By:  Susanne Barringer
sbarringer@usa.net

Feedback welcomed.
DATE: Tue, 24 Feb 1998
ARCHIVE:  Anywhere okay, with my name and address attached.
SPOILER WARNINGS:  Up to "Detour" (5th season)
RATING:  PG for language.
CONTENT WARNING:  MSR
CLASSIFICATION:  S, R
SUMMARY:  An immediate sequel to "End Detour," an alternative
"Detour" episode.
DISCLAIMER:  These characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox.
No infringement is intended.

NOTE:
Due to popular demand and various expressions of frustration about my
unintentional loose ends, here is a direct follow-up to "End Detour"
(which was posted almost two weeks ago).  This won't make any sense
without reading that first; email me if you want it.  Thanks to all
those who provided feedback on "End Detour," my first fanfic(!), and
asked about a sequel.

**********

End Detour: Revisited (1/2)
by Susanne Barringer
 

The ride back to the seminar was in silence.  Mulder was glad.  His
head was spinning from the events of the day.  It wasn't like
anything earth-shattering had happened exactly, but he felt like his
whole life had changed with just a few words from Scully.  At least
he had a clue what was going on with her now, and it was far better
than he ever expected, or than he had hoped for that matter.

He had been really freaked out since she returned to work.  He wasn't
sure what was going on.  Their time together when she was in the
hospital, and then after, had been so perfect.  He had loved every
minute of being with her, of holding her, of touching her.  Although
there were moments when he realized he wanted even more, those simple
pleasures had been enough.  His dreams of someday becoming Scully's
lover were separate from what they lived out--a sort of unrealistic
fantasy, like winning the lottery, that hovers at the back of the
mind but only rarely comes under scrutiny as an actual possibility.

The two weeks he spent living with Scully under the guise of wanting
to be there in case she had a relapse was, to put it simply, the
happiest time of his life.  He watched the clock tick toward 5:00
everyday and then rushed "home," his anxiousness to see her
surprising him.  Every evening, she looked as though she was waiting
for him, like some kind of ideal wife.  Boy, she'd shoot him if she
knew he even momentarily thought about her like she was June Cleaver,
but he could definitely get used to the idea of coming home to Scully
every night.

He left Scully's on the night before she was to go back to work.  He
had done it for her sake.  He figured she didn't want him hovering
around constantly now that she was recovered.  He had been a wimp and
left while she was taking a bath because he was afraid of what would
happen if he had to say goodbye to her face; he wasn't sure he would
be able to hold it together.  Later, he regretted that cowardice
because then he had no idea how she had handled it.  He suspected she
was glad to be rid of him, but he wasn't sure.  That Monday at work
she seemed fine, back to being his no-nonsense, business-as-usual
Scully.  He knew then that they had to return to the way they were
before she had gotten sick.  That was the way she would want it,
professional and distanced.  He had convinced himself it was the only
way that their partnership could survive.

Still, it had been so incredibly difficult for him.  There were a
surprising number of moments during their average working day when he
wanted to hold her hand, put his arms around her, just be with her.
He struggled to stifle those urges and cursed himself for being so
self-centered, for not being able to respect their professional
relationship.  He had promised himself, and God, and whatever other
forces were out there that if Scully survived, he would do whatever
it took to make her happy, even if that meant distancing himself from
her again.  She had survived.  She was alive.  She was in remission.
He could have absolutely no complaints.

And now, well, now she had opened the door.  He had been wrong.  She
was not happy with their current distance.  She, like him, missed all
those hours they had spent together, absorbed in the feelings they
had for each other.  He loved her.  He knew that without a doubt, and
had for a long time.  He knew Scully loved him too, but he never
dreamed that she could love him any more than as a friend, as a best
friend.  Now there seemed to be that possibility, and just the
thought of it made him feel so incredibly, indescribably lucky.  Just
the thought of it made tears spring to his eyes.  God, could she
really love him?  It seemed so impossible.

