Seeing It By Jennifer Scott No E-mail - Rating: NC-17 for violent thoughts, language, lust, yadda yadda yadda. Archive: Gossamer, Ephemeral, yes. Anywhere else: yes, but I want to visit, and I can't do that if I don't know where it is, now can I? Classification: VA Rating: NC-17 for violent thoughts, language, lust, yadda yadda yadda. Keywords: M/S UST, Mulder POV Spoilers: Biogenesis Feedback: My therapist tells me that I have an inferiority complex. Would it help if Smokey the Bear ran in and said, "Only YOU can prevent deterioration of Jenn's mental health!" ? Set: End US 6. My memory's selective where Biogenesis is concerned. Disclaimer: You know, Jungians would argue that the characters choose the writer, not the other way around. So, you see, Chris Carter, even though they technically belong to you, you can't sue me, because Mulder and Scully made me do it. Even though I think they'd like me better than you. I wouldn't put them through things like Diana Fowley. (Yes, she's a thing. I never liked her, so, Chris, I don't care if you whine and say, "But how can you say that about her?!" Messages like that will be laughed at, then deleted.) The song "I Know" is performed by Jude, and can be found on the City of Angels Soundtrack, Track Nine. Author's notes at end. X~X~X~X~X "You've got such a pretty smile; It's a shame the things you hide behind it. Let them go, give it up for a while. Set them free, and we will both go find it." X~X~X~X~X She leaves the office and I watch her go, shamelessly admiring the sway of her hips as she walks away from me, blathering some useless lie about having an errand to run. Scully is aroused beyond reason, and she's not hiding it very well. I'm not sure what I did to bring this on, though I may have to kill someone if it's not me she's thinking about. So I'm a little posessive of her; anyone who has a problem with that can just fuck right off. You'd think that I'd have earned the right to be posessive after almost eight years, during all of which I have been pretty much THE man in Scully's life. Though I do have recurring nightmares about the day when some new guy shows up and catches her interest. He politely proceeds to tell me that I can get the hell out of her life; don't let the screen door hit me in the ass on the way out; leave them to their white picket fence, 2.5 kids, begonias, minivan, zwiebacks, and golden retriever, thank-you- very-much. Well, in my dreams he might think he's such hot shit, but I gotta tell ya: sticks and stones might break my bones, but my Sig Sauer P226 will tear that bully a new asshole. Besides, where was he all these years? Where was he when I was pulling her out of an alien spaceship in Antarctica? Or when her sister died? Or her daughter? Was he contemplating suicide for the three months she was gone? Was he setting his affairs in order, preparing to follow her when she succumbed to cancer? Where was he when Bill "BadMoFo" Scully, Jr, decided it was all *my* fault? Jesus H. Christ, if I'm the one who goes through all of this shit... If I'm the one who wades through it ankle-deep on the good days, and trudges through the smelliest crap known to all of mankind on the bad days... If I do all of this, and do it for *her* you would at least think I would have earned the right to be posessive of her. Right? I think so. But apparently she doesn't agree. Because even though I can see the flush that reaches deeper than the V of her silk blouse... and even though I notice the dilation of her pupils... even though I know that if she would just step a little closer, rather than run away, out the door, I would be able to smell the scent of her sex... Even though I am the one who brought her to this high... Even though... She walks away. Yeah, okay. So I'm posessive. I've already been over why I think that's warranted. I'm posessive, and she walks away. Hence, I am frustrated. And frustration inevitably leads to anger. Hell, if you need evidence of that, just look at the way I acted around Diana. I think that, to a certain extent, I was justified in that, too. I wanted to make someone aroused, someone who would let me see it. I wanted someone to shudder around me, and gasp my name. When she cried out 'Fox' rather than 'Mulder,' I got so damn disgusted with her, with myself, with the entire fucking situation, that I pulled out, still hard, and put my pants back on. She asked where I was going, but I think the fact that I didn't answer her kind of upset her. They picked me up halfway down the block and dragged my sorry ass to the loony bin. If I must say so myself, I put on a pretty good show for the cameras, kicking and howling and flashing my ass out the gap in the paper gown. I'm tempted to say that it never would have happened, if only *Scully* would have let me in on her secret passion, let me see it. But that wouldn't be fair. To give her some credit, she does let me in occasionally, but never all the way. It's just that she has all of these walls erected around herself. Gotta keep out the enslaving, invading forces, right? But, see, here's the thing: her logic behind the walls, behind keeping me out, is that emotional distance is armor for the heart. But we're already so much a part of each other that I don't believe for a second that, if one of us lost the other, whether or not we had been involved would make the loss any more painful. Do you hear that? I don't believe. Fox Mulder does not Believe! I want to climb up to the top of the Hoover building and scream it from the rooftops, but something tells me that wouldn't accomplish much, aside from making The Powers That Be consider sending me back to the loony bin. Besides, there are things that I want so much more, that would be infinitely more productive. I want my possessiveness to be justified. I want to be a part of Scully. I want to make her understand what it means to be complete. Hell, I want to understand that. I want her to open eyes glazed with passion and stare up at me as I push her down, weighing her into the mattress, claiming her as my own. I consider that last thought. So, apparently, I have progressed beyond posessiveness, well into territoriality. I suppose this is the Fox Mulder interpretation of lifting a leg and pissing onto her thigh. Though I think my way sounds significantly more pleasant. But, even if I am territorial when it comes to Scully, it's not like I'm unwilling to return the sentiment. Actually, that's another thing I want. I want for her to scratch her nails down my back and mark me as her own. I want for her to bruise me with her kisses. I want for her to claim me as her own. Okay, I suppose what I want comes down to this: I want her to be aroused and let me see it, and I want to be aroused and let her see it. Why can't she see that? Suddenly, I wonder if maybe she's waiting for the same thing as I: for the justification that comes with seeing it, undeniably, irrefutably. If I go to her, and if I show her, how will she respond? I know one way to find out. X~X~X~X~X "I am here and, I will be forever and ever, and I, I know there's nowhere you can hide it. I know the feeling of alarm. Trust me, and don't keep that on the inside." X~X~X~X~X Author's notes: The story insisted that I end it there. BUT, if y'all think I'm getting the hang of anything NC-17 (bear with me now, this is only the second post I've done higher than PG-13) let me know, and I might be persuaded to write a sequel. For the loyal clamorers, I'm still working on "Enemies." I promise I am. But, my brain keeps vomiting out other stuff every time I sit down to write chapter thirteen. (Which is funny, because I had trouble with Chapter Ten, too. Ten, Thirteen... hmm...) It happened with "One-Ninety Proof," and apparently it's happened with "Seeing It." And I just can't seem to write a story that'll keep people happy. I did get one complaint for the flippant manner in which I treated alcoholism in "One Ninety Proof," so I'd like to apologize for that. Though it was kind of balanced out by the EMail I got from someone active in a 12 Step Program who said I'd done a fine job. Potayto, Potahto. Plus, I'll apologize in advance (Although I suppose if you're reading this, you've already finished the story.) for the fact that my Mulder characterization my differ a little from the way most people see him. To me, he comes across as somewhat violent, barely controlled, and rather profane. That's just my interpretation, but I went with it. I thought about it, and decided I'm right. And you can agree with me, or you can be wrong.