Title: Apologies Author: Xtremus E-mail Address: Andibeth82@aol.com Rating: NC-17, R for language Classification: S, MSR..if you really aren't a shipper in any way, you can take the first exit on your right. Spoilers: One Son, FTF, iddy biddy tiny spoilers from Emily, cancer arc, "One Breath," "War Of The Coprohages" Disclaimer: Okay, here we go again.....Mulder and Scully and Melissa and Diana belong to the chief at 1013 Productions, Chris Carter and I intend no infringement whatsoever, I am just borrowing them. Besides, if they were mine, this story would have happened a long, long time ago. Archiving: Yes, just e-mail first for permission and keep my name with it. Summary: Post One Son. Scully and Mulder sort out their feelings for each other through a number of memories, including Diana, the events in One Son and the hallway scene in the movie. Wanna know the rest? Scrollllll on down. Feedback is gobbled up and worshiped if ya send it to Andibeth82@aol.com < > indicate the characters thoughts. * * indicate words that are bolded or emphasized Apologies By: Xtremus (1/3 ) ****************************************************************************** Alexandria, VA Early Friday morning 1:01 AM I sit in my car, alone, distracted, listening to the beat of the rain as it pounds against the sidewalk. The light in his apartment is on and I know he is home. It's 1 am, not a hint of a star in the early-morning sky and it's dark, painfully, hauntingly dark, yet I can see the outline of his broad body standing near the window each time a lightning bolt silhouettes the night sky. My throat pulses, my heart pounds against my ribs and I yearn to run out into the rain, to pound on his door the way the rain is pounding on my car roof, to apologize for everything that has happened this evening, for everything I've ever said that's made him hate me the way he does now. But I can't. My brain is stuck between thoughts like the rusted gears of a bicycle, my legs seem to be glued to the interior leather of the seats. I nervously fiddle with my car keys and keep crossing and uncrossing my stocking legs restlessly, biting my lower lip. Jesus, Dana, what the hell is wrong with you? Is it so hard to go inside and talk to your partner, after all he's done for you? After all you've been through together? Well, in this case, yes. I bet he knows exactly what I'm feeling right now. He's smart in that way, and I've known Mulder long enough that he has come to read my mind and can tell if I'm holding back anything. It's become almost mutual between us, and a lot of times I don't give it much thought. In fact, a lot of times I get as pissed off as hell at *any* analyzations he does of me. But tonight was different. Suddenly different. My self conscious feelings were flooding my brain like a tidal wave, and maybe that was what was keeping me sitting here in this damn car like an overgrown couch potato. But.....what if he's really mad at me? God, I had never meant to hurt him. I hadn't meant to say all those things about Diana Fowley, even if I knew, deep down inside, I really did hate that women more than words could say. But it had all happened so fast. I didn't have time to even register his emotions. Once again, Dana Katherine, you have won the award for Best Female to Turn Off A Guy Because of Your Actions. Zip a dee do dah. What if he really is mad at me? So mad he won't come to work tomorrow, even though we have the X-Files back for good? I need to apologize for hurting him.....I need to go in there. I have to. I can't. ****************************************************************************** She's been down there for nearly an hour, and I'm beginning to wonder if she's ever gonna come up. We've spent six years together as partners, and I've come to know by now that apologies aren't particularly her strong point. She likes to be the one who's right, the one who *you* should apologize too. And considering after what had happened tonight, I can tell she's probably as nervous as hell about this whole incident. She's probably mulling to herself in the car, afraid that I'm not gonna be mad at her. I crack a sunflower seed restlessly between my teeth, and unconsciously spit the unwants into a small plastic bowl as I think. She thinks everything is her fault. She is a little like me, blaming herself for things that she wasn't involved in, like the way I had blamed myself for her abduction five years ago, and her cancer two years after that. She thinks I'm furious. She thinks she broke my feelings, my soul, my only reasons to ever speak to her again. She couldn't be farther from the truth than she was right now, I could tell that much. In the glow of the street lamp, I can almost discern her slim figure from the curtain of rain that falls so steadily and I watch sadly as she waits silently, pondering over the whole thing. I have a sudden urge to run out into the rain and yank her out of the car, to tell her its not her fault, to kiss and hug her, to confess that it's her I love, not Diana. My fingers drum against my desk