Mulder glanced over at Scully staring out the passenger window.  She
had trusted him today, told him her feelings, and he still couldn't
believe it.  He had just needed to know that she felt the same way he
did about the closeness they had established during her illness.  He
had been sure that she would never tell him, but there was no way he
would ever ask.  Then, this conference came up.  As soon as he read
the questions in the partner exercise, the words had spilled out of
his heart and onto the paper before he could second-guess them.  He
had filled the page with all the feelings, desires, and frustrations
that had built up over the four years of their partnership.  Sure, in
the end he hadn't read them all to her, but writing them down made
him intensely aware of the reality of what he felt.  He had never
faced it head-on before.  It should have scared him, but it didn't.

Afterwards, they spent that incredible afternoon together and he felt
like he would burst from sheer happiness.  Then, the unbelievable had
happened.  She told him she missed him, like *that*, like how they
had been together--close, affectionate, inseparable.  He loved her
for telling him.  He respected her for telling him.  He knew how hard
it was for her to admit it because to Scully it was a weakness.  It
was a weakness that only he could bolster, just the kind of thing she
would never, ever ask for help with.  Now that he knew, though, they
could work on it.  Now that she wasn't dying, they had time.  All he
had needed was to know.  That's what he told her, and it was true.
She had told him and now he had to live up to it, live up to what she
asked from him.  He had no intention of letting her down.

As they got closer to the retreat where the team-building conference
was being held, Scully finally shifted in her seat and turned toward
Mulder, pulling him out of his contemplation.  She had been so still
for so long that a part of him was beginning to worry that she was
over-analyzing what had happened, that she was letting her
rationality overcome her belief in them, in herself.  He was relieved
when she reached out her hand to cover his hand resting on the
armrest between them.  He turned to look at her and she smiled the
cute, shy smile she occasionally adopted.  He loved that look.  He
loved it even more at that moment because he knew it meant she was
okay.

"We're almost there," he said softly, his voice seeming loud after so
much silence.  "Should we go with the witnessing an accident or the
flat tire?" he asked with a smile.  It was a long-running joke
between them.  They had a series of stories they used whenever they
needed an excuse for being late to something or for disappearing
after running off to investigate an "unofficial" lead.  It was just
another reason they didn't need a seminar on team-building.
Everything they needed as partners was already worked out between
them.  It was the non-partner stuff that they needed to work on, and
there was no seminar for that, at least not one the FBI would pay
for!

Scully squeezed his hand and paused.  "We're screwed no matter what,
Mulder.  We've been gone for more than seven hours."  Then she
giggled, like a child who was in on a secret, he thought.

Mulder turned off the main highway onto the small rocky road that led
to the retreat.  He had been driving slower than usual, feeling like
they both needed the time to digest everything before they had to
face their professional obligations again.  Now it was almost
seven-thirty.  They were really going to be in hot water for having
disappeared for so long, and Scully was right--no story was going to
cover their butts.  When they pulled up to the parking area, Mulder
chose a space farthest away from the cabins.  His motives were
simple; it would give him an extra thirty seconds or so of walking
with Scully back to their cabins.  He wanted every second he could
get with her; the day had been so perfect it was hard to let it end.

He turned off the engine but Scully didn't move, so he waited.
Finally, she turned toward him with a questioning, concerned look on
her face.

"Mulder?"

It was a question laden with so many other questions.  What did this
mean?  Where was their relationship heading?  How were they going to
deal with it?  How would they balance it with their partnership?  How
would they be able to survive all the changes?  Mulder knew the
questions because he had them too.  He couldn't answer them for
himself yet, let alone for her.

"We'll find a way, Scully."  All he was sure about right then was
that.  "We will."

It must have been enough for her because Scully's questioning look
disappeared and she reached for the door handle.  Mulder got out and
joined her on the far side of the car.

"Ready?" he asked.  Ready for what?  Again, a long list of questions
implied in the one.  How *were* they going to deal with all the
layers and layers of their newly complicated relationship?

"Ready as ever," Scully shot back.  She grabbed his hand and they
walked that way until they were in easy sight of the cabins.  Then
she dropped his hand and they walked the rest of the way apart.  This
was how it was going to be now, always alternating between being
partners and being whatever else it was they were becoming.  It was
time to put on the professional face.

