddenly negative feelings that had
assaulted me when Lillian had walked into our office last February to
pick Mulder up for their trip to Graceland.  I had already been angry
with Mulder for the heavy-handed way he had tossed the assignment at
me.  A little something to keep me busy while the boss was gone...
that was
how it had seemed.  I had taken a look around the office and felt
an intense wave of dissatisfaction with my life.  To my way of
thinking, I had given up everything else in my life for the job.  I
had drifted away from friends and family.  The few attempts I had
made at establishing a relationship with a man never lasted.  Most
men were not as accepting of Mulder's presence in my life as Lillian
was about my presence in his.  They didn't understand our friendship,
the sudden trips out of town or the random phone calls... and they
were threatened by it.   The few vacations I took - I took alone.  

I had put my career and my life on the line time and again for our
partnership - for our work - for our friendship.   And in the back of
my mind, I knew, even though I wouldn't admit it at the time, that I
had sacrificed my health on the altar of Mulder's quest.  I had taken
a look around the office toward the dark corner that Mulder had
indicated was mine and I saw the rickety chair and the long low table
crammed with books and files and newspaper articles - all Mulder's. 
The poster on the wall, the trophies on the shelves, the basketball,
the framed picture of a lost sister - all Mulder's.  There was
nothing in that room that I could claim as my own - nothing that said
Dana Scully worked there, toiled there.  His, not mine.  Then Lillian
pushed open the door and the dim light from hallway glinted weakly
against the nameplate on the door and the quiet rage that had been
simmering for days exploded quietly inside of me.

Mulder's look of pained confusion at my attitude disappeared into a
happy grin as Lillian brushed her lips across his.   She was
chattering excitedly about the thrills of an unexpected vacation and
I forced myself to remain coolly polite.  The teasing curve of
Mulder's lips disappeared when he turned to me and dropped a piece of
paper on top of the file that he had set down on his desk.

"That's the name and number of the hotel we'll be staying at," he
told me.  "You know my cell phone number," he said.  Slinging his arm
around Lillian's waist, he steered her toward the door.  "Call me if
you need my help," he flung over his shoulder and then they were
gone.  I bit back an oath and fumed that I had better things - more
important things - to do with my time than to chase down one of his
stupid leads.

Twenty minutes later I was on my way to Philadelphia.

I leaned forward and spun the taps, sending a fresh wave of hot
water into the tub; then I lathered up the washcloth and began to
furiously scrub my skin - trying to wash away the shame and sickness
that crawled over my body when I remembered that time.  To this day,
I was mortified by my behavior in Philadelphia and my attitude toward
Mulder and Lillian.  At the time I didn't understand what was driving
my anger and my dissatisfaction with the course of my life.  

Everything I had said that weekend had been a lie.  I wasn't acting
out against the authority figures in my life.  I wasn't angry with
Mulder for giving me an assignment and expecting me to do it.  I was
angry because he had a life - a good life with Lillian - and I was
afraid.  I was afraid that I would never be happy.  I was afraid of
the truth that whispered to me in the darkness of my dreams - 'You
have something I need' - it said.  

I had drinks with Ed Jerse because he was handsome and interested in
me.  I allowed my body to be marked by the needles of the tattoo
artist because I wanted to do something wild and naughty - something
that Agent Scully would never do.  And I went with Ed to his
apartment because it had been so long since someone had looked at me
with desire in his eyes.  So long since someone had touched me with
trembling fingers.  So long since the passion I heard in a man's
voice had been directed at me instead of a case.  So long since
anyone had taken the time to look past Scully to the woman inside.  I
went with him because I wanted... I wanted...  I went with him
because I was so tired of being lonely and because I wanted to know
the warmth and the passion of another's hand.

In the end it all went horribly wrong and two weeks later I knew... 
Never again would the hands of a lover touch me; never again would I
know the whisper of a kiss being trailed across my skin.  I learned
then, and I acknowledged now, that it would be the gentle familiarity
of my mother's hands and the comforting strength of my friend's arms
that would be the last touches I'd be destined to enjoy as they eased
me from this world and into what I could only hope and desperately
pray would be the welcoming embrace of a sister lost and a father
gone before.

*******************
end of chapter two



"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."

~ Fox Mulder, "FTF"

'Believe the Words'
http://char.chaffin.com 


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Title:  To Love Somebody (CH. 3 of 11)
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...


~ Chapter Three ~

When I overslept for the third time in a week, I knew two
certainties: that Skinner was going to call me out for missing the
first twenty minutes or so of an important meeting - and the very
real possibility of having to make a choice between the women I cared
so much about.

I stood in the shower with as hot a stream of water as I could
stand, waiting for the steam and the pounding spray to ease the
tension away.  Never a sound sleeper, I'd found myself with too
busy a mind to sleep at night and too much to have to think about
during the day.  I was not eating properly, walking through my hours
at work without that clear head in which I'd always taken such pride.
It was only a matter of time before Skinner reamed me about that, as
well.  And I would not blame him a bit.  I was not performing the way
a good agent should perform.  My only saving grace was the knowledge
that at least I was office-bound for the rest of the month and not
out in the field.  Bumbling around the basement was marginally better
than out on a case with your peers snickering behind their badges.

Drying off, I peered into the fogged up mirror over the sink; even
through the mist I could see how tired and red my eyes looked.  I was
accustomed to functioning with just a few hours' sleep per night but
in the past month those nightly hours had not been restful.  And it
didn't seem to matter where I slept - my apartment or with Lilly - or
on Scully's sofa... I couldn't shut down my brain.

In just a little over a month I'd watched Scully's health take a
plunge that frightened me and violently tilted my world.  The cancer
had its grip firmly locked upon her and each day I'd see its ravages
on her face and hear it in her voice.  I knew she wouldn't give up -
Dana Scully is so much stronger than that - but her body could only
take so much abuse.  And her courageous heart might not be enough to
combat the invading enemy within.

As I dressed for work, thanking my lucky stars I'd miss nothing more
than the first ten minutes of yet another importantly dull meeting...
I pondered the way my need to be with Scully was affecting my still-
evolving life with Lilly.

We'd been together two years and I knew Lilly wanted that total,
final commitment.  What marriage-minded woman wouldn't?  And I knew
she was marriage, as well as children-minded.  Women like her -
nurturing and caring - always were.  I'd seen her with her nephews;
she was crazy about them.  She'd stop in the middle of a street to
coo at a baby.  

I knew she loved me, was in love with me - she'd told me.  Oh, I
don't believe she'd meant to; it just slipped out one night.  We were
lying in bed at my place and I was almost asleep.  Lilly had made
such sweet, generous love to me, and in need of some strong comfort
I'd taken all she'd had to give me and had managed (I'd hoped) to
return in some measure her generosity.

Maybe she'd thought I'd fallen asleep; I might have dozed a little -
but I was fully awake when those whispered, tremulous words were
pressed into my neck, her head against my shoulder.

"Fox... I love you so..."  And I pretended to sleep because I could
not face those words of hers - not yet.

On the way to work, still running late, I contemplated my feelings
for Lilly.  I care for her, so much.  She's easygoing and loving,
intelligent and humorous.  She's lovely and soft and her eyes sparkle
at me.  I care for Lilly.  But it's not the kind of love I'd thought
would develop - it's just not there yet.  After two years I'd expect
it to be there.

