By Ana Hawkman
Anahawkman@hotmail.com

Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: is anything spoiler-
    Free anymore?
Category: MSR, some A
Archiving: anywhere, just drop
    Me a line so I can comeVisit!
Feedback: I WOULD LOVE YOU FOREVER!
    Anahawkman@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully not mine, yadda yadda, what?!
 

IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is a direct
response to Amanda's newest, ''The Answer.''
Read hers first!!
 
 
 
 
 

For a moment in time, they are a conventional
family. Until, of course, he pulls back from
her and asks if he should leave. If he has a
place with her anymore, or if he needs to step
off to the side. And God knows he couldn't handle
the latter.

A memory crosses behind her eyes, replaying like
a video file with certain frames captured, held
in place for seconds that seem to stretch into
forever. She remembers him unbuttoning her shirt
with trembling fingers, meeting her eyes and
promising with the most intense sincerity that he
loved her. I'm not doing this for the sex, he'd
murmured, his breath coming in short puffs and his
hands softening possessively against her hips. I'm
doing it because I love you and because you're
everything to me more than the work Scully tell me
to stop if you don't want this God Scully tell me to
stop I want to give you a baby I'm sorry it won't work
all that you've done for me and I can't even give you
some good fucking sperm but you're my entire life you
know that don't you
     forgive me Scully

"Hey," he murmurs, his voice husky. Too many kisses
and not enough words, she realizes, understands that
he is so unsure of himself their non-verbal communication
has reached its limit. He's leaving. The key to her
apartment on his key chain, he's going home.

"Don't go back," she pleads suddenly, her voice a loud
in the room. She meant to say 'Don't go back to your
apartment,' but it came out as a half-thought and she
finishes it with one surprisingly finite word: "Ever."
His eyes question her. "You asked what I want."

"Yeah...?" He is half insecure, needing the words, and
half missing her point.

"*I want* you to make me buy sugary cereal for you and
Will and I want to watch you two eat it at the kitchen
table. I want you to drink out of the orange juice
carton at four o'clock in the morning-- in the kitchen--
in your boxers-- with bare feet-- half awake. I want
you to play Candyland with your son on weeknights. I
want to go to the zoo with the two of you. I want to...
I want you to tuck him into bed and spoil him with love
and I want to see him grow to look like you."

She pauses, swallows, stumbles on in that dim yellow
lamplight, watches as her partner shifts their son
to his other arm. The baby sleeps and her tears come,
finally, after weeks of holding them back. "I want
you to quit the subscriptions to those girlie magazines
and look at *me* instead," his eyes shoot up to meet
hers. "I want to laugh at your stupid jokes. I want
you to challenge things I say just like you used to...
I want you to take that *damn* jacket off and I want..."
her final words bleed together through tears. "I want
your books in my bookcase..."

He shushes her softly, something he rarely does when
she is in such an emotional state. But his hand comes
up, cups her cheek and tracks her tears as they slide
down. "Scully," he murmurs soothingly, lovingly. His
voice drops to a whisper. "It's okay." He kisses the
bridge of her nose, nuzzles her face quietly before
pulling himself away. "Lemme put this baby down," he
says quietly, comes back to her and kisses her with all
of the restrained passion he has been feeling. And in
that quiet bedroom, in the one moment of peace in their
lives, she has finally mustered the courage to expose a
woman much different from the one he'd met ten years ago.

He realizes that all he's ever wanted to give her is
within his reach. She no longer needs revenge or truth
or the endless crusade as she used to... and he finds
in a singular and fearful realization that neither does
he. She wants little things-- little things that lie on
the planes of his mortal palms and he nearly laughs at
the thought of it. He never expected to be capable of
giving her a fraction of what he wanted to.

He presses the softness of her body into the bed,
caressing her mouth with his, folding her delicate
fingers with his own. He wraps her against his chest
and loves her with everything he is.
 
 

finis
Anahawkman@hotmail.com

http://www.geocities.com/anahawkman