"May I walk you to your door, Dr. Scully?" Mulder joked with a
flourish of gallantry, but he wasn't totally kidding.

"I'd be honored," pronounced Scully and flashed the beautiful smile
he'd seen at least a dozen times that day.  That was maybe more than
in the whole last year.

As they approached the cabin Scully was sharing with Agent
Stonecypher, Mulder noticed lights blazing inside and a general
commotion outside.  Agents Kinsley and Stonecypher were talking to
Mel.  Yep, they were in deep, deep trouble.  Upon catching sight of
the two wayward agents, Stonecypher shrieked, "Oh my God, are you
guys okay?  We were worried sick!"  She ran up and hugged Scully,
much to Scully's surprise Mulder observed.

"We were just discussing calling the FBI."  Mel's sarcasm was mixed
with a seriously accusatory tone.  "Where were you?  Why did you
leave?"

Mulder took the initiative to answer.  He didn't like to lie, but
this time he'd do it to protect Scully.  He wove a story about
leaving for a quick break, a four-car pile up, serious injuries,
having to go to the highway patrol station to give a report, Scully
tending injuries and accompanying the injured to the hospital where
he and Scully stayed until they were sure all the involved parties
were out of the woods.  It was lame and he knew it.  Scully stayed
quiet but then finally added her part.

"We're sorry.  We should have called.  We didn't mean to worry you."
That part was true.  Besides, how could anyone not forgive Scully,
Mulder wondered.

"Hey, no problem, we were just worried ya'll had been hurt or
something."  Yep, Kinsley definitely fell for Scully's charming
apology.  Mel didn't seem so easy.  He was checking his watch and
Mulder could see him mentally calculating, comparing how long they
had been gone with how long it would take to give a police report,
save a few lives, etc.  It wasn't going to add up, and Mulder knew
Mel wouldn't buy the story.  It didn't really matter anyway because
Mel would tell Skinner and Skinner would check it out and quickly
discover there had been no accident.  They'd have to face the music
with Skinner no matter what; he just hoped Mel and Kinsley and
Stonecypher would buy the story enough to leave them alone.  He
didn't want anyone grilling Scully about where they'd been.  She'd
taken a leap of faith by leaving with him that afternoon.  He didn't
want anything to punish her for that trust.

Finally Mel spoke up.  "Well, I expect you to be at the
problem-solving exercise tomorrow morning right on time."  He
directed his comment to Mulder, and Mulder figured he was the one Mel
blamed for their disappearance.  "Eight a.m."

"It sounds like it's going to be so much fun," chimed in Stonecypher.
 Mulder saw Scully grimace.  He would put his best into it, for
Scully's sake, but nothing could beat what they'd been through today.

"Alright, well, I guess I'd better go rest up for tomorrow then,"
Mulder commented.  Mel shot him a glare, assuming he was being
sarcastic, which he  wasn't.  He just wanted to get out of all the
commotion.  Kinsley and Mel began to walk away, then stopped,
apparently waiting for Mulder to join them.  Mulder hesitated.  He
wanted a private moment with Scully to say goodnight and to check
that she was okay with everything, but it looked like he wasn't going
to get it without creating an awkward situation.

On an impulse, Mulder reached into his shirt pocket and removed a
piece of folded paper, then pressed it into Scully's hand.  There
really wasn't anything more to lose at this point, and he wanted
Scully to know how much her honesty had meant to him.  "Read it
later," he whispered close to her ear.  Then he stepped away.
"Goodnight, Scully.  See ya' in the morning.  Good night Agent
Stonecypher."  Scully just smiled and Stonecypher gave a little wave.
 Mulder turned and joined up with the two men for the walk back to
his cabin.
 

**********

End Detour: Revisited (2/2)

Scully went back inside the cabin, dreading having to face the third
degree she knew was coming from Stonecypher.  No way was an FBI agent
going to buy that lame story Mulder had dished out.

"So," Stonecypher snagged her immediately, "is something going on
between you and Agent Mulder?"  Stonecypher raised a blond eyebrow.
Leave it to her to get right to the dirt.