I've told myself it's the nature of my job; enough of a hazard to
give me serious pause and hesitancy when considering a long-term
relationship.  The woman I marry could easily become a widow three
days after the ceremony; children I father could become fatherless in
the blink of an eye.  I'd seen it happen to other agents - I wouldn't
be able to imagine it happening to a family I'd helped create.  I
found myself stumbling over the words I know Lilly waits to hear.

Now I was suddenly not so sure.  Now I wondered if something -
someone - else was holding me back.

I spent what was left of my morning attending a meeting that bored
me and that couldn't even begin to capture my attention.  Luckily for
me, Skinner seemed equally preoccupied and aside from one sharp
glance in my direction when I first slipped in, he'd mostly ignored
me.  I sat and twiddled a pencil between my fingers and worried about
Scully.  She'd been released from the hospital a few days ago and was
at home, supposedly resting.  Somehow I doubted she was resting as
much as her doctors had prescribed.  I had a lunch date with Lilly
but had impulsively canceled it - I'd called on my cell phone and had
left a message for her explaining that I needed to visit Scully.  I'd
been strangely relieved to be able to give that message to her phone,
and not to her.

As soon as the meeting broke I was out of my chair and headed to the
door.  I didn't want to answer the now-standard question, "How's
Agent Scully doing?"  

Almost out the door... a few more steps...

"Agent Mulder, wait."  Shit - Skinner.  I turned to him, fighting to
hide my impatience.  He walked up to me, staring hard, no doubt ready
to comment on my half-assed shave job or my red eyes.  His own shrewd
orbs raked me up and down, then he spoke in a row rumble.

"You look like shit, Agent.  When was the last time you got a decent
night's sleep?  No, don't answer that.  I already know.  How's she
holding up?"  I let out the breath I'd been holding and rubbed at my
eyes, suddenly gratified that I could at least speak my thoughts in
front of someone.

"She has her fair days and her poor days, Sir.  I fight with her on
a daily basis to tell me when she's in pain, when she needs comfort -
someone to talk to.  Sometimes she does and other days she isolates
herself.  It's frustrating."  Skinner nodded and we fell into step
together as we headed for the parking garage, and our respective
vehicles.  I walked him to his car and we stood outside a few minutes
longer, talking about Scully.

"I've called her several times, in between visits when she was in
the hospital.  I get a lot of 'I'm fine, Sir.' I don't believe it for
a minute, of course - but I'm sure you know the feeling."  I nodded
at Skinner, resignedly.

"Oh yeah - I know the feeling.  But sometimes she'll call me, and
she'll talk to me.  About her fears - her worries for the future. 
I'll hold the phone close to my ear and she'll tell me what's on her
mind.  Sometimes I'll go over to her place in the middle of the night
and I'll sit with her.  When she's awake and in pain I'll hold her
hand and we may not talk at all - just sit together.  When she's
asleep I sit there next to her bed and watch her sleep."  I didn't
add the feelings of anguish and despair I'd have, seeing what this
horrible disease had done to Scully; how it had changed her.  I
didn't say that - I didn't need to.  My boss nodded in understanding,
and regarded me with curiosity.

"How's your lady friend handling this, Agent?  Lillian, isn't it?" 
My head jerked around at the mention of Lilly.  Skinner had only met
her once in two years.  'Lady friend' - yes, that would be a good way
to describe her... I smiled.  Well, more of a grimace, I suppose -
and as Skinner climbed into his car and rolled down his window, I
chose my answer carefully.

"Well, she's been very understanding, Sir - but it's not easy for
her either.  I cancel a lot of dates."  My voice trailed off; I was
remembering how many dates I'd either cut short or canceled, since
Scully's diagnosis.  And I knew Lilly was trying to hold her
impatience with me.  I couldn't be everywhere at once and the strain
of dividing myself between Lilly and Scully was beginning to make
itself felt.

"Well, Agent - I suppose the logical question would be - how badly
do you want your relationship with Lillian to succeed?"  Skinner's
eyes were as enigmatic as always as I raised mine to stare at him. 
Skinner nodded at me and with a short wave backed out of his parking
spot.  As I walked to my car I couldn't help but wonder...

How badly, indeed?

Scully was asleep when I let myself into her apartment. I walked
into her room and perched on the edge of her bed; I reached out a
hand and gently stroked her hair.  With her face relaxed in sleep
Scully looked as young as she'd looked years ago when we'd first
started working together, the shadows underneath her eyes eased out
and the strain of her illness smoothed away.  As I slipped my hand
down and linked fingers with her, she came awake slowly and the
sleepy smile she gave me was easy to return.  

"Hi... what're you doing here in the middle of the day, Mulder?" 
Her voice was thick and she yawned as she spoke.  I shrugged and
squeezed her hand.

"I just wanted to see you, that's all."  I gazed at her, noticing
that awake, all the strain of the cancer became more apparent on her
face.  The ravages of her treatments showed, in her eyes and around
her mouth.  

A sudden squeeze back of my hand brought me to the awareness that I
had been staring hard at her, wordlessly.  I met her inquiring
glance, and took a deep breath.

"Truth, Scully - how are you?"  She opened her mouth, probably to
utter the usual retort - then she huffed out a little breath of
impatience, and her eyes met mine.

"Awful, Mulder... I feel awful.  The treatments still leave me
nauseous; it's getting worse instead of better.  This morning I raked
a hand through my hair and for the first time came away with a lot in
my hand.  I find myself forgetting things, Mulder - Charlie's
birthday.  I can't even remember my little brother's birthday!"  

Scully's voice broke and so did my heart; I groaned in despair and
gathered her close, feeling her ball her fists into my shirt as her
tears soaked my neck.  I held her tightly and rocked her as she cried
it all out.  I could feel myself fighting to hold my own tears at
bay, swallowing the lump in my throat, enough to speak the words of
encouragement that she so urgently needed.  I parted my lips to speak
- but nothing came out; the trite phrases I'd said to her on other
occasions stuck in my vocal chords and refused to be set free. 
Instead I saw my hands slip from her frail body and cup her face;
brushing unsteady thumbs across her wet cheeks... leaning in to press
her trembling lips with mine.  And the tiny hiccup of surprise she
uttered against my mouth was accepted gratefully as it registered
within my head, that Dana Scully was alive and vital despite the
cancer slowly killing her.  Alive... in my arms.

For now.

It was our first kiss on the mouth and I told myself I was kissing a
friend, or perhaps a beloved sister.  While her lips clung to mine
and her hands gripped my hair; while my fingers stroked her cheeks
and my mouth moved on hers, I told myself some lies and I'm sure
Scully told herself a few as well.  Oddly neither of us thought to
bring our tongues into play.  And equally oddly, the lack thereof
only made the kiss more intense - as if the denial of intimacy caused
a rush that neither of us could ignore.

Long seconds later I released her mouth; kissing Scully had been so
sweet. Sweeter than any kiss I'd ever experienced... and all the more
precious to me because our time was running out.  I could feel it
slipping through my fingers, the sand of her trickling down, grain by
grain - within an hourglass of her life.  I looked into her face,
noting the tinge of pink and so damn proud to have been the one to
put it there.  For one wild moment I wanted to chuck it all; fuck the
job and to hell with the relationship. I wanted to spend my every
waking hour just finding ways to make Scully's days happy - I would
devote it all to her, gladly - if it meant her remaining time could
be free of tears and loneliness.

I could do this... but Scully would refuse me that sort of decision -
would see it as a sacrifice, and would not let me.  