as I restrain myself and sigh, running my long fingers through my most recent horrible haircut. I've always known that deep down inside, I loved her and cared about her more than anything else. God, Scully, if only you knew how beautiful you are to me, how prefect, how much I want to have you. If only you knew that I'm *not* mad at you. I often wonder if she feels the same way about me. We've both risked our lives for each other more than once, and it's come to cross my mind that maybe she, like me, can't just live with this platonic relationship. Once she comes in here, I have to set her straight. I have to tell her everything, even if it means making her angry because she doesn't feel the same way. I can't stand another moment not knowing how she feels about the whole damn thing. Another seed between my teeth, I bite agonizingly as I move from the window and pace up and down the length of my living room, waiting for her arrival. ****************************************************************************** I can see him pacing. He's probably seen me sitting here by now, sitting here like a stupid incompetent fool and having a hard time with this. He's probably been watching me the whole fucking time too, analyzing me. Watching my every move, the way he's so annoyingly, and yet so lovingly done all these years. He does that. Making sure I'm alright, caring about my feelings even when he doesn't care about his. Take Antarctica for instance. The man illegally violates medical ethnics and leaves a hospital with a bullet wound to the head, travels to Antarctica and goes to hell length to rescue me. Talk about looking out for someone you care about. Dammit, where was all this shit coming from? I have actually never felt sexually for Mulder, although more than once I have wondered what it would be like to kiss him. He probably has very nice kisses. And he probably will know what he's doing, since he reads all those porno magazines he tries to hide. Like I don't know those are *his*videos he hides in his sock drawer. It's not that I wouldn't want to have a sexual relationship with Mulder. But we're partners, and after working together for so closely for so long, it would be considered strange if I suddenly hopped into bed and began making love with him. At least to me. Well, maybe to him to, but I know he'd never in a thousand years admit it. Besides, he can't possibly want what I want, right? But why would he want to kiss a women who has just hurt him so badly he almost walked out on her? I don't know if we would be even talking to each other if Agent Spender hadn't called me down to try to stop his mother from being taken. Damn, what a huge big mess this was. The rain is worsening. It beats against the car roof the way Missy and I used to bang on the kitchen pots when we were little. I think I am going to tear a hole in my stockings if I cross my legs one more time. I know in my mind I have no choice, that I have to face him, have to talk to him. And if not now, when? I quickly check my reflection in the rearview mirror. Holy jesus, I looked like hell. My hair was messed and sweaty, my eyeliner running, and were those tears I hadn't even felt dried up on my cheeks? Reaching for my purse, I pull out a mini brush and run it through my red locks. I smear off the eyeliner with a spare kleenex, and wipe the tear stains from my face. So what if I still looked like the way I did after I had gotten dumped with manure when I was on some roach case years ago. He probably wouldn't care anyway. He won't want anything to do with me, not after what I've done to him. Taking deep breaths to try to secure all the nervousness I can feel building up inside, I step out into the rain, slamming the car door behind me. ****************************************************************************** I'm sitting on my couch, waiting for her and biting my lower lip to keep from going crazy. The sunflower seeds are no longer a resource for comfort. I know she's left her car, and if she's any slower getting in here, I think I'm gonna explode. I bet she's in the complex, I bet she's probably standing outside my apartment right now, thinking of what to say. I bet she can't bring herself to knock on the door because she thinks I'm gonna yell at her for what she said tonight. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, her sensitive soul tends to break very easily, usually over things she cares about, like hurting me. Which just shows how much she cares about me, even if she doesn't show it straight out. I care about her so much. God, she is the one thing in the world that keeps me sane. Ever since that first night together, when I had first told her about Samantha's abduction, I had sensed her sympathy. She never showed it through her calm front or her rational science crap, but even though she might not have believed me, she had generated a calming wave of sympathy, of compassion, of care. And I knew from that first night that I'd love her and care about her more than anything else in the world. And I have. We've