"There's nothing going on between me and Mulder.  We're just
partners, and friends."  It was a statement she had made at least a
hundred times--to her mother, her sister, her brothers, her friends,
other agents, even to herself.  This time, though, it was a lie.  She
was a lousy liar.  She hoped Stonecypher wouldn't notice.  "We just
needed to get away for a bit, so we did, but then the accident
happened, and . . ."

"Yeah, I know, you had all those lives to save."  Stonecypher looked
doubtful, but Scully didn't care enough to bother to try to fix it.
She figured she'd turn the tables.

"So what about you and Kinsley?  Anything going on there?"  Scully
knew it was an unfair question.  She hated when people assumed she
and Mulder were sleeping together just because they were of opposite
sexes.  She vowed she would never make those kinds of assumptions,
but she figured it was the only way to end the conversation.

"Of course not," protested Stonecypher.  "We're just partners."
Scully knew that story.  "I'm tired," Stonecypher announced suddenly,
a little too suddenly Scully thought.  She wondered if she had ever
reacted so obviously defensive when people asked her about Mulder.
"I think I'll hit the hay.  You know, you missed a really great
session this afternoon on non-verbal communication."

"That's unfortunate," said Scully, but she smiled thinking of the
private session she and Mulder had had.  Their non-verbal
communication was going quite well, thank you very much.

Scully turned to her luggage to dig out pajamas and suddenly
remembered the folded paper in her hand.  She placed it in the pocket
of her pajama top and quickly changed clothes.  She grabbed a
flashlight and a book from out of her suitcase and slid into bed.
"Go ahead and turn out the lights," she told her roommate, "I'm just
going to read for a while."

Scully opened the book and then pulled the paper Mulder had given her
out of her pocket and unfolded it in front of the book.  Propping the
flashlight against her side, she looked at the paper.  It was the
assignment from the exercise that morning--Mulder's answers to the
questions.  He had written so much, filled the entire page in fact.
She wondered what he wanted her to see.

She skimmed down Mulder's quirky handwriting.  It was difficult to
decipher, but she had seen it so much now that she had learned its
characteristics and could read it better than he could.  The answers
were about the same as what he'd told her.  All that stuff about her
not asking for help and not telling him how she was, and the answer
that had hurt her so much, that he felt she didn't trust him.  As
much as it hurt, though, she knew there was some truth to it.  Then
she got to the last question:  "I wish . .  ."

That was the question Mulder had fudged that morning, that he had
changed because he had seen her getting angry.  It must have been
important or else he wouldn't have given her the paper to read.  She
took a deep breath, adjusted the flashlight, and read.

"I wish you would tell me what you're feeling, what you feel about
me.  I wish I knew what you think about what happened between us when
you were sick.  I know it was probably nothing to you--just Mulder
being annoyingly overprotective again--but it meant everything to me
to be near you, to hold you, to touch you, to love you, to know at
those moments that you needed me.  I know you did need me then.  I
wish I knew if you need me now.  I would be there for you no matter
what, no matter when.  Do you need me, Dana?"

Scully was floored.  She felt a sob rise from her throat and hoped
Stonecypher was asleep.  This was Mulder?  This was Mulder who was
expressing his feelings for her so eloquently and so beautifully and
so freely?  And my God, what feelings they were!  All this time she'd
been thinking that he had pulled back from her because that's what he
wanted, when all along he had pulled back because he thought that's
what *she* wanted.  Now it hit her with sudden clarity what had
happened that morning.  Mulder had answered the questions and
addressed both sides of their partnership--the professional side and
the personal side.  Then he'd made her read her answers first and
every single one of them had been about their professional
partnership.  She'd talked about him challenging her and ditching her
and treating her like she was sick.  She hadn't said a single word
about what was really between them, what was more than just a
business relationship.  No wonder he hadn't said anything after she
finished.  No wonder he had been so silent.  Here he had laid his
heart wide open in writing, and she had played the FBI agent to the
hilt.  She had unintentionally hurt him, as she probably often did,
because she didn't trust him with her emotions and feelings.  She was
an idiot, plain and simple.