For endless moments after the kiss, we stared at each other, I think
neither of us knowing quite what to say.  Finally, I cupped the back
of her head and pressed her into my shoulder, cradling her gently. 
Under my hand her hair was dry and brittle, and I fought a losing
battle against comparing it with Lilly's silky mass.  And of course
I'd remembered the feel of Scully's hair before the treatments - just
as soft and silky as Lilly's.  One more outward reminder of this
insidious monster -

At that moment, if cancer had been a tangible creature, I would have
killed it with my bare hands - for forcing me to feel a need to
choose; to notice a difference and to make a comparison.

"Mulder... why?  Why the kiss?"  Scully's low, choking words reached
my ears as her head moved back so as to better see the face I quickly
erased of sadness, and I managed a half-assed smile as I looked down
at her.  My words came out in a rasp.

"Because we both needed it - and because I wanted it.  Is that okay
with you?"  I held her gaze and watched the smile fill those baby
blues first, before it spilled over into her face and curved her lips.

"Yes, Mulder - it's okay with me..." 

I leaned her back into the pillows and pulled the blanket up over
her shoulders, and held her hand as I guarded her sleep.

I never called Lillian back, that day.

**************** 

The quarterly budget meeting ended around twelve-thirty and I
hurried to my office.  Dropping a stack of files in the middle of my
desk, I bent over to open the bottom drawer and grabbed my purse from
within.  I was supposed to meet Fox for lunch in fifteen minutes and
I wanted to touch up my lipstick and run a brush through my hair
before leaving the office.  As I straightened up, I noticed the
message waiting light blinking on my telephone.

I set my purse down and picked up the phone.  Tucking the receiver
under my chin, I quickly dialed the code to access my voice mail. 
Great, I sighed.  Three messages.  I glanced at my watch impatiently
as I listened to the beginning of the first message.  Not important,
I decided and quickly pressed a button to skip to the next message. 
I listened for nearly a minute as one of the junior partners in the
firm droned on in an outraged voice over the 'hatchet job' I had
performed on the latest expense voucher he had turned in to
accounting.  "Next time, don't take your mistress out on the company
dime," I muttered as I cut the message off in mid-drone and skipped
ahead again.  Eager to get through this last message so that I would
not be late for my lunch date, my fingers hovered over the keypad. 
The caller had barely begun speaking when I impatiently pressed the
pound key to skip over the call.

"Damn," I said as I realized that I had cut off a message from Fox. 
I punched in my access code again and rolled my eyes in frustration
as I waded my way through the first two messages again.  Finally, I
heard Fox's low rumble as his message played in my ear.

"Lilly, I'm so sorry, but I'm going to have to cancel our lunch
date.  I thought I'd stop by and check up on Scully, maybe take some
lunch to her place.  She's still not eating and I'd like to try to
bully her into eating some soup or something."

His voice had been brisk as he spoke, then suddenly it softened.

"I'm really sorry, sweetheart.  I promise I'll make it up to you.  I
just... you've been so great about all of this, but I... I hate the
thought of her lying in that apartment all alone."

I could hear the muffled sound of someone speaking in the background
and then -

"Lilly, honey - I've got to get to this meeting.  I promise I'll
call you later.  Bye."

And then he was gone.  I played the message back a second time and
tossed my purse into the bottom drawer of the desk as I sank
down into my chair.  I sat quietly for several long moments as I
willed my racing heart to slow, then I pushed my chair away from the
desk and stood.  I grabbed five dollars from my wallet and walked
down the hallway to the elevator.  As I rode the elevator down to the
lobby, I kept my eyes glued to the electronic panel that displayed
the floor numbers as the elevator swiftly made its way downward from
the fiftieth floor.  My heels clicked across the marble tiles as I
strode across the lobby to the small luncheonette that was attached
to my office building.

He hates the thought that she is lying all alone in her apartment,
but it doesn't seem to bother him that he's left me lying alone in my
apartment three nights this week, I thought as I viciously yanked a
plastic container of fruit salad out of one of the refrigerated
cases.  I smacked the plastic container and a bottle of diet iced tea
onto the counter and fished the five-dollar bill out of my pocket.  I
stuffed my change into my pocket and snatching up the bag containing
my meager lunch, I stalked back across the lobby to the bank of
elevators.  

She's dying, I reminded myself.  You're not being fair to him, I
thought as I entered my office and closed the door behind me.  I sank
back down into my chair and pried the lid from the container of fruit
salad.  Staring sightlessly downward, my eyes filled with sudden
tears, until the small mountain of fruit was a blur of reds and
greens and pale, pale orange.  Sniffing, I reached for the telephone
and pressed the first button on my speed dial.  The phone rang only
one time before I lunged forward to slam the receiver back into the
cradle.  I can't call him, I thought.  I shouldn't.  What would I
say?  My fingertips stroked idly over the slick plastic of the phone
and I resolutely lifted the receiver again and punched down another
button on my speed dial.

The phone rang three times before it was answered.

"Hello?"  I closed my eyes with relief as the beloved voice drifted
over the telephone lines.

"Gran?" I ask softly.  She laughed lightly at the sound of my voice
and my lips curved upward in response.  This, I thought, this was the
right call to make.

"Lilly!  Darling girl!  What's wrong?"  Her voice was sharp and
knowing and I briefly tried to pretend that nothing was bothering me -
even though I knew it was useless.  My grandmother would pry the
truth out of me in minutes - and that was exactly what I had been
counting on when I picked up the phone.  Still, there was a ritual to
be maintained...

"What makes you think that something is wrong Gran?" I say, trying
to inject a teasing note into my voice.  "Can't a girl just give her
grandmother a call if she wants to?"  Gran made a tsking sound and I
could picture the slow, sad shaking of her head.

"Lillian Maxwell, I have been able to tell when you are lying from
the time you were able to say your first word," she said tartly. 
"Now, what is so wrong that you have to call me in the middle of the
afternoon when you know my shows are about to start?"  Her comment
had the desired effect when I snorted out a tiny laugh.  Gran is
simply not the type to spend her day watching game shows and soap
operas.  The truth is that I was lucky that she was even home.  Gran
keeps busy volunteering at the library for reading hour after school
or by getting together with her girlfriends for an afternoon of
bridge.  She always has something going on.  She tells me that an
active life keeps her young.

I tucked the phone under my chin and listlessly poked at the fruit
salad with a plastic fork.  "Oh, Gran," I sighed heavily.  "What
isn't wrong?" I groaned.  And she listened quietly as everything
spilled out of me in a rush.  Dana's cancer and its effect on Fox and
our relationship.  The canceled dates.  The distracted look on his
face when he was away from her.  The constant telephone calls.  Gran
listened and made small encouraging noises until I slumped back
against the imitation leather of my chair in exhaustion.

"Oh my sweet girl," she finally said.  "I wish I could wave a magic
wand and tell you that everything is going to be all right."  I heard
her sigh softly into the telephone.  "Let me ask you something," she
began.

"Sure Gran," I said as I lifted a chunk of cantaloupe from the
container and began to nibble on it.  I could hear her lifting the
kettle from stove; Gran says that the ritual of brewing a pot of tea
helps her to think.

"Are you afraid that Fox is falling in love with his partner?"  I
sucked in a deep breath at the blunt question.  Gran had sifted
through everything that I had said to get down to the base level.