confided in each other our innermost secrets, our memories, our passions and yet she *still* can't come in and talk to me? I close my eyes and lean my head back against the soft worn leather of my couch. ***************************************************************************** I wonder if he can hear my breathing, which sounds loud and raspy and is coming out in irregular gasps. Jesus, why was I getting so worked up about this? Six years, and we've been through more than this. I've confronted him in times far much worse. Like when I was a basket case all over my cancer incident. And Emily. Oh, god, Emily. That had to be the worst. I wonder if he'll ever forgive me for throwing him out of my room the night she died. It wasn't that I didn't want his comfort. I wanted it more than anything. But I couldn't break down in front of him. I couldn't let him see me. It was too embarrassing, even for his sake. But why is this so hard to do now? I feel the question burning in my mind like a hot acid. Because of Diana. I lean back against the wall and let out a long, deflating sigh that seems to drain all the energy out of my body. I close my eyes briefly, as the events of the night rewind themselves and play out in my head. "Scully, you're making this personal." "Because it is personal, Mulder. Without the FBI, personal interest is all I have. And if you take that away, there is no reason for me to continue." All I have. My eyes begin to well with tears, and this time I can feel their weight on my eyelids. I open my eyes slowly, my vision blurring. It was true. Ever since the deaths of Missy, of my father.....I had continued to work because I had hoped one day, like Mulder to find an answer to everything. I had continued to work because Mulder had given me the strength to continue. And now, the only person that really cared about me was sitting behind a closed door, probably using Scully voodoo dolls to express the anger I had caused him. But what had made me say those things in the first place? Was it jealousy? I knew Diana did not deserve Mulder, she did not deserve his love, his admiration, even his company. And until this year, he had never talked about her, or even mentioned her for that matter. But he was becoming friendly with her again. Friendly like we were. Like partners. She even called him Fox, and no one has done that for as long as I can remember. Even my mother calls him ‘Mulder'. Mulder. He has to know how I feel. He has to know that if he wants to love Diana, he can do it without me by his side. Believers don't need medical doctors. I swallow hard, compose myself somewhat, and face his door, the gold metallic numbers of 42 glistening in the dim hall light. I lift my shaking hand, and once the pounding starts, I can't stop it. He opens the door in the midst of my third knock and looks refreshed and surprisingly calm in the middle of the night. Dammit, dammit, dammit! I knew he saw me down there. I just knew it. He was probably thinking how stupid I was to even come out here. I know he's not gonna listen to me. Six years, and he never has. Why start now? I don't say anything, but manage to look into his eyes as I wordlessly let myself in and drop my coat on the floor. **************************************************************************** I wonder if she knows how beautiful she looks even with her hair dripping in her face and her clothes a sopping mess. One look at her and I can tell she's known I've been watching and waiting for her. Well, she doesn't hide things very easily. It would be pretty obvious to anyone when she drove down here in the rain and parked right beside my complex, not moving for an hour. I nod silently as she throws her coat onto the floor and paces up and down, like I had been doing only a few moments before. I say nothing, and pick her coat up off the floor, hanging it on my coat rack. Oh god, the coat, it smells like Scully. It smells like her sweet breath, her perfumed scent, the scent that gives me those sexual feelings about her, the feelings that make me keep coming to back to the office every day. The scent cements it. She has to know how I feel, and there's no way I can put it off any longer. And if she doesn't feel the same about me, at least I'll know and stop wasting my time. She turns to face me, avoiding my glance, and opens her mouth to speak while I wait intently. ****************************************************************************** Apologies (2/ 3) ****************************************************************************** If I look at him, I know I won't be able to do this. Just get it over with, Dana, I say silently to myself. My fingers feel tensed and cold, my legs are wavering. I take a deep breath. "I guess....." Mulder looks at me all ears, nodding slightly, encouraging me to go that one last step. "Look, Mulder.....what I want to say is...I mean...." "I just want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Mulder." There, I've said it. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry for everything, everything that's happened. I never meant to interfere with your personal life, you know. If you want Diana, that's fine with me. I'm not....you know.....jealous or anything......" "Scully...." "No, Mulder, let me finish! I had no right to interfere with your life and make this case personal. It was all wrong. I broke protocol, I went against the ethics of our partnership, I don't know what happened, Mulder, but I know I had no business with any of it. Diana is your life and your past, and if you want to...." ****************************************************************************** I listen to her ramble and smile to myself. She can't see it. I know she can't. She looks so sad and so lost and I am fucking sick and tired of listening to her ramble on like the whole goddamed thing is her fault. I'm tired of listening to her blame herself for something that is not even true, and I'm sick and tired of holding my feelings back. With a burst of sheer energy that came from God knows where, I pull her close in midsentence, and kiss her tightly. She's surprised, I can tell, but she kisses me back. Or that's what it seems like. I'm kissing her so tightly my lips are numbing and I can't feel anything below my jawline. Or maybe it's just from pleasure. I never imagined it would feel this good to be kissing Scully. Then again, as much as I've thought about it, I never imagined I *would* be kissing Scully. ***************************************************************************** Jesus, what the hell happened? One second I'm trying to apologize, the next I'm in Mulder's mouth. I knew this was a bad idea. I should have never trusted my instincts to drive over here. What was I thinking? What was I thinking? What was I fucking thinking? He pulls away just as suddenly as he had started, and we are both breathing hard. But from what? From fear? From pleasure? From excitement? I have to admit, Mulder is a pretty good kisser. I wonder how he learned to get that good. My heart suddenly drops about ten feet to the ground, and I stare up at him sadly, tearfully, while he stares back, his face a mask of question. "Where did you learn to do that?" I ask accusingly, my voice wavering and my eyes fighting back wet tears. "From Diana?" That does it. He explodes. "Jesus fucking Christ, Scully, no. Where do you get these crazy ideas?" he holds me roughly, staring forcefully into my porcelain blue eyes so hard I can feel them shattering within me. "Scully, listen to me. Just shut up and listen to me. Diana is my past. That's all. Yes, she and I worked together once, yes, we shared a partnership, but that's all. Dammit, Scully, I could never tell Diana things I tell you. You keep me sane, you keep me going everyday. You keep me wanting to wake up every morning, to go to work, to continue things even after I'm sure they're lost. I....I can't even imagine what my life would be like without you, Scully. Fuck, I have no feelings for Diana, can't you see that, Scully?" His voice winds down, suddenly sounding high in pitch and tired and defeated. " My only feelings are for you." ****************************************************************************** Oh god, he's being so damn rational and honest I'm beginning to feel like I have to believe him. But why did he tell me now? Why is it just because of now he's telling me? Why now and not two years ago when I was sure I loved him more than anything? "Scully, why don't you believe me?" he whispers softly, his monotone voice a husky breath against my ear. I take a deep breath, fighting off my emotions that I can feel welling up inside me. "It's hard.....to trust" I finally say, stepping back and looking down from his gaze. "Mulder, you don't know what it's like. You don't know how it feels not to be sure of who to love, who to talk to. I've *been* in too many situations where I think everything is going to turn out okay and in the end, it ends up being totally wrong. I'm sick of it, Mulder." My voice suddenly becomes strong and powerful, despite my venerable feelings. "I mean, even Jack...Jack who I thought loved me...and Ed Jerse..." "Ed Jerse is not that kind of guy you want to love, trust me" Mulder quips, breaking into my thoughts. I ignore him, despite the fact it's somewhat true. "I don't care! Mulder, people drop hints all the time, all the people I care about. They keep telling you how they love you, how they care about you, but you know what, Mulder? I've never been in a fucking relationship where a person has actually said to me they love me. Everything and everyone I've always loved has either been taken away from me or run off. There have been men, who, I thought they cared about me but end up just hurting me and I'm damn sick of it. It's not easy to break a woman's heart, you know." "I guess I fall into that category, huh?" he deadpans, biting his lower lip. "Like the hallway, Mulder." I can feel my face become a mask of sadness as I relate the memory in my brain. My voice softens. "It's been six months. Why haven't we talked about that