As the tears fell down her face she felt the realizations break over
her, one after the other, as if all the details of a complex picture
had been revealed to her.  She had been silent on the way back from
their adventure because she needed time to recover.  She felt like
she had taken a huge risk at the waterfall, that she had risked
everything by telling Mulder that she missed him.  But she was not
the one who had taken the risk; it was Mulder.  He was the one who
put it all on the line because even though she had treated him like a
partner and nothing more, he had still been honest with her.  He told
her during the exercise that he missed being close to her, and then
at the waterfall that he wanted to make her happy, even though he
probably suspected that she wanted nothing like that.  He had opened
up the discussion so that she could take her big, huge risk of
telling him she missed him.  Big fucking deal.  He had laid his heart
out there for her to stomp all over and she had nearly done it.  She
was such a coward.  She would have gone on as they had done for four
years just to avoid telling him how she felt, out of some sort of
misplaced fear that he wanted things the way they were.  And now, now
he had gone so far as to give her this paper with all his feelings
spelled out in black and white.  She believed, too, that he would
have read those answers out loud to her in that room in front of all
those agents if she had given him the least hint that she wanted to
be more than just his goddammed partner.

Mulder was so, so right.  She didn't trust him.  She had held back
even mentioning her unhappiness with their return to a strictly
professional relationship because she didn't trust that he would
understand.  He was waiting for her to say something, waiting for her
to give him a clue about what she wanted because he respected her too
much to assume anything or to do anything to make her uncomfortable.

"I'd do anything to make you happy, Scully.  Anything."  That's what
he had told her at the waterfall.  She knew now what that meant.  He
would do what she wanted, whether that meant being partners, being
friends, or more.  But she had to tell him what that was; she had to
ask for his help, his support, his love.  He would not give her
anything he wasn't sure she wanted.  That's what he had meant when he
said she had to talk to him.  The ball was in her court; he had
offered her everything.  All she had to do was take what she wanted.
 

What did she want?  They would need to move slowly, she knew, because
of her own cautiousness and because they had to make sure they were
both on the same plane, both coming from the same place.  That was
the only way to make a relationship like this work without losing
their professional relationship.  There was too much at risk to just
jump in without thinking.  She knew Mulder would be okay with taking
it slow.  He would do whatever she wanted.  That was so clear.  He
had only kissed her today *after* she said she missed him; he would
never have made that move without her confession.  The memory of that
simple, chaste kiss settled over her and warmed her through.  She
would have to get up the courage to call the shots because if she
didn't, Mulder would never push it.  She promised herself and made a
silent promise to Mulder that she would not deny him her honest
feelings anymore, even though she was still sorting out what those
feelings were, and what she wanted to do about them.

One thing she was sure of was that she wanted more of those kisses!
Lots more!  She'd work on that when they got back to D.C.  As
tempting as it was to slip out of the cabin and go tap on Mulder's
door, this was not the place to do it.  For the rest of this
conference they were FBI partners; everything else could wait a few
days.

Scully closed her book and re-folded Mulder's paper, slipping it
inside the cover of the book for safekeeping.  She turned off the
flashlight and rolled into her favorite sleeping position.  The tears
she had shed turned into a smile that wouldn't quit.  For the first
time in a very long time, she had something wonderful to look forward
to.

**********

In the morning, Scully stopped by Mulder's cabin to meet up with him
for breakfast.  She rapped on the door, but it was several moments
before he opened it.  Her heart was pounding nervously.  The one
thing Scully most dreaded was that things would be awkward between
them this morning.  That might even have been the one thing she had
always dreaded about getting close to Mulder.  They had a partnership
that worked perfectly; they couldn't afford any awkwardness or sudden
shyness around each other.  The communication lines had to stay open,
no matter what.

Mulder finally opened the door.  He was obviously running late and
had thrown on his clothes just before he answered the door.  His belt
buckle was undone and he was wearing a white dress shirt, but just
barely.  The shirt was untucked and unbuttoned all the way down.

