By Ania J. Ann
xf_ania@yahoo.com.br
 

Disclaimer: Not mine.

FeedBack: Yes, please. (xf_ania@yahoo.com.br)

Summary: Who the hell is Jack? Is Mulder really delusional? A late
night talk answers that... and much more.

Spoilers: Up to Chinga.

Rating: PG13. Nothing too
graphic, sorry. Well, nothing graphic at all. Wait, come back
here... :)

Classification: Post Ep. MSR

Author's Notes: Tried to make it serious. Tried to add angst.
Tried to make it my way...
But Mulder handcuffed me to my chair and that's what happened.
And for those who are still wondering, he is still here... :)

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TITLE
By Ania J. Ann
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"So... this Jack... he sounds like a... nice man..." Sigh.
"Scully, that Jack guy you mentioned? Was he a victim at that
case...?" Sigh.

I look at mirror in front of me, staring morosely at my pathetic
reflection. This is stupid. This is crazy! Scully is a big girl.
Well, not literally, even thought she has...

Focus, Mulder, focus!

My mirrored twin looks back at me, mocking my inner turmoil.
Mirror mirror on the wall, who's this Jack from New England town?
Mirror mirror...

My eyes leave the rear-view mirror to dart towards Scully's living
room window. The light is on, but it's too late.

Well, that's the understatement of the year.

'You're too late, Fox Mulder,' I can almost hear my doppelganger
deadpanning at me with his - mine - dull monotone. I glance at my
image again, eyes against eyes.

I dare you.

Don't.

You don't have the guts.

Stop.

You're jealous.

I'm not.

You want to know.

No.

I dare you.

No.

I double dog dare you.

"Double dog dare you?" I say out loud, surprising even myself.
"What am I, five?"

This is absurd. Scully says that I don't listen to other people.
Well, my own reflection just won an argument over myself. Does
that proves or disproves her theory?

Well, I'm sure it proves that I'm just plain crazy.

Damn. I know she wanted to get away for a while. Freshen up. She
deserves it. After the cancer, finding about her ova, losing
Emily... well, lets just say that if I were her, I'd be freaking
out by now.

Well, I'm already freaking out just by being beside her and not
being able to help.

There's a catch about being Scully's partner. She's strong and
focused and... Well, really cute when she's angry, but let's not
get into that. I know that if I break down, Scully will always be
there to support me because she's so much braver than I am. She's
my anchor. My sanity. I'll never trust anyone else like I trust
her to watch my back. I'll never trust anyone for anything the way
I trust her.

But to be this perfect little soldier, the picture of calm,
professionalism and balance, she also tends to internalize
whatever she is feeling. She does not allow me to see her
vulnerability. She thinks I'll perceive her as... I don't know...
weak, I guess. She deems that the world will label her that way
and I think
I can understand her sometimes. I accept her withdrawal from me.

That doesn't mean I like it.

I'm her friend, for God's sake. I care about her. More than
anything else.

I force myself to stop fidgeting on my seat and cast another
glance at her window.

Light's still on.

I really thought things were changing between us. I mean, I surely
changed, but I was hoping she would change along with me. We're
nothing if not in equilibrium.

But that really fits. I finally take my head out of the stars -
and my ass - and actually care about another person more than...

My god, Sam, I really hope you'll not hate me for that. For
letting you go. For believing the tales of a cursed man and
letting you pass by as a normal woman. With a normal life.

But I won't dwell on that. Not anymore. I've made my choices and
don't regret them. Not when Scully is up there, breathing and
doing all her Scully-things. Not when I got to be with her every
day, so close to touch and smell and hear and see and...

Even when she decides to get the hell away from me.

WORK. From Work, Mulder. Work. She didn't say she wanted to get
away from you. Just from the work.

Which brings me back to my newest personal pandemonium.

Who the hell is Jack?

Why on Reticula would she give HIM a poster like mine?

Since the beginning I've been trying to... well, make her believe,
I guess. But I never, ever, heard a single theory coming from her
that could have at least a minimum of paranormal phenomena
appearance. When she can't find a reasonable hypothesis, she
doesn't say a thing.

But not now.

Black art? Charms? Bloodstones? Wicca? Santeria?