"Maybe," I whispered in a choked voice.  I dropped the piece of
fruit back into the container, all pretense of having an appetite
gone when Gran gave voice to my deepest fear.  I couldn't see her,
but I knew she was nodding as she let the tea steep in the pot.

"Okay," she said softly.  "Then let me ask you another question. 
Before his partner became ill, did you ever worry about the nature of
their relationship?"  I instinctively started to shake my head no,
but I paused and forced myself to really think about my answer.

"Noooo," I said slowly.  "No.  There was never any question.  Fox
always made it very clear to me that Dana is his partner and his best
friend.  I never had any cause to doubt him," I told her.  I closed
my eyes and listened to the rhythmic clinking of Gran's teaspoon
against the delicate china of the teacup and I gave an involuntary
smile as I pictured her lifting the cup to her lips to gently blow on
the hot liquid.  Gran was a firm believer that it was acceptable to
drink coffee from a mug, but that tea should be sipped out of the
prettiest, most translucent of china cups.  

"And did Dana ever give you cause to believe that she felt more for
Fox than friendship?" Gran asked, prodding gently.  Again, I forced
myself to think back.  From the moment I had met Dana, I knew that
she cared deeply for Fox.  Over the years, I had come to know that
she loved him - and that he loved her - but it was a love based in
friendship.  It was a love that had never threatened my relationship
with Fox.  There had been times, early in my love affair with Fox,
when I wondered if Dana's cool, reserved attitude toward me was the
result of some deeper, hidden feelings that she had for him.  But as
time passed, I realized that we were simply different people, with
different interests and vastly different outlooks on the world.  

"No, Gran," I said.  "I've never questioned the depth of her
feelings for him or his feelings before.  They are often away for
days on end when they are working on a case and I've never been
threatened by it," I told her honestly.  "Until now."

I heard Gran settle the china cup into its saucer.  "Well," she said
finally.  "I'm not saying that you don't have cause to worry," she
told me softly.  "But I think you need to speak with him, Lilly," she
counseled.

"I know," I sighed as I brushed a tear from the corner of my eye. 
"I know, Gran," I said.  "But it's hard... I don't know what to say." 
I sniffed and yanked a tissue out of the box that was perched on the
top of my desk.  I dabbed at my eyes as I let Gran's loving, familiar
voice wash over and reassure me.

"Tell him the truth," she advised.  "Tell him your fears," she said.
Her soft voice paused for a moment, thiking... then she gave me her
final words of advice.

"Fox is a good man," she said.  "But he's spreading himself too
thin.  Don't force him to make a choice," she warned.  "Lilly - he
needs you now, even if he isn't showing it.  But that doesn't mean
that you don't need things from him as well.  Just tell him the
truth."

After I thanked her and told her that I loved her, I hung up the
phone and thought about everything she had said to me.  I nodded
sharply and grabbed a file from the stack on the center of my desk
and began to study it while I nibbled on my lunch.

I had come to a decision.

**********************
end of chapter three


"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."

~ Fox Mulder, "FTF"

'Believe the Words'
http://char.chaffin.com 


To post, mail to xfc-ATXC@yahoogroups.com
To subscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
To unsubscribe, mail xfc-ATXC-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com 

Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to http://docs.yahoo.com/info/terms/ 

Title:  To Love Somebody
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...



~ Chapter Four ~

The knock on my door came just as I was finishing cramming my
dishwasher with several days' worth of dirty dishes.  I hadn't been
home very much and since my housecleaning skills always left a lot to 
be desired, the dishes were usually the last to receive my
grudging attention.  Drying my hands on a towel, I walked to the door
and smiled when I beheld Lilly framed in the doorway, a bottle of
wine in her hands.  I dropped a kiss on her upturned mouth and
ushered her inside, taking her sweater and laying it over the back of
a chair.  She handed me the bottle and smiled at me brightly.

"An apology for the last-minute visit, Fox - but I'm glad you're
home.  I've missed you these past couple of days."  I set the bottle
down on a small table near the door and curled my arms around her
waist, giving her a big hug.  She smelled so nice and felt good in my
arms.  Leaning back a little, I stared into her lovely face, and
wondered why, when it seemed to me I finally had all that I wanted -
I couldn't take it to the next level of commitment.  I had wanted
this for so long, and now it was within my grasp...

"I've missed you too, Lilly.  Come sit down.  I'll pour the wine and
we'll talk, okay?"  She nodded and perched on my sofa as I walked to
the kitchen and dug out a corkscrew, and then scrabbled in my
cupboards for wine glasses.  I was moving slowly, avoiding the re-
entry into my living room.  I knew what she wanted to talk about; I'd
known since her phone call, an hour ago.  It didn't take much of a
profiler to figure it out.  I'd been missing in action a lot lately,
even when we were together.  I knew with certainty that Lilly wanted
to know where she stood in my life.

Walking back onto the living room I set the glasses down and
wrestled with the bottle for a few minutes, finally working the cork
free and pouring some into both glasses.  I handed her one and we
drank in silence, with me waiting to hear what she had to say and
both dreading and looking forward to getting everything out in the
open.

"Fox... first of all I just want you to know that I am here for you,
no matter what - whenever you need a shoulder, I'm here.  I know this
has got to be so difficult for you - your best friend in the world
is so sick, and dying..."  

Fortunately for Lilly her eyes were lowered as she said that dreaded
word; she'd taken a quick swallow of wine right after she spoke and I
know she never saw what had to be one serious flare of anger in my
own eyes as I processed what she'd said.  My fingers clenched around
the glass; she didn't see that, either.  I fought to keep my temper,
knowing Lilly meant well.  She would never intentionally say
something to cause me such direct pain - it simply wasn't in her
nature.  She truly wanted to help me, I knew this.  And there wasn't
anything she could do for me because in my mind and in my heart
Scully was going to beat this.  She was going to live.  She had to
live; I would accept nothing less.  So I drank my wine and sighed
into my empty glass and turned to face Lilly on the sofa, choosing my
words very carefully.

"Lilly, thank you.  I know these past weeks haven't been easy for
you either.  I've been gone a lot and have been canceling dates left
and right.  I appreciate so much your understanding."  I reached out
my hand and clasped hers, twining my fingers around her palm as I
searched for the words I wanted to say.

"Dana Scully means a great deal to me, and I can't let this defeat
her.  I won't contemplate for a second her passing from my life.  She
would never give up on me, if the situations were reversed and I was
going through something like this.  I have to be there for her when
she needs me, Lilly."  For one tiny second I saw the smallest drop of
disappointment in her eyes.  And I wanted to say I hadn't seen it -
that Lilly couldn't be that selfish.  But as quickly as that thought
had streaked across my mind it dissipated.  Lilly couldn't help being
human, and I would probably react in much the same manner, had it
been me, trying to keep a relationship going.  

I tugged on Lilly's hand and pulled her into my arms, needing to
feel her vitality and her warmth.  Fighting Scully's battles with her
was emotionally exhausting.  I was so tired, but I needed to make
Lilly understand, and I had to re-affirm in some way my desire to
keep striving for that 'Joe Average' life.  I buried my face into
Lilly's soft hair, resolutely ignoring the small voice inside of me
that screamed aloud how healthy, and whole, and silky and firm and
rounded and real the woman in my arms felt, compared to... No!  I
would not go there.  I refused to go there.

It would break my heart to go there.