Scully felt suddenly at a loss for words.  "Breakfast?" was all she
managed to get out.  She felt her eyes move of their own volition
from Mulder's face to his Adam's apple, then down the strip of bare
chest revealed by his open shirt.  She skimmed down the tanned
muscles of his chest, then his beautifully defined abs, toward the
open belt buckle and the line of dark hair just above it.  Her eyes
paused there, she wasn't sure how long, before slowly, slowly, slowly
making their way back up his chest again.  She'd seen him shirtless
and near naked many times before, but this time something was ticking
inside of her, some undefined need to run her hands where her eyes
had just been.  Damn.  This was new.  Very new.  Very, very nice.

Something in Scully's brain registered that Mulder had said something
to her.  She found her way back to his face, to his eyes, only to see
him smirking at her.  Oops.

"Should I repeat what I just said?  You seemed distracted."  Mulder's
eyes sparkled as brightly as his smile, teasing her without words.

"Um.  Yeah.  Please."  Scully knew she was blushing.  She felt it
over her whole body.

"I said," he drawled, putting a strong emphasis on the word "said"
just to rub it in a little, "that I'll meet you there.  I need a few
minutes to finish getting dressed."  He motioned to his open shirt.
There was that smirk again.

"Um.  Okay.  Yeah."  Scully's capability for language seemed to have
disappeared.  She snapped herself out of it.  "Okay, I'll see you at
breakfast then."  There, that sounded normal.  Mulder still had that
grin on his face.  Well, he knew now--there was nothing she could do
about it.  She turned and walked toward the main cabin, the image of
half-dressed Mulder and the words she had read last night burning
into her brain and flushing her cheeks.

Mulder caught up with her a few minutes later; she was sitting with
Kinsley and Stonecypher.  "Morning, Scully."  His hand brushed her
shoulder as he sat down on the bench next to her.  She knew he had
done it on purpose to assure her unobtrusively because they had an
audience.  "Sleep well?  Sweet dreams?"  The questions came with a
broad Mulder grin.

"Yes."  She smiled back, feeling a surge of . . . something.
Something powerful, scary, wonderful.  Mulder winked, and she knew
everything was going to be okay.  If they could survive this first
"morning after" without it affecting their professional partnership,
they could make it through whatever else changed between them.

The potential tension between them was aided by the final workshop of
the conference.  They were teamed with another pair of agents, and
the problem-solving exercises were involved and complicated, so there
was not much time for Scully to think about everything that happened.
 She was relieved for the distraction.  The ride to the airport with
Stonecypher and Kinsley would also, she had no doubt, be distracting.
 

**********

Mulder and Scully were back in D.C. by 5:00.  Mulder had left his car
at the airport, so they drove home together.  He pulled up in front
of Scully's building, moving the car smoothly into the no parking
zone just in front of the door.  He left the engine running, and
Scully found herself disappointed.  She had been hoping he'd come in
for a while.  Then she remembered that she had to call the shots.  He
wasn't going to assume anything, no matter how difficult that made it
for her.  She almost didn't ask, her usual fear seeping in.  What was
she afraid of?  What was she afraid of from Mulder?  Rejection?
Hardly.  She had little doubt that he'd take her up on the offer.
She had to be bold.  She was a bold person; she had just never been
very assertive in the romantic arena of her life.  That had always
been her problem.

"Do you want to come in for a while?  I could whip up something for
dinner.  You must be getting hungry."  She tried to make it sound
like a casual question, in case Mulder wanted to get home or
something.

Mulder didn't answer, but he peeled out of the no-parking zone so
fast the tires squealed.  He whipped the car into the first available
space and jumped out of the car immediately.  Scully laughed at his
endearing anxiousness.  Mulder popped the trunk and pulled out her
luggage, but she took it from him. Having him carry her luggage was a
bit too much.  He didn't argue, just handed it over and followed her
into the building.

**********

Mulder was in rare form once again, keeping Scully laughing over
dinner.  He seemed to be able to do that now in a way he hadn't
before.  Scully had thrown together a quickie chicken and rice dish
which Mulder devoured with delight.  He was slowly but surely
charming her, wooing her, and she loved every minute of it.

After dinner, they retired to the sofa to see what was on t.v.
Scully sat down close to Mulder, very close in fact, and he put his
arm around her.  She was relieved she wasn't going to have to do it
all herself.  The situation was so familiar after the two weeks
they'd spent together like this during her convalescence, but it was
different now also.  There was a very promising electricity in the
air.  Mulder flipped channels and finally settled on a news channel
report on a proposed satellite defense system.