The words just poured from Scully's lips - which, by the way, are
so...

So I was turned on. Scully's voice is very sexy and hearing her
theorizing about paranormal things...

Yeah, so I'm a weirdo. Tell me something I don't know.

That was... God, that was a hell of a transition for Scully to
make.

Scully's Transition. That in itself should be considered an
oxymoron.

And, to top it all, that transition happened when I wasn't around.
When I wasn't looking. I didn't get to see her reaction when the
thoughts were first materializing in her brain. I never got the
chance to look at her with eyes open wide and grin proudly at her.

I didn't get the chance to be a part of it.

She ditched me.

And as Scully moves to this new phase, accepting extreme
possibilities and making wild transitions about... whatever that
stupid case was about, I made my own transition.

And if we were synchronized professionally and just in different
pages personally, now we're in whole different books.

And I want to know who the hell is this Jack guy.

"God!" I jump as the shrieking of the cell phone disturbs the
almost surreal silence of the darkened street.

"Yeah." I sigh, definitely not wanting to go out for cheese
steaks with the Gunmen tonight.

But instead of Langly's paranoid invitation, the lady of my
contemplation greets me.

"Why don't you come up? You'll freeze to death otherwise."

I look up to her window and there she is. My red angel.

Red angel? Where am I getting these words from? This particular
angel would surely kick my ass if she were to discover I'm
harboring those kinds of thoughts.

She waves cutely at me, phone cradled between her head
and her left shoulder. Her wet hair is neatly combed and she
absently plays with an errand strand with her other hand.

A sight to behold.

"It's not cold." I end up sounding like a 12-year-old pouting at
his parents wanting to stay awake, even though his eyes are slowly
closing with sleep.

"It will be. And it's gonna start to rain any minute now."

"It is?" I say, sticking my head out of the car and looking to the
dark sky. "Yep, looks like it is."

"Mulder." She sighs, "This is ridiculous. Come on up. I'll make
some hot chocolate for you."

Can't say why, but whenever Scully offers to make chocolate for
me, I get all tingled inside. It's such a sweet thing to do.

I happen to like knowing she cares about me enough to make me hot
cocoa. But I'll die first rather than admit it.

"Mulder?" she asks again, and now I can definitely detect a hint
of concern in her voice.

What the hell am I doing, sitting here alone while I could've been
upstairs with my Red Angel?

Coward.

I cast my reflection another glance and, without another thought,
I say "Be there in a sec," and hang up the phone.

XXXXXXX
 

"Hi." She smiles, leaning on the door, making room for me to enter
the sanctuary that is her apartment. Everything is in order, but
nothing too compulsive. Scully likes to keep tabs on what she
does. She likes that control.

In a world where we have so little control, this small thing can
be a balm to the soul.

"Hey yourself." I shrug off my bomber jacket, suddenly very
uncomfortable. What am I doing here?

What indeed?

My hands fly to my pockets and I can't help shuffling my feet like
a kid in trouble.

God... I'm an adult. I'm a psychologist, for god's sake! I
shouldn't be feeling that way. I'm a cool detached FBI special
agent. I'm...

"Why don't you sit?"

Hopelessly in love.

I nod, like the obedient puppy I am, and get to the couch in three
large steps, welcoming the familiar comfort of being surrounded by
her things. Her home smells like peace and happiness and, even
though horrible events unfolded here, no other place makes me feel
this way. So warm and fuzzy inside.

I hear Scully walking in the kitchen and soon the sweet smell of
cocoa fills my nostrils, bringing a smile to my tired face.

"Warm enough?" she says as she comes back to the living room, with
one black mug on each hand, handing me one.

I smile my gratitude and take a sip of the drink.

Best I ever had.

She sits beside me on the couch, Indian style, looking at me,
front to side, with solemn baby blue eyes. Her thigh-length blouse
hikes up a notch to reveal plain black boxers.

My boxers, I observe. How did she...?

Or am I just delusional?

"So..." she drawls, her mug forgotten on the coffee table in front
of us, untouched.

"So." I parrot, settling my mug beside hers.

"So." She tries again after a sigh. She answers my grin with a
tight lip smile of her own. "Wanna tell me why you're sitting
outside my building for the last twenty minutes or am I to think
you car just... ran out of gas?"