afternoon, why?" ****************************************************************************** Apologies (3/3) ****************************************************************************** Shit. I was hoping she'd stay away from that subject. Totally un-Diana related. My weakest memory to talk about. Especially with her. But when she started all that crap about people caring about her and all, I knew it was coming. And I knew I'd have to answer or I'd be a dead man. In her perspective, at least. "What do you mean? We've talked about it" I say, laughing a little and backing away, trying to get off the subject. Her voice is like ice. "Not the way we should have, Mulder and you damn well know it." I do know it. That's the worst part. I take a deep breath, struggling to sort out my feelings and there is a shot of silence. "I....I don't know" I finally say honestly, staring into her eyes. It's the truth, and I don't know how to explain it. "It was..it was like a dream, Scully. The whole thing. I mean, one second you were crying, one second you were in my arms, one second you were almost about to kiss me...one second it was about to be the best moment of my life and the next thing I know you're lying on a stretcher and I'm shot in the head." "It's the principle of the thing, Mulder" she says, placing her hands on her hips. "Is it so damn hard to talk about what we were feeling that afternoon? I mean, honestly, you can tell me you love me, and not Diana, and yet you can't tell me what came over you six months ago out there?" She's right, and she knows it. I sigh and shake my head, rubbing my forehead. "Do you really want to know, Scully?" I say suddenly, staring down at her. I know I don't even need an answer, and I continue. "I felt like I was going to lose you. You don't know how I felt when you told me you were going to leave me. It didn't mean much to you, I'm sure, but it tore me apart. I couldn't even think straight. Scully...I loved you so much that day. I couldn't even think about what was going to happen if you left. You're my world, your my life. I couldn't let you go. If you left...I don't think there would be anything in this world I could do or say to feel the same again." He stares up at me, his puppy-dog eyes drooped and pleading and begging me to understand. ****************************************************************************** He's pouring out his heart to me, and I know this time he's as serious as hell. My eyes water with tears of profound joy, and I can't stop a smile from coming onto my face. Even through the complications, the untold secrets, he really does care about me. He couldn't know how much it possibly meant to me. And despite that, I still felt incomplete. "You still didn't answer my question" I say, shaking my head and pursing a smile. "Come on, Scully--" "No, Mulder, listen. I asked *why* we hadn't talked about it in so long. You didn't answer that, and I want to know why." He sighs again and steps back, falling onto the couch, and tossing a near-empty bag of sunflower seeds listlessly onto the coffee table. "I wasn't sure you felt the same way" he said softly, almost hoarsely. I move closer to discern his words that he speaks to the rug. "What?" "Do you think it's...it's *easy* for heaven's sake to have such an awkward moment and then try to tell someone about it? Someone who you're sure doesn't feel the same way about you as you feel about her? I felt if I told you....that....I love you.....I'd lose you" he said quietly. "Because I wasn't sure if you loved me or not. And I don't want to make any more mistakes, especially in relationships. And especially with you." Now I wish I'd brought a tissue with me, because my eyes are watering faster than the rain is falling outside his window and I'm sure I look like I god damn mess. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" I whisper, brushing away my tears and moving to where he sat. If I could, I'd tell him every spare moment, every spare millisecond I'd spent wondering what would be happening between us if we had gotten that kiss. But I don't. Instead, I turn towards him and stare into his hazel eyes. "You know, sometimes I do wonder" I continue in a soft voice. "I wonder...I wonder where we might be if we had gotten that kiss that day. How our lives would be different. I've dreamed it, I've fantasized it, Mulder. And I have a million different ways it could have gone, millions of ways I've always *wanted* to tell you." "But you thought I wouldn't feel the same way" he comprehends slowly, gently stoking the palm of my hand. I nod, fighting back tears. "And after tonight, I thought I'd lost you forever" I whisper in a voice barely coherent. "I thought all those dreams would only ever be dreams. I don't want it that way." He's close to crying, tears of joy, tears of love but he laughs a bit anyway. "Why the hell did you wait so long to come tonight, then?" he says, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. I sink into the warmth of his shirt and bury myself against his chest. "I guess I was scared" I admit, as he draws circles