Title:  Keep Your Eyes on the Road
Author:  Rebe (k_russ@hotmail.com)

Rating:  PG
Classification:  MSR, A
Spoilers:  Biogenesis, Amor Fati, Millennium

Disclaimer:  Of course they don't belong to me.  I think that's fairly
obvious.

Summary:  Scully comes to terms with her feelings.

___________________________________________

I must have been rubbernecking as I passed a billboard engagement ring ad
because I heard a car honking at me, which made me swerve back into my own
lane where I belonged. My cheeks had a little blush to them even though I
was certain that no one would ever know where my mind had wandered.  When I
was younger, even during my rebellious phase, I always thought I would get
married.  My husband would have dark hair and warm eyes and wear wire-rimmed
glasses so he could read the paper over coffee in the mornings.  I hadn't
thought about that in a really long time.

My work is more important to me now than ever.  I realized a long time ago
that I had been drawn into a life that was not going to be easy to get out
of if I wanted to, but now there was no question.  What I saw in Africa
changed things.  In what way and to what extent, I'm really not sure yet.  I
had an experience that I could not explain scientifically.  That had never
happened to me before on such a large scale, and it frightened me.  So every
evening I have been sitting down with a pen and trying to turn all of these
thoughts in my head into coherent sentences.  And not just what I saw in
Africa, but all of it.  Almost every night I think of something else that
has happened to me that I desperately need to make sense of.

I draw up old case conclusions on my computer and I sometimes smile at the
lack of emotion expressed in my concise written explanations of these
unexplainable cases.  See, my experience in Africa was driven purely by
emotion I felt for my partner and against those trying to hurt him.  My
desperate fight to save Agent Mulder was nothing if not personal.

I spent the week after I found him nursing him back to health.  I put my
work on hold, which is something I never do.  There was so much that I
needed to piece together, but not before I tended to him.  And to be honest,
I did it for my own well being just as much as Mulder's.  Well, maybe almost
as much.  It was just that I was as terrified as I'd ever been and I needed
to be close to him.  I didn't tell him this of course, but he probably knew.
  Oh, how my expression in my eyes gives me away these days...

So I spent the week caring for him.  I stroked his soft hair and his strong
back while he fell asleep.  And even though the voices were fading, I read
to him when they got to be too much.  He said my voice was very soothing to
him.  I never knew that before.  I let him read my journal from my time in
Africa, which I normally consider a gross invasion of my privacy.  In
Africa, however, I was really writing the words to him.  I would go in the
other room when he read it to leave him with his thoughts.  I think I heard
him crying once but I will never ask him.  During that week, I even sat with
him while he watched his basketball games, and in return he watched some
favorite old movies with me.  Just to be fair, of course.  But we never made
light of any of our time together.  There was something so intense between
us that made that impossible.

See, we have never really spent time together like that...as people with
fears and emotions and needs.  We each made a few attempts in hotel rooms
and in each other's apartments, but the conversation always came back to
work.  It might be because I take myself too seriously or possibly because
he's too afraid to get comfortable with having me around in that way.  I
guess I'll never know for certain.  But I generally try not to think about
any other road we might have taken, and appreciate the moments we get to
really enjoy each other.

After his spirits were higher and his body was stronger, I went back to work
to check in with A.D. Skinner.  I needed to ask him to hold as many cases as
possible, because we needed to concentrate on what happened to Agent Mulder
and on what I found in Africa.   He called me "Dana" again when he told me
about Agent Fowley.  Why does he do that...it offers me no comfort.

When I went back to Mulder's apartment to tell him, I had a strange feeling
in my gut that somehow he already knew.  He was on his way to the office,
even though he agreed to stay home and rest.  Maybe he just missed me too
much to be apart from me, I thought to myself, and I almost smiled until I
remembered why I had come.

After I told him about Diana Fowley I held him and offered him words of
comfort, which I can't exactly remember now.  But I do remember the
reaffirmation of our partnership that he offered me instead of expressing
grief that he must have felt from losing his friend.  It was inessential for
him to verbalize his feelings because of what had been happening between us.
  However, the time in which he chose to express them was important.  It was
somehow appropriate for us to talk about our strength as partners after
learning of her death.

I kissed him on his forehead and I didn't mean anything motherly by the
gesture.  I needed him so badly at that moment.  I felt so weak and so drawn
to him that it terrified me.  I even went so far as to stroke his soft mouth
and look deeply into his eyes.  But instead of kissing him, I walked away.
I heard him sigh deeply and I'll never know how much my leaving him at that
moment must have made him feel.

I leaned my head against the elevator wall and I wept simply to get some
release from the intense feelings I have for him.  On my way to my car I
made eye contact with an older woman carrying groceries into the complex.  I
felt weak for crying.

___________________________________________

It has been months since that day and I had been driving around now for
almost two hours when the rubbernecking incident took place.  It made me
think about my sister.  Melissa never understood why I got in my car and
drove for miles when something was bothering me to the point where I
couldn't handle it any longer.  She used to smile at me when I got back from
one of my drives, and wonder why I didn't choose eating chocolate ice cream
or renting "Breakfast at Tiffany's" or something normal like that.  My
sister knew I would never really fit into the "normal" category and she
loved me for it.  I miss her.