"Do you believe in coincidence, Scully?" I offer, but I know she
won't take my bullshit tonight.

But, hey, if Scully believes in Santeria, why can't I try a little
extreme possibility of my own?

She says nothing, instead reaching a hand to touch my thigh. Like
I can be more aware of her than I already am.

"I... wanted to see you." There. I said it. Well, I didn't say
everything I wanted to say but it's a good start.

Her head falls to one side and she smiles, her blush partially
hidden by red curls falling softly on her face. "You did?"

"Yeah. I..."

"You got a new case?" she asks as a perfect eyebrow shots upward.

"Nope."

"Something bad happened?"

"No."

"You okay?"

"Yes. No."

At that she does come closer to me, if that's possible, and her
other hand rushes to my head, looking for concussions or fever
whatever the hell she seems to be looking for.

I know it's an excuse to touch me, but who am I to back away from
this sweet medical exam?

"Mulder." It weights so much. My name. She only said my name, but
the meanings behind it threaten to break my heart.

A question. A warning. A plea.

"Uh... I was outside because I wasn't sure you'd want me up here
with you." I say, tipping my head back and closing my eyes. I
can't do this looking at her.

"Why didn't you just called?"

"Well, based on past events, I didn't think you'd want to answer
my calls."

"God." I feel her shifting beside me and my eyes cracks open to
see her supporting her head on her hands, elbows on her knees, her
flame hair slightly mussed and bobbing in synch with her shaking
head.

"What, Scully? You gonna tell me that I'm being unfair?" I ask
silently, going back to my previous position, with my eyes closed.

"No. You're not. You have the right to be angry at me." she says
quietly, "But if we're looking at it that way, I wasn't being
unfair to you either. I have the right to want to get away a
little."

So logical, my Scully.

"Got what you wanted? Did you feel good, being finally away from
me?" My voice cracks, like my heart.

Are we back to this, Mulder? She said she wanted to get away from
work.

"I wanted a few days to myself. Try new things. Stop caring for a
while. And in that matter, I got what I wanted." I cringe, but she
carries on, unnoticing. "Except for the fact that the bizarre
keeps following me around, it was a pretty good weekend."

"Oh, I'm sure it was. You got to play with new people and even got
new beliefs as a side bonus."

"New beliefs?" she looks up at me, clearly confused. "What... what
are you talking about?"

"Come on, Scully... 'High or low magic'?" I say, making my fingers
go into quotation marks, "I can quote our whole conversation if
you like."

"No thank you," She frowns, shaking her head slowly. "I know what
I said. Wouldn't you act the same?"

"That's exactly my point!" I say, hitting my leg for emphasis. The
sting is good. It keeps me from over react even more. "If I were
there with you, that's exactly what I would do!"

"So what's the big deal?" her frown deepens. "I was simply..."

"Taking a leap of faith. Making a damned transition. Playing a
hunch." I realize my voice is actually getting louder and I force
myself to calm down. My next words are barely a whisper.
"Believing."

And her eyes widen. I know she got my point. Well... miserable the
way I am, I'm surprised she didn't see it in my eyes when she
opened the door.

"Mulder," her tone is quiet, controlled. "People were dying. My
help was needed. I did whatever it took to get the case solved, as
I always do, and you know it. You do it too."

"I can't recall you ever accepting a paranormal phenomenon with
such eagerness." Her mouth opens and closes a few times, but
nothing comes out of it. So I take my chances and plunge it
forward.

I'll be damned if I get out of this house without an answer.

"Unless you just hadn't found the right partner yet."

"What?" she gets up and places herself in front of me, visibly
angry.

I guess I unleashed the beast.

Yoo-hoo.

"What the hell are you talking about, Fox Mulder?"

"Just that maybe all you needed was a screw-able partner to get
your goddamned mind open. And maybe something else." The last
words just fell from my mouth without me thinking. Or believing
it.

And I never saw it coming. Or maybe I did, because the minute
those words poured from my mouth I closed my eyes, prepared for
blow.

Ow.

And on a second note, Ow.

Shit, the girl has an arm.

Did I mention Ow? I did? Oh.