on my back and makes me shiver with pleasure, the kind of pleasure I thought I might never have. "Don't be scared" he whispers, tilting my head up and placing his lips against mine, kissing me gently. His mouth opens wider, and I am caught in the web of his mouth and tongue. Mulder's mouth. I kiss back with growing passion, kissing him with so much love, so hard I can feel my lips numb from the pressure. ****************************************************************************** Her kisses are so vital, so beautiful I can't stand another moment of not having her. "Scully, you are so...." I mumble, my voice a jumble of sentences as I fall into her, burying my hands into her hair and finding the back of her neck while my mouth works to caress hers. I can feel her hands on my face, stroking my cheeks and tenderly massaging my neck as her hands work downward towards my shoulders and still she kisses into me, now with more passion than before. Kissing Scully is more wonderful than I ever imagined I could kiss with anybody. My hands find her chest, work to unbutton the tiny stitches on her shirt. It can't fall away fast enough, and when it does, I move my hands against her bare shoulders, moving my mouth over them, taking in the scent of her. She's even more beautiful than her coat tells me. My hands slide down to her lower back. "Is this what you imagine I do to Diana?" I whisper softly, running my fingers over the curve of her spine and gently unhooking her bra strap. She shakes her head slowly, lost in oblivion, the oblivion of our togetherness. The satin enclosure of her most private parts falls away, allowing me full notice of her breasts. God, they are beautiful. No doubt she was a Catholic, but God had made her perfect in every way. "Jesus...." I mutter, and for a moment, I have lost all control. I am at a loss for words, I can't even breathe as I stare at Scully's beautiful breasts. They are round and creamy white and full and so perfect I can't take my eyes off them. She moves her hands down my back, kissing my neck. "Do you imagine I do this, too?" I ask softly, gently massaging their fullness. I run my hands over her smooth nipples and move my mouth down, sucking at them like a newborn child, kissing them. She groans inwardly as she falls into me, and I'm lost in a world of Scully, only Scully as I move my mouth around her breasts and down the haven of her stomach. ****************************************************************************** Jesus Christ, what the hell had I been missing all these years? This was perfect. No, not perfect, wonderful. I never imagined having Mulder would give me so much pleasure. And it feels so right, too. Like fate. A guttural groan escapes me as his mouth moves over my bare breasts, then down my sides. My hands move to his front, working blindly ro remove his tee shirt as my eyes are closed in heaven and my mouth is still protectively connected to his. The shirt drops to the floor as I fall back on him, massaging his thick masses of hair, his strong stomach, his broad chest. I lay my head beneath his neck and trace my fingers along his nipples, caressing them. I bring his fingers to my mouth, breaking the kiss and inserting them into heaven, licking the tips of his fingers. Oh god, he tastes so good and this is so right and why didn't we do this sooner? "Sculleee..." He groans in pleasure, and I move myself onto his body, pressing into him until I can feel his erection between my legs and it is pure bliss. I gasp inwardly as he works to remove my slacks, my underwear, my stockings and fingers, sliding his fingers into the outer lips of my vagina and fingering my cilt. Oh, this is heaven. Pure heaven. God help me. He presses into me, straddling himself against my bare body, kissing me, fingering me, loving me. I can feel a sensation burning in the lower part of my stomach and he continues to kiss me and finally, it explodes and I gasp in pleasure as my orgasm consumes him. "Oh, god, Scully..." he is moaning, gasping for air. "We....we should've..." I raise my head and place a wet finger to his lips. "I know" I whisper, my chest heaving with exhaustion. "Is this what you pictured it being like if we had gotten that kiss last summer?" he whispers back. I smile to myself, cradling his body between mine and laying my head on his chest. "Far from it" I mutter, in a voice barely audible but I know he has heard me. I sigh contently to myself as I feel the rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against my sweaty mass of hair. Never mind that we have to be at work in about four hours. Never mind that the sun was beginning to emerge from behind the trees and my car was still parked illegally in front of the complex. Never mind that we, two partners who had since been afraid to open up, had now just spent one of the most fulfilling lives of our life together. None of it mattered. And tonight had been enough, for now at least. And maybe apologies aren't so bad after all. END **Feedback is my best friend!! Send it pleeeease to Andibeth82@aol.com**