I raised my head and met Lilly's loving gaze for two brief seconds,
before covering her mouth with mine.  And I was suddenly ravenous,
for feminine warmth and tenderness; for the balm of comfort she could
offer; for the love I knew I needed yet wasn't quite ready to accept.
I let my lips and tongue soothe her immediate worries and allowed my
body to be led by its own primal need to seek the physical release it
craved.  I pressed her down into the sofa cushions, my hands stroking
her skin in wide, firm sweeps, trailing kisses over her cheeks and
down her neck.  When her pretty dress got in the way I removed it
carefully and draped it over the back of the sofa.  I slipped the
straps of her lacy bra down over shoulders scented with delicate
perfume and I kissed a path over each of her full breasts, thinking
how voluptuous Lilly was compared to Scully's tiny slenderness.  And
as soon as that thought crossed me I shook it off, more determined
than ever to submerge myself in my lover's tender embrace, and
concentrate only on her.

Our lovemaking was silent and intense and although her need for me
soaked into my consciousness in a way I could not return - not yet -
I gave her all of myself that I was capable of giving, at that
moment.  I responded to every broken moan that escaped her throat as
I made love to her with my hands and my body; as I cupped her hips
and opened her gently and gazed down into her half-closed eyes, I
moved against her, and within her eager heat.  I felt her legs close
around me as I thrust deeper, and when her moans became disjointed
vows of love, gasped into my ear as I shuddered and clenched inside
her... I told myself it was only the heat of the moment and that
Lilly had only meant she cared, each time she'd whispered, "Love you,
oh, Fox... love you."

Much later, in the tangled sheets of my bed, dozing off with Lilly
curled into my side, I told myself she hadn't realized what she'd
been saying - and I suppose thinking that way made it easier to
accept my hesitancy to commit - and to take that last small step.  

At least that's what I told myself.

*****************

A week of heaven.  Seven days of feeling like the luckiest woman on
the face of the earth - of being the envy of other women.  I suppose
I should have been satisfied with it - content.  It was far more than
a lot of people had; this I knew.  

It was a hundred times more than Dana Scully had.  And I did feel a
twinge of shame for thinking that way, I truly did.  It wasn't like
me to be unkind in thought.  I tried to tell myself I wouldn't
normally be so unkind, but there were extenuating circumstances.  For
the first time in my life I was in love.  And being in love does odd
things to a body.  It makes them insecure and achy; makes them dream
and plot and plan for the future regardless of whether or not the
object of their affection is of the same mindset.  And in my case it
made me want to be selfish, to want to cut out anyone in Fox's life
who could claim a piece of his personal time.  I knew it was unfair
and unworthy of me - but I couldn't stop myself.

Last week when I'd called Fox and then gone over to see him and to
talk it out, the evening had not ended quite the way I'd hoped.  Oh,
going to bed with him and being the recipient of his tender
lovemaking was wonderful, as always.  He'd made exquisite love to me
and I fell asleep cocooned in the warmth of his strong arms with his
breath puffing in my ear.  He had fallen asleep almost immediately
and I had stifled my disappointment at not being able to talk to him.
I knew he'd been very tired - I knew he'd been burning the candle at
both ends.  And I knew I was not being a supportive girlfriend.  But
I'd wanted - needed - to firm up the groundwork of our relationship;
to choose boundaries and stay within them.  I wanted Fox to tell me
that I was numero uno in his life - that I came first regardless of
his partner and her quality of life.  

Lying there in his arms, I spent half the night beating myself up
for begrudging Dana a part of his time.  I spent the other half
vindicating my attitude.  I finally dozed off to sleep jealously
hoarding the deep warmth emanating from my lover's body and promising
myself to re-double my efforts in my quest to be everything Fox
Mulder needed - friend as well as lover -  confidante, helpmate...

Future wife material.  Oh yes, in the back of my subconscious mind,
already heavy with sleep and sinking down into the vacuum of my
dreams... God help me.  I was that needy.  I was that determined.

I spent the weekend with Fox, and it was wonderful.  I never went
home after Friday night for anything except a change or two of
clothing, and to water my plants or do a little cooking.  We went out
to dinner on Saturday night and spent all of Sunday at the lake - and
luck was with us for Fox's phone never rang once.  He was between
cases and mostly office-bound during the week, which meant the
weekend was ours.

Fox was wonderful; caring and loving and tender with me.  A tiny
voice deep inside me kept whispering that he was acting this way
because I'd more or less pushed him into it.  I as resolutely pushed
that voice so far within that it became a distant echo that I could
easily ignore.  I told myself Fox wouldn't do anything he truly
didn't want to do; that in declaring myself on Friday night when we'd
made love, I'd opened up his eyes once and for all and it was a much-
needed revelation.  All that following week Fox really did act like a
man in love.  He never said the words, but sometimes actions spoke
louder than words.  

That's what I told myself.

Dana had come back to work and seemed to be holding steady, so Fox
had the days with her in the office.  I had asked him on Monday how
she was doing and his smiling answer had been short but did reassure
me that perhaps seeing her at work would be enough for him.

"She's tired, Lilly - but she says she feels better.  I'm going to
keep an eye on her at work and make sure she doesn't overdo it."  I
had smiled back at him and nodded, relieved.  Maybe things were
starting to look up.  I sent Dana a 'Thinking of You' card and looked
forward to the rest of the week.

We met at his apartment every evening after work.  It was a
relatively quiet week for both of us, and getting together to spend
the evening, and then the night, was making me feel positively
pampered.  By the end of the week my confidence was at an all-time
high and I felt much more secure about our relationship.  I cooked
for him on Friday evening and after we cleaned up the dinner dishes
we snuggled on the sofa together and I did my best to gently prod Fox
into letting me know more of his life.  

I'd been his girlfriend for over two years and so much about him was
still a mystery to me.  I had only met his mother twice, and he
rarely spoke of his father, who I knew was deceased - or his missing
sister.  His mother was a stately, still-lovely woman who had greeted
me with conservative politeness on the two occasions I'd met her.  I
had seen photographs of his father and his sister Samantha.  Fox said
she'd been kidnapped when she was a child, and had never been found. 
I'd let it go for two years; curious as hell but determined not to
prod and risk pushing him away.  

On that Friday evening I did the one thing I swore I'd never do: I
prodded.  Confident enough in the way Fox had responded to me over
the prior weekend and suddenly more secure of my place in his life
than I'd been in a long time, I tried my best to guide the
conversation into areas probably best left alone.

I waited until we'd settled on the sofa with slices of pineapple
cake that I'd made at home and brought over.  Cups of coffee sat on
the low cocktail table in front of the sofa and as I curled up next
to Fox and watched him eat his cake, I thought for the umpteenth time
how utterly beautiful this man was.  More than outward good looks;
the world was full of handsome men and if one wanted only that level
of beauty the pickings were generous.  There was so much more to Fox
Mulder, and the beauty within, the beauty of his soul... it shone
through those amazing hazel eyes and reached out to embrace the world
with the wonder of a man-child whose enchantment hadn't really dimmed
all that much - not yet.  From the little he'd told me about his job,
I knew he'd seen some truly horrible things. But it hadn't hardened
him, in the two years I had known him.  It hadn't laid him low.  I
prayed in that moment that nothing in his life would take him down
like that - and if it did then I would be by his side to help him.  

So we ate our cake and made small talk, and I finished my dessert
and most of my coffee before I broached the subject of his family.  I
truly felt it was necessary for Fox to open up to me, and finally let
me in.  Two years was a long time to be involved with someone at this
level of intimacy and still be left so much in the dark.

"Fox - how is your mother?  Have you heard from her lately?"  I was
proud of the way I'd chosen to bring it up; asking after his mother
seemed a good way to begin.  Fox regarded me curiously at the mention
of her, but answered agreeably enough.

"I suppose she's well; I haven't spoken to her lately.  Usually if
she needs me she calls."  Fox finished off his cake and relaxed
against the sofa cushions with his cup, obviously not prepared to say
any more.  I studied him, this sometimes-enigmatic lover of mine -
and suddenly it was of paramount importance that he talk about his
family - now, tonight.  In some insecure part of my brain I
rationalized the need for this confidence as his assurance that I was
part of his life and a much-desired ingredient in the recipe of his
future.  I told myself that if Fox loved me he would want to share
all aspects of himself with me, and I had to know that very minute. 
I took a deep breath and plunged in.

"You must miss her when you don't hear from her, Fox - she seems
like a very special lady.  I enjoyed meeting her; maybe we could go
up and see her.  I bet she'd like that."  As soon as I said it I
realized I'd made a mistake, for the look on Fox's face was a clear
indication that I'd somehow overstepped whatever bounds he'd set for
me - and the knowledge that I had been set into boundaries in the
first place... it scared me.  

Without answering me Fox set down his empty cup, then stood and
collected the plates and forks, carrying them into the kitchen.  I
heard the clatter of dishes and silverware in the sink, followed by
running water.  I sat on the sofa mentally berating myself for
opening my mouth and saying anything.  And I immediately redeemed
myself by rationalizing that I had every right to assume the man I
loved would be willing and eager to incorporate me into his family
life.  

I looked up as Fox re-entered the living room and sat back down on
the sofa.  He picked up my hand, which had been resting in my lap,
and encased it in his warm palm - and it was several more seconds
before either of us spoke.

"Fox, I'm sorry -"  My voice trailed off when he squeezed my fingers.

"It's all right, Lilly.  Your comment just took me by surprise,
that's all.  Look - my mother and I - well, we're not close.  Neither
of us feel the need to get together frequently.  She knows if she
needs me she can call me and I'll go right up there as soon as I can
get away.  She has a lot of friends and she spends most of her time
with them."  The explanation seemed purposely vague to me, and of
course I couldn't leave it alone.

"But I would think that in light of the loss of her husband, and a
child... she'd want you around her a lot.  It had to be so hard on
her when your sister was kidnapped, and having to come to grips with
not knowing what became of her.  Having to accept her death, find
closure..." Once again my voice broke off, as Fox suddenly let go of
my hand, and stood.  I glanced up into his eyes, and the darkened
hazel of them should have warned me that I was treading in dangerous
waters.  

My need to get closer to Fox blinded me to that danger. And
stupidly, I blundered on.

"I'm sure she and your father were grateful you were safe and sound,
at home with them, Fox - that had to have been a comfort..."  Fox had
tuned away from me while I'd been speaking but as I uttered that last
sentence he whipped around to face me and the storm in his eyes had
gotten much blacker.  

"Lilly... I don't want to talk about this. I told you my mother and
I are not close.  Believe me, it's not necessary to go visiting her;
she would probably not appreciate the gesture.  Let's drop it, okay? 
It doesn't matter; it's not important."   His jaw was set tightly and
it should have been obvious to me that this was one subject he was
unwilling to discuss, for whatever reason.   But honestly, I could
not see why something as important as a family should be kept so
quiet.  And so in my infinite wisdom I chose to pursue it.  Not the
smartest move I ever made...

"Fox, I simply meant that it was good for them that they had you to
ease their pain over losing your sister like that - sometimes another
child can lessen the pain of the one that died -"  Fox's low rasp cut
through my placating explanation and effectively shut me up; not a
moment too soon, either.

"Dammit!  Not now.  I can't talk about this, Lilly.  Not with
everything else I've got on my mind. I can't get into this with you
right now; there's so much you don't understand."  With that, Fox
moved to the front door and locked it, then snapped off the kitchen
light, adding, "It's late, and I have a long day ahead of me
tomorrow.  We should get some sleep."  With a troubled sigh I stood
up and walked ahead of him to the bedroom, knowing I had pushed it
way too far, angered at myself for doing so, trying not to be angry
with him for not opening up to me and relieved that he still wanted
me to stay over.  

I took the bathroom first, cleaning my face and brushing my teeth
with the spare toothbrush I kept there.  I left the light on for Fox
and walked to the bed, slipping underneath the covers and watching
warily as he moved silently around the bedroom, hanging up his
clothes.  He didn't say a word as he entered the bathroom, and I
listened to more running water as he finished up and came back to the
bed.  In the dim light his skin gleamed and his hair looked almost
black.  The sight of him like this never failed to make me ache - and
tonight I ached in a new way, the ache of panic.  I couldn't lose
him.  

The bed dipped as he climbed in, and straightened the covers over
his waist.  Seconds ticked by, with neither of us moving or touching.
It had never felt this awkward between us before, not even that very
first time in his bed when it should have been strange and new and
shaky.  My fault... God.  When would I learn?  I was so busy beating
myself up about it that when Fox turned to me and took me into his
arms, I barely felt it.  Not until I looked up to find his face so
close to mine did I realize that he was holding me and I had started
to cry, feeling the hot tears tracking a burning slide down my face. 
In the silent bedroom Fox's voice was soft and clear.

"Please don't cry, Lilly.  I'm not angry.  I don't like to talk
about my family.  You couldn't have known that, honey.  I'm sorry..."
And he kissed that apology against my parted lips and I sucked it
down into me and kept it against my heart as a promise, that if not
tonight then maybe soon - very soon - Fox would let me in.  And I
tried not to think about the probability that Dana already knew
everything about him - and that I still knew so little...  As Fox
held me in his arms and kissed my shoulders, down over my collarbone
to my breast, I re-doubled my determination to find a way to make him
understand and to know that I was all he would ever need.  I wound
myself all around him, entwining not only my body but my soul with
Fox Mulder - not sure if he accepted all I was giving him - and not
quite certain I could handle it if I discovered that my love wasn't
what he needed.

*****************

Somebody's phone was ringing, from a very far distance.  I could
hear it right on the edge of my consciousness, and it bothered me the
way an annoying mosquito would irritate.  I was too tired to answer
it; that's why God made answering machines.  Dimly I felt the bed dip
a little, and I opened one eye.  In the shadowy bedroom I could just
make out Lilly's arm as she reached over me to grab at the phone.  As
I let myself succumb to sleep, her low tones faded out, and then
right back in again, accompanied by a hand shaking my shoulder.

"Fox... it's for you.  It's Dana."  

I sat up abruptly, all traces of sleep gone, as I took the phone out
of Lilly's hand.  I raised it to my ear with trepidation, knowing
that for Scully to call me this late at night outside of a case, and
as ill as she was... 

"Scully, what's wrong?"  For a moment I could hear her breathing
into the receiver, but she didn't talk.  She breathed, then sniffed
once.  

Jesus... she was crying...  "Scully!  Tell me what's wrong!"  I
pressed the phone to my ear, hard - as if I could will her to speak
to me by applying pressure.  I heard another breath, then her voice;
shaky and thick.

"Mulder... sorry.  I didn't know... you had company.  Sorry to
bother you."  Her voice dropped to almost a whisper, and I knew she
would hang up without telling me anything.  I found myself on my feet
with the phone gripped in my hand, feeling the worst sort of panic.

"Scully, wait!  Don't hang up.  Are you sick?  Tell me!  I'll come
over, okay?  I can be there in fifteen minutes."  Her hurried protest
rang in my ear.

"No Mulder... it's all right.  I'll be all right.  I just... I had
another nosebleed and I guess it scared me.  I couldn't get it to
stop, and..."  Her words ended in a choking cough, and a loud clatter
in my ear told me she'd dropped the phone.  I paced the floor and
repeatedly called her name, feeling the original panic escalating
fast.

"Scully, talk to me!  Come on, what's going on?"  I glanced
at the bed once, meeting Lilly's concerned gaze and wondering if I
could look as frenzied as I felt.  I was on the verge of dropping the
phone myself and tearing over there, when she got back on the phone.

"I'm here, Mulder... sorry.  I - Mulder... I just... I don't know -
I just wanted to talk to you, but I didn't know Lillian was there...
I'm sorry.  I should just - you should go back to sleep.  I'll talk
to you tomorrow."  A ragged breath in my ear, and that sound,
combined with what little she'd told me, was enough for me to break
out into a cold sweat.  Dana Scully is the strongest person I know. 
Her threshold for pain has always amazed me... her repetitious and
notorious "I'm fine", a standard in our partnership.  I kept the
phone to my ear and grabbed my jeans, hopping around on one foot as I
struggled to get them on, not bothering with underwear.  As I fought
to get my clothes on without dropping the phone, I made her tell me
her symptoms.

"Throwing up.  The last time there was blood in it.  My head is
splitting, and I'm so dizzy... had a treatment today but I don't 
think it helped me. My nose wouldn't stop bleeding, Mulder..."  
The fade-out of her voice coincided with another clatter - 
she'd dropped the phone again. I could feel the blood drain out 
of my head, as I shouted into the phone.

"Scully!  SCULLY!  Dammit!"  Lilly was on her feet and at my side as
I yanked on a shirt and scrabbled under the bed for my sneakers.  I
shoved my feet in without unlacing them and turned to her briefly to
press a kiss to her temple.  She followed me to the door, running to
keep up, and I looked back at her one last time before I ran out the
door.

"Lilly, I'm sorry.  Scully is deathly ill.  I've got to get over
there.  I'll call you later - and I'm sorry, honey."  I saw her nod,
worry in her soft eyes, as I ran out the door and down the hall, not
bothering to wait for the elevator.  I ran out of the building and
jumped into my car and roared off... and all I could see in my head
was Scully, bleeding from her little nose and clutching her pounding
head while she vomited with the extreme nausea her treatments caused.
All alone with her cancer, while I lay in bed with my girlfriend...  

I couldn't stand it.  I wouldn't be able to bear it if anything else
happened to Scully; if she did not survive this physical devastation.

I drove like a fiend, all the way to her place.

*****************
end of chapter four

"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."

~ Fox Mulder, "FTF"

'Believe the Words'
http://char.chaffin.com 



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Title:  To Love Somebody
By:  Tess and Char Chaffin
Category:  Mulder/Other, Mulder/Scully
Rating:  R to NC-17
Spoilers:  "Never Again", "Irresistible", "Gethsemane", "Redux I and
II", and other spots during season 4 and 5

Disclaimers:  Ours to play with, ours to love - not ours to profit
from!

Author's Notes:  At the end!
Feeback:  you know we'd adore it!
Tnv099@aol.com and char@chaffin.com

Summary:   In the midst of attempting to have a normal romance,
Mulder's escalating feelings for Scully, and her deteriorating health
due to her advancing cancer, make it impossible for him to commit...



~ Chapter Five ~

My hand searched blindly across the floor for the phone that I had
dropped.  I wrapped my fingers around the slick plastic casing and
lifted the phone back to my ear.

"Mulder?"  I listened for a moment before I realized that he wasn't
on the line any more and I fumbled for the off button.  He was on his
way over here.  Oh God.  If I hadn't felt nauseous before, I
certainly did now.

I don't know what I was thinking when I picked up the phone to call
him at two o'clock in the morning.  The truth was that I wasn't
thinking - I was reacting.  I had been feeling so good all week.  It
had felt wonderful to be back at work and a productive member of
society and I wasn't prepared when the nausea had started shortly
after I had eaten dinner.  I spent a few minutes trying to convince
myself that I had simply eaten something that had disagreed with me,
but I've become very much attuned to my body and I recognized this
symptom even as I tried to deny it.  When the headache began to pound
behind my eyes a short while later, I knew that my week-long reprieve
was over.

When it got to be too bad, when the fear became overwhelming, I
picked up the phone to call Mulder.  Lillian's soft voice when I had
been expecting Mulder's middle-of-the-night mumble had thrown me for
a loop.  I can honestly say that it never occurred to me that she
would be sharing Mulder's bed when I broke down and called him.  In
the last week or so, Lillian had dropped off my radar.  

From the moment Mulder had pressed his lips to mine last week, I
have been hyperaware of him in a way that I had never been before. 
His mouth had tugged lightly at mine and I had buried my fingers in
the springy warmth of his hair and when our lips parted, I had looked
cautiously into his eyes, searching for a sign - for something that
would tell me that he had kissed me as an expression of pity or of
sorrow.  But his eyes had been clear and honest when he told me that
he kissed me because we needed it; that he had kissed me because he
had wanted to.

I had fallen in love with him...  Not at that moment - no.  But like
a princess in a fairy tale, it had taken just the brush of his mouth
over mine to make me realize that I had loved him for years; that I
had loved him in a way that I'd never loved before.  For so long
now he had been the first thing I thought of when I awoke in the
morning and it was his face that I'd see when I drifted off to sleep
at the end of the day.

I'd spent the past week basking in the warmth of his company,
soaking in the pleasure of being the center of his attention as we
whiled away the hours in his basement office.  I spent five days
enjoying the happy smile that was plastered to his face whenever he
turned to look at me while we worked.  I had foolishly mistaken the
joyful gleam in his eyes to be a reciprocation of my feelings.

It had taken Lillian's soft, sweet voice to shake my fantasy loose
and to bring the truth to life.  I fought down a bitter swell of
jealousy as I pictured her lying in Mulder's bed, wrapped in his
arms.  When she answered the phone, her voice had been sleepy. 
Sated?  The pounding behind my eyes seemed to increase.

Now, he was on his way over to my apartment and the thought of
facing him was... mortifying.  I felt raw, exposed - the pain and the
nausea leaving me ill equipped to hide my feelings from him.  I
stumbled into the bathroom as another wave of sickness swept over me
and when it passed I leaned shakily against the porcelain sink and
studied my face in the mirror above it.  I was a mess.  I soaked a
washcloth under the cold-water tap and held it to my face for a long
moment then I used my toothbrush to scrub the bitter taste from my
mouth.  Snapping off the bathroom light, I stepped out into the
hallway and slumped wearily against the wall.  The simple act of
washing my face and brushing my teeth had wiped me out and I crawled
back to the living room on my hands and knees.

I climbed onto the sofa and gratefully stretched out on the
overstuffed cushions.  I eyed the prescription bottle of pain
medication that was lying open on the coffee table and then I
squinted at the watch on my wrist.  I had already exceeded the dosage
amount, but I might as well have been swallowing baby aspirin for all
the good the pills were doing.  My eyes were burning with the strain
of trying to hold them open. I closed them with a sigh of relief
and fretfully rubbed my fingertips against the bridge of my nose.  