I instantly feel my chin getting swollen, or at least that's what
it seems. But my throbbing ache is soon forgotten when I get the
sight of Scully jumping cradling her arm close to her body. What
to say? When it comes to basic instincts mine is to protect Scully
first, think about me latter.

"Shit." She whines and I'm instantly up, next to her.

Yeah. Try doing this when your head is still spinning.

I fall backwards, desperately trying to grab something, but
finding only thin air. And Scully.

"Mulder!" She gasps, as I pull her down with me.

Not a pretty sight.

I try to smooth her fall, staying under her and I can perfectly
see her eyes closing in slow motion, preparing for the inevitable.

Bang.

We end up in the floor, Scully's little body perfectly fit above
mine, nose to nose.

Now, THAT'S a pretty sight.

Call me a jerk. I probably should have asked if she was okay,
helped her getting up and falling to my knees begging for
forgiveness.

I end up kissing her instead.

And a very good kiss, if you ask me.

And she's kissing me right back, if that restless tongue of hers
is any indicant.

One hand moves to her head, tugging her closer and the other wraps
around her waist.

Well, you see, that was a mistake.

How do I say this without betraying my cool exterior?

I live in this semi-aroused state whenever I'm around Scully. But
I'm a guy, I learn to live with that.

But tonight, she answered the door wearing nothing but a T and my
boxers and her hair is wet so I am sure she just had got out of
the bathroom and...

Okay, Breathe.

Long story short. I'm sporting a hell of a hard on right now.

She tenses in my arms and her hands, which were comfortably
tangled in my hair just a second ago, move to my chest, pulling
away. "Oh god." She says, getting up and moving away.

Well, it has been good. Now she'll probably ask for a transference
and get the hell away from my life.

It has been what? 5 years together?

A record. I've managed to last five years without screwing my
relationship with Scully.

Yee-fucking-haw.

"Scully..." I sigh, closing my eyes. "I'm..."

"Oh my god." She says again and I open my eyes to see her kneeling
beside me. "God... I'm..." she gets up and rushes to the kitchen.
I hear some noises and if she comes out from there with a knife on
her hands, that's it. I'm outta here.

But not my Scully.

She appears with a zip-lock bag filled with ice, handing it to me.

I sit, placing the ice to my face, wincing at the cold but
thanking the almost immediate numbness that it brings.

"I'm sorry." She says so low that I have to make a strain to hear
her.

"No, Scully, I was..."

"Yes, you were a total jerk, but my behavior was inexcusable.
Physical violence is not what I normally entertain."

Oh.

She is talking about the blow.

Why, Miss Scully, you gonna ignore that kiss?

"But it doesn't mean I don't deserve to get punched sometimes."

"Good, because you do." She says and I attempt a smile.

Ow.

She winces, probably kicking herself for losing control.

"Hey, it was my fault." I say, using my free hand to lift her chin
until our gazes lock. "I was waaaaaaaay out of line. I'm sorry."

She frees herself from my touch, going back to the couch. Silence
falls upon us, not our usual silence, but a heavier one.

Then Scully's voice drifts towards me, so small that at first I
think I imagined it. "You really believe that?"

And my heart just stops beating and cracks in tiny little shreds
on her fluffy carpet. It's terrible to know that I was
the one who caused that little voice on her. I'm the one who hurt
her like that.

"No. God, Scully, no." I say, kneeling on the floor beside her.
There is no doubt she's talking about my earlier comment. The one
about getting things open.

"Mulder..." she pries, baby blues staring right at me.

It seems like the whole air on my lungs is expelled with my next
sigh. "No. But it got stuck in my mind all day anyway." I say,
sitting back on the floor, my back to her. "Wondered who was this
Jack you talked about. Why you were so eager to believe. I felt
betrayed. You unrestricted your theories without me around. You
left me behind." You might as tell the whole fucking story,
Mulder. "You met a guy."

"I didn't know you bothered whether I met a guy or not." She says,
voice still low.

"Of course I do. How can I not?"

"Mulder, I already told you, I did what I had to do. I didn't know
you'd resent my behavior, but still, my conduct helped saving
lives."

"You solved an X File on your own, Scully. You must be proud of
yourself."