Mulder and I have been on a case involving a Millennium group that was
horrifying and strange.  We had to go to the hospital because Mulder's arm
was badly cut up; we were still at the hospital at the stroke of midnight.
We shared a sweet kiss, and it felt nice.  We had both suffered close calls
because of this case, and it was nice to take comfort in each other.  But I
think I noticed more sadness in his face than relief.


Last night Mulder came to my apartment unannounced.  I opened the door,
fairly certain it was him.  I stepped aside to let him come in.  I knew why
he was there.  He shut the door softly behind him, and he reached for me
with his long arms and held me for what felt like a really long time.  He
held my back with one arm and cradled my neck with the other, and his hands
were so soft and warm.  He laced his fingers through my hair and tilted my
head back to kiss me softly on my mouth.    It was a searching, long kiss
that brought emotions to the surface for me that I hadn't felt since that
morning we found out about Agent Fowley's death.  I think it was fear that
made me break the kiss, and he looked at me with such seriousness that I had
to look away.

"Scully..." I interrupted him before he could continue.  I took a step back
and I made sure my voice wasn't going to crack when I spoke.

"Mulder, what are you doing here?"  His face was a mixture of hurt and lust
and confusion at my question.  And his wheels began turning in his head as
he searched for a response.  But he didn't say anything, and we stood there
for a long time with nothing but our thoughts and silence.  I knew that I
would have to say something to make him understand why I hesitated.  But
instead of taking him back into my arms, I broke our eye contact and turned
away slightly.


He walked towards me and he took my face in his hands a little less gently
and with more intensity than before.  He made me look at him and then he
murmured something that I didn't understand.  He kissed my forehead for a
long time and then cradled my face and caressed my lips with his hands
before he turned and left.

___________________________________________

So now I'm driving around with so many thoughts in my head about Mulder and
the truth we are searching.  I have never asked him to come over on the
evenings when I pull out old reports and add thoughts to my journal.  I
wonder why that is.  After Africa, I know that I desperately want to talk
with him about our work and what we have accomplished together.

There are so many things I am uncertain of in my life and in my work, but
one thing I am not uncertain of is my partner.  I have been holding back my
feelings for him to the point where it is physically painful to force them
back inside me.   I'm not sure why I haven't given up my control and asked
him to love me.  Maybe I was holding on to a shred of the idea that I could
find a life separate from my work and from him.  Something normal and calm
to come home to after a trying case with my intense partner.

But normal isn't what I've wanted for a really long time.  I am proud of our
search for the truth.  I revisit all of my fantasy lives that I have
concocted over the years in my head, from when I was a little girl to when I
was a young woman.  The one thing they have in common is they don't involve
the kind of love I have with my partner.  But I'm not even sure if the
potential for normalcy is what's been keeping me from giving into my
feelings.  In all honesty, it has most likely been fear.

Now I find myself driving towards Mulder's apartment.  I get there with
little gas to spare, and I walk to the elevator and ride up to his floor.
His door is unlocked so I push it open slowly, and walk into the room.  I am
thankful that I don't have to have this conversation in his hallway, but I
have no idea what I am going to say.  I walk a few steps towards him and it
registers that he is sitting in relative darkness and that he hasn't turned
to look at me yet.

"Mulder?"  I think the shakiness of my voice makes him turn to me.  He can't
stand to see me upset, even though I have hurt him so badly.  I walk to him
and he takes my hands and pulls me down beside him.  He takes me in his arms
and rocks softly back and forth and lays his head on my shoulder.  I feel
him kissing my neck softly and murmuring into my ear.  His voice is so soft.

"No more crying, Scully."  It feels so good to have him hold me.  He knows I
am crying because I am afraid, and yet I know he doesn't think I'm weak for
it.  Mulder is the only person who knows that for me giving into my fear is
a show of strength.  I feel like I need to say something to him to tell him
why I'm there, even though he probably knows.

He pulls back from me and looks at my face, satisfied that my tears have
slowed.  "You don't have to be sorry for last night, Scully."  There is so
much sadness in his voice, and I realize that he doesn't know why I'm here.

I take his face in my hands, and as I kiss him I feel him shudder a little
at the contact.  His lips are so soft and it feels so good that I don't want
to stop kissing him, but I know that there are things to say.  I stop and
rest my forehead against his, and I whisper into his mouth almost inaudibly.
  "I love you..."

He stands and takes my hand and walks into his bedroom with me following
behind him.  And even though I can't see his face, I can feel him smiling.

We make love for a long time and he falls asleep with his head on my chest,
my fingers stroking through his hair.  I want to tell him how good this
feels.  I want to tell him that I am proud of the road I have taken with
him, and that I don't regret one turn that I made along the way.  But I
decide it can wait, as I kiss the top of his head and join him in sleep.

___________________________________________



*End*

Author's note: I hope you enjoyed it.  The timeline is messed up for obvious
reasons.  Thanks to Kimberly for the support and to Eliza for the superb
beta.

Feedback is welcomed and snuggled with at k_russ@hotmail.com