After a few moments of silent togetherness, he turned to her.  "Are
you okay, Scully?"  The question was a common one, but she knew that
in this case Mulder meant much more than the usual.

"I'm fine, Mulder," Scully remarked, then decided she'd better
clarify that so Mulder didn't think she was being her usual
dismissive self.  "I'm actually *incredibly* fine."  Mulder smiled at
her and tightened his arm around her.

They settled into a comfortable silence again, but Scully felt like
there were things she needed to say.  Mulder had shared so much with
her, yet she still hadn't said much to him.  "Mulder, about this.
About us."  She noticed that the word "us" caught his attention.
"I'm not really sure where we're going, or how.  I just don't know
what to do."

Mulder gazed at her with such tenderness that she closed her eyes
momentarily from the sheer intensity of emotion she felt.  "Don't
*do* anything, Scully.  Don't analyze it.  Just go with it, one day
at a time.  There aren't any decisions that have to be made now,
tonight.  What we have right at this moment is all that matters at
this moment.  Don't worry about later."

That sounded very practical, like something she would say.  "I just
need time, Mulder.  I need to take things slow."  She felt she needed
to say that so he wouldn't misunderstand her hesitancy, her lack of
taking the initiative.  Time.  It had been little more than a month
since she thought she had run out of time.  Now that it had been
given back to her, there was no way she was going to squander it with
fear and doubt.

"Take as much time as you need.  We both need it.  We have things we
have to work out.  I'll wait."  He moved his hand below her chin and
pushed her head up so her eyes met his, his unbelievably beautiful,
honest eyes.  "I'd wait a lifetime for you, Scully."  He said it with
such assuredness, such confidence, and his sincerity touched her
soul.  And his words--oh my, what those words did to her!  If she had
heard them from anyone else she would have thought them sickly sweet
and sappy, like a tacky romance novel.  Somehow coming from Mulder,
though, they seemed deadly serious.  He was doing it again--laying it
all on the line, opening himself up to her without hesitation,
without doubt.  Would she ever be that bold?  Could she ever be that
trusting?  Even with him?

"It won't take that long, I promise,"  she teased.  He laughed with
what seemed like relief and kissed her on the cheek.  That wasn't
going to cut it anymore, not now that she had experienced his lips on
hers, even if only for a brief moment.  Time to be bold!

"That won't cut it anymore, Mulder," she announced with a sly smile.
Mulder looked at her quizzically.  She turned in his arms and brought
her hand to his face, stroking his cheek, then running her hand
lightly across that tantalizing bottom lip.

"My goodness, aren't we forward, Agent Scully?" he stammered in
feigned shock, but she saw the sparkle of laughter in his eyes.  She
smiled at him and then pressed her lips to his, softly and briefly.
It lasted no longer than the kiss he'd given her at the waterfall,
but its intensity was familiar.  How could she not love this man?  He
was so unselfish with her, so patient, so incredibly caring.  There
was so much she wanted to say to him to answer all he had said to her
over the past two days, but she wasn't ready for the words yet.
Instead, she moved closer to him and kissed him again, this time
letting passion overrule her brain which thought way too much for her
own good.

When they finally separated, Mulder's eyes were dancing and he had a
grin on his face the size of a small country.  Then he laughed.  For
an instant, Scully was offended, and worried, but then she started to
laugh too.  It was funny, after all--she and Mulder kissing on the
couch after everything they'd been through, all the years they had
spent together.  She was happy, and she could see Mulder was too.
Why shouldn't they just laugh together?  Mulder's laughter grew and
enveloped her, drawing her in to that moment, them, together, with so
much promise for the future.  Sure, they had a lot they had to work
out, decisions to be made about how to deal with the changes, and
compromises to ensure the health of their professional relationship.
At that moment, though, there in Mulder's arms, Scully believed that
they could have it all.

END

_____________
 

Sorry folks, it ends there for good.  I can write sappy mush, but not
smut (although I'm excellent at *reading* smut!)    :)

feedback to:  sbarringer@usa.net