"I thought you'd be proud of me." she sighs. "Although I wasn't
seeking your approval."

You never are, are you Scully?

"But I am." I say turning my head towards her. "Of course I am
proud of you. Since day one. I'm so very proud of you, Scully.
Proud of being your partner. Your friend." I look outside. The
rain finally started to fall. "I just wanted to be there with
you." I add silently.

I get up and take the zip-lock to the kitchen, fixing myself a
glass of water.

Pouring my soul into Scully's hands has left my throat dry all of
a sudden.

"Jack Bonsaint." I jump at her voice, so close to my ear, almost
dropping the glass to the floor.

"Bonsaint." I repeat, just for the sake of torture. Do I really
wanna know?

Hell yeah.

"He is the Local PD Captain." She says, sitting on the counter. I
finish my water in one gulp, moving to put the glass on the sink
and placing myself between her legs, my arms on each side of her
hips. "He was the one that convinced me into staying and helping.
He's a very nice guy." She says, tensing a little at my closeness,
but relaxing little by little.

It's hard to intimidate Scully.

"A very nice guy?" I smile, getting even closer to her body than I
already was. Maybe her willingness to tell me who he was made me
bold.

Maybe my earlier confession did.

Hell, I practically screamed my jealousy.

"Yes." She smiles back, a single finger caressing the bruise on my
face. I haven't seen it yet, but I'm sure it's a deep
purple by now. "We... had lunch together."

Okay. I wasn't expecting that.

I try very hard not to show my disappointment, but Scully senses
it nonetheless. "Just lunch."

"He had the nerve to ask you out?"

She says nothing, instead choosing to nibble on her bottom lip.

Oh no, Scully... Don't say it...

"I invited him." She says looking at me straight in the eye.

I sigh, stepping away, ready to admit to myself that there is no
way Scully has romantic intentions towards me. She just wants us
to stay friends. She... is wrapping her legs around my back,
tugging me close to her.

"To talk about the case." She says, our foreheads touching. Her
breathing is a little jagged now, as I'm sure mine is.

She smells like soap and bed. And of course there's the always
present Scullysmell, sweet and rich.

"Just about the case?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"Just about the case." she repeats and I feel my heart flutter
with relief. And maybe hope.

"He didn't try anything?" I tease, knowing full well that if he
did, she'd kicked his ass but good.

"Nope." She smiles, relaxing too.

"Good." I say and kiss her forehead, "Nobody messes with my
Scully."

She laughs and pushes back enough to look at my face. "Yours?" she
says amused, "That right, Agent Mulder?"

"Yes." I say simply, stepping away from her warm embrace.

Don't wanna take unnecessary risks here.

"Well..." she says, legs dangling in the air like a child's on a
swinger, "Any other worries?"

"Worries?" I say, leaning against the kitchen wall next to her, "I'm
not worried."

"No you're not. Maybe jealous, but not worried." She smiles, and I
can't hold back my own guilty grin.

Got me good, G-woman.

XXXXXXX

"So... not that I'm doing this to know more about this Jack or
anything, but... uh... you gonna tell me how was your weekend?"

She takes her eyes from the black & white movie on the TV screen
to regard me. "Not about Jack, hun?" she says amused, lifting her
head from that warm place on my shoulder.

"Just wanna know what the case was about."

"I see." She smiles, stretching like a lazy cat after a great
meal. "Mulder, forget about it."

"No no no..." I shake my head, "you didn't find a witch, did you?"

She smiles that little enigmatic smile of hers and I just know
this will be good.

"Ooo Agent Scully, don't tell me it was a real witch?"

"Mmm, not exactly," she says, turning on the sofa to look at me.

We're back at our previous position, back when this night started.

Mmmm.... good sign, bad sign.

Shall I kiss her again?

Wait a sec... Did I ever kiss her at all?

Scully is the most truthful person I know. Except when she denies
something to herself. God, when she says that something wasn't
real, sometimes I catch myself thinking if that thing really
happened in the first place.

Like the mothmen case. Scully swears she didn't see anything
paranormal in that forest. That it was probably a wild animal or
something.