I never heard my door open and I was unaware of Mulder entering my
home until he touched me with gentle hands.

"Scully?"  His fingers stroked down my arm and he lightly squeezed
me above the elbow.  His voice took on a panicked edge as he called
my name again.

"Scully?  Can you hear me?"  He groaned softly and his hands clamped
onto my arms as he gently shook me.  "God!  Scully, please - wake
up!" His voice was pleading and I struggled to lift heavy lashes to
see him.  His face was frantic and a smile wobbled on his lips when
his eyes made contact with mine.

"Oh thank God!" he exclaimed.  My eyes slid closed again for a
moment and I drew in a fortifying breath as I gathered my strength in
order to open them again.  All of the joy that I had associated with
him this week had been drained from his face as I watched his gaze
sweep over me.  I saw the shimmer of tears in his eyes when he
noticed the towel that I had spread over the cushions of my sofa in
an attempt to protect them from the nosebleeds.

"Oh, Scully," he moaned sadly as he rose from where he had been
crouching.  Bending over, he scooped me into his arms and sank down
onto the sofa, settling me into his lap.  "Should I take you to the
hospital?" he asked quietly. I shook my head and burrowed my face
into his neck and inhaled deeply to fill my lungs with his scent. 
The pain that lanced through my heart rivaled the relentless
throbbing behind my eyes as the musky aroma that clung to his skin
assailed me and once again I was left to wonder what I had
interrupted when I had called him. Weakly, I pushed against his
shoulders, trying to force him to let go of me, but he simply curled
his hand around the back of my head and tightened the arm that was
wrapped around my waist.  His grip was gentle, yet purposeful and
within seconds, I was once again slumped against him.  His body
shifted almost imperceptibly as he rocked me in his arms and I let
his wordless, crooning murmurs wash over me.  I lifted one arm and
wrapped it around his shoulder.  I settled my cheek more comfortably
against his chest and my breathing fell into concert with his as I
was soothed by the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath me.

I was drifting, caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness,
between pain and peace when the nausea struck again.  I clapped a
hand over my mouth and pushed ineffectually against him.

"Scully, where are you going?" he asked as he tried to pull me back
into his arms.  I shook my head violently and cried out as a fresh
wave of pain burst behind my eyes at my sudden movement.

"Sick!" I gasped, stumbling to my feet as he finally loosened his
grip on me.  I staggered dizzily for a second and Mulder wrapped his
arms around me and carried me into the bathroom.  I fell to my knees
next to the toilet and shuddered as I hung my head over the bowl. 
The bitter taste of bile rose in my throat, but my stomach had long
ago been emptied and I hung my head as I was wracked by the dry
heaves.  Mulder crouched beside me and rubbed a soothing hand over my
back and his voice was a low murmur of gentle compassion and support.

"It's okay," he whispered continually.  "You're going to be
all right."  I concentrated on the sound of his voice until the
violent shudders faded.  Exhausted, I fell back on my heels and 
kept my chin pressed into my chest.  Although I was grateful 
for his presence, I couldn't bear to look at him - to see 
the sadness and fear on his face.  I shouldn't have called 
him, I thought miserably.  Less than an hour ago he had been 
sleeping soundly in his bed, in his girlfriend's arms no doubt, 
and now he was kneeling on the cold tile of my bathroom floor 
in the middle of the night.  I reached out and tore a wad of 
toilet paper from the roll and gingerly blew my nose,
surreptitiously checking for blood; grateful when there was none.  I
reached up and grabbed the edge of the sink for support as Mulder
helped me to my feet.  He filled a cup with water and I took it from
him, rinsing my mouth out.

"Tired?" he asked softly.  When I nodded, he lifted me into his arms
again and carried me into the bedroom, setting me down in the middle
of the bed.  He sank down on the edge of the bed and smoothed the
hair back from my forehead.

"I wish you would let me take you to the hospital," he said
imploringly.  I sighed and shook my head, nestling my hot cheek into
the cool cotton of the pillow beneath it.  

"Won't help," I whispered.  "Please, don't make me go."  The
headache raged unabated and I kept my eyes closed, feeling, rather
than seeing him inch closer.

"When are you due to take your next pain-killer?" he asked and I
felt him shift as if he was preparing to go into the other room for
the small plastic bottle lying on my coffee table.

"I can't take another one until morning," I rasped as I grabbed his
hand and pulled him back onto the mattress.  He moved closer to me and
gathered my hands in his.  

"I know the side effects of the treatments are horrible," he
murmured as he stroked his thumbs over the backs of my hands.  "But
the treatments are necessary if you're going to beat this thing."  I
fought off the urge to tell him the truth - that the treatments
weren't working - but I held back.  The doctors hadn't admitted it
yet, but I knew - somehow I knew - that I was fighting a losing
battle.  My body was weakening and I realized that
I needed to begin to prepare Mulder for the inevitable.  But not
tonight, I told myself.  I don't have the strength to tell him
tonight...  

His fingers had begun to trace tiny patterns over my forehead and I
felt his weight press lightly into me as he leaned over me.  His
breath stirred the hair near my temple and then he brushed his lips
over my brow, just as he had in the corridor of a hospital in
Allentown, Pennsylvania and just as he had done countless times since
that night.  He pressed his mouth warm and tender on the skin between
my eyebrows, just above the place where the tumor was growing fast
and strong.  Miraculously I felt the pain ebb and with each whispered
kiss, my limbs relaxed into the sheets beneath my body as sleep
finally crept forward to claim me.

Long moments passed and I was nearly asleep when I felt Mulder begin
to ease away from me.  "Good night," he whispered softly as he sat
up.  I reached out quickly and clutched his wrist tightly.

"Don't leave," I begged sleepily.  I pried open drowsy eyes at the
soft sound of his sneakers thudding onto the floor and then he was
sliding into the bed beside me.

"Go to sleep," he ordered softly as he curled his body toward mine. 
"I'll stay right here," he promised.  I turned onto my side and
snuggled my cheek into the pillow as I caught his fingers with my own.

"Thank you for coming over," I murmured around a yawn.  My eyes
blinked open again to study his face.  I was reluctant to fall asleep
because I knew that when morning came, I would once again wake up
alone.  But Mulder was determined that I should rest and he stroked
his knuckles over my cheek.

"Sleep," he demanded again in a soft but firm voice.  I was losing
my struggle to stay awake.  My eyes met his and I forced a tired
smile onto my lips and he matched it with one of his own.  I nodded
and curled my body around our joined hands.

"Good night, Mulder," I whispered.  I was asleep before I ever heard
his reply.

*************************

When four o'clock came and went without a sign of Fox or a phone
call, I gave up pacing around the kitchen, and turned out the lights
as I made my way back to the bedroom.  I knew I would not be getting
any more sleep that night, so I picked up the remote and clicked on
the TV.  Never much of a tube watcher, I mostly wanted the
background noise.  And I wasn't in the mood for music.

I sat propped up against a mound of pillows that smelled of my
lover, and I watched an old black and white sci-fi film without even
seeing it, reminding myself several times in an hour or so that Fox
WAS my lover.  Mine, not Dana's.  He had been mine for so long now,
mine in a way that his partner could never compete with - interfere
with.  Yes, it was true that he belonged to Dana in very complicated
patterns, in some place