A few days ago, I wondered if I wasn't delusional myself and that
whole case was just a figment of my imagination... Even though
I'll never forget that she indeed sang "Jeremiah was a bull frog"
to me (And yes, she denies that too).

That's the pisser when you trust someone even more than you trust
yourself.

"Mulder?" her voice cuts through my reverie, half worried, half
amused.

And that smile... that mouth...

Yep. I kissed her alright.

"What?" I ask, barely concealing a goofy grin of my own.

"Heard me?"

"No." I say and she laughs.

"Typical. Here I am saying that I found a doll that might have
been dictating a little girl's behavior and you're not listening
to me."

"Chuckie? You mean, that was for real?" I ask, a little surprised.
Damn, I missed it.

"Kinda. I don't know. Something weird was going on there. And that
doll was just... spooky."

"You wrestled with a doll, Scully?"

"I had to take it from a little girl. Polly."

I try to find sadness on her voice, but find none. There hasn't
been much time since Emily after all.

"Were you okay?" I ask, my voice low, pulling her in an awkward
embrace.

"Yes. Don't worry. I know what you're thinking... but I'm okay."
She smiles, resting her forehead on my temple. "We have to move
on, you know."

"Scully..."

"No, Mulder. I know you. I know how you beat yourself up because
of it. Because of her. But you have to stop doing that. I'm not
going to start running away from children."

"I know." I sigh, tightening the embrace.

"I miss her, of course. But I can't quit living my life. I'll
never forget her..."

"Neither will I."

"...but I can't live on memories of her either. We can't."

I nod, feeling her whole body molded to mine. Her breath tickles
my cheek and if I just turn slightly, my lips will find hers so I
can try to kiss the pain away.

But I wait.

The first step was mine, Scully. Now, it's your move.

The long forgotten movie on the TV ends, the loud sound of the
commercial disturbing our peaceful cocoon.

"Well..." I clear my throat, "It's late."

"Yes." She says, moving back and leaving my arms.

"I guess I'll..." I trail away, suddenly finding Scully's carpet
very interesting and warranted of a thorough inspection.

Tell me to stay.

Tell me to leave.

Don't put this in my hands.

"I didn't forget it, you know." She says, moving to cradle my face
in her hands.

Holyshit, She gonna kiss me.

With a finger, she lifts my head up.

What the hell?

"It's not swollen." She says after examining my bruise. "You
should be fine."

Oh.

"I know." I sigh. "I heal quickly."

Maybe that kiss didn't happen after all.

Maybe it was a delusion from the blow.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. Wasn't my intention. I never..."

"I know. It happens sometimes, Scully."

"No..." now, she's the one that sighs, her hands dropping to her
sides helplessly. "That's not what I wanted to say."

"Tell me."

Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tellmetellmetellmetellme...

"I..."

Tell me Scully. I need to hear it.

"Stay."

I don't hear her words. All I hear is my heart thumping madly in
my ears. But I feel her words. I feel them inside my body,
crawling into my skin, past my defenses, past my fears, finding a
nice, warm spot in my soul.

"Stay, Mulder." She whispers and I now I can hear her and she's
getting closer and closer and closer and...

Oh yes.

Her lips are on mine and it's so very sweet that I know I can cry
from the rightness of this.

"Yes." Kiss. "Yes." Kiss. "Yes." Kiss.

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

"Yes, Scully..." I breathe into her mouth.

Hear me, Scully. Believe me.

"Don't go..." she whispers, her arms holding me tight, our kiss
getting more sensual by the seconds.

I sweep her off her feet - very smoothly, I might add - and carry
her to the bedroom.

She smiles her approval and I can't help but chuckle.

"You were wondering if it was real, weren't you?" she says as I
lay her on the bed.

See, she knows me.

"The kiss, I mean."

I smile my acquiescence and she pulls me on top of her.

"You're not crazy, you know." She laughs throatily and if I
weren't aroused before, I'm certainly drop-dead-hard now.

"You mean they were really mothmen?" I smile, kissing her again.

"Perhaps." She concedes, squeezing my butt.

"I knew it." I say matter of factly, lifting her shirt slowly.

"The boxers are yours too."

I smile, kissing her exposed breasts.

"But I never sang to you."

Oh really? We'll see about that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX