Title: The Fork (1/2) Author: shabby chic E-Mail: romanesc@hotmail.com Rating: NC-17 Class: Story, romance Spoilers: None Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance Summary: It takes Scully's engagement for Mulder to realize how he feels, one night to show it, but all reason she needs to stay is for him to ask. Disclaimer: The X-Files doesn't belong to me. I'm making no money out of this. The X-Files, Mulder and Scully were created by Mr Carter and belong to him, Ten Thirteen and Fox. They're making millions. Personal note: Written 7/98, fic #6. This story is set sometime after the Christmas Carol and Emily saga but doesn't have anything to do with it. Just a minor de- tail, that's all. Set before The End. Please send any comments and stuff of the sort to me! ************** PROLOGUE ************** The night had been perfect so far. After work, he surprised her with a dinner reservation for two at her favorite restaurant. They had dinner; the wining and dining, then left the restaurant for a walk in the park barefoot. She smiled; there was no reason not to. They completed the night with the casual stroll in the dim, romantic mood of the moonlight. All he has to do now is propose! Scully thought, laughing. They came to a stop by an old oak. "Dana," he started as he took both her hands in his. "I've been waiting for the right time, and tonight has been pretty perfect. . ." He got down on one knee and pulled out a small velveteen ring box from his pocket. She gasped at the gorgeous single studded diamond engagement ring he held before her. "Dana," he continued. "Will you marry me?" She was surprised speechless as she stared down at him, her mind reeling with unspoken thoughts she was unconscious of; all were Mulder, yes! "Dana? Dana?" a voice coaxed her out of the daydream. "What? Oh, Drew, I'm sorry. What did you say?" she asked, a little dazed. "I just asked you to marry me," the man said with concern, stand- ing up and brushing the dew off the knee. "What's wrong? Didn't you enjoy tonight?" "Of course I did," Scully assured him apologetically. She rested her hands lightly on his shoulders and looked at his tie, "I was just a little distracted, that's all." Drew nodded. He placed his hands on her waist and bent down to be within her field of vision, "So?" Scully looked at him. "So, what?" she asked. He waved the ring in front of her. "I asked you a question. . . or do you want me to wet my other knee and ask you again?" he smiled. ************** THE FORK (1/2) ************** She had been waiting for the chance to settle down, and it was here. Now. So why was she feeling so irritated? The thought of marrying and starting a family excited her. . . Drew knew she couldn't have children, but there were always other options that he was so wonderfully enthusiastic about. So what explained the agitation she was feeling? Scully thought as she descended the familiar stairs to the base- ment office tucked away from everything. When she glimpsed the shut door, she felt as though her stomach fell away. It happened so suddenly she almost gasped. And then she knew what she was afraid of -- telling Mulder. But why? She imagined a situation reversal. What would she feel if Mulder gave her the news she was about to tell him? She would be happy for him! And he should be for her. She thought again, deeper. She would be happy for him, but. . . unhappy. Marriage meant leaving the Bureau, leaving a five year long partnership. She didn't want that to end. The door was right in front of her. Inside, she saw Mulder squatting by the filing cabinet, sifting through folders. He heard her enter and twisted a little to greet her. "Hi," he smiled. The worry slipped her mind momentarily. The way he greeted her in the mornings always put a smile on her face. His 'hi's were always genuine and his smiles made her feel at ease. "Good morning," she replied. She decided not to bring it up straight away. No need to shock him first thing Monday morning. It would be better to find a moment to slip it in with a nice segue. "What are you doing?" "Nothing," he answered honestly, flicking through more file folders. "Just organizing stuff." He got up with a heave and slapped the few selected files onto the desk and sat behind it. "Have a nice weekend?" This is it, Scully thought. The segue. She sat down on the opposite side of the desk. "It was. . . good." She really didn't know what to say or how to say it. Mulder looked at her curiously. "Good good or bad good?" he asked. She sighed. She was going to tell him. "It depends, I guess." "You went out with. . . with Drew, didn't you?" He leant back in his chair, pressing his fingertips together so his hands looked like a disabled spider doing push ups on a mirror. Oh God, Mulder, Scully whined inside. Why do you have to approach this so directly? "Yes, I did." "And. . .?" "And. . . we had dinner, a night stroll. . ." Mulder nodded. "And. . . he, uh. . ." She took a breath. "He asked me to marry him." Scully was afraid to look at him, but she needed to know what he was thinking. Mulder froze. He leant forward, looking as though he was about to say something. But instead, he blinked and looked around the room briefly, then leant back again. When he finally spoike, his voice was quiet, "What was your answer?" Scully didn't know how to interpret his expression. Shock was there, definitely, but there was something else that lay behind his surprise. Disappointment? Sadness? Jealousy? "I told him I'd think about it," she answered honestly. He nodded. It was an awkward moment. He stood up to walk to the other side of the office. Scully slumped in her chair a little. "Why did you say you'd think about it?" Mulder asked from where he was standing. He was playing with the projector, his back to her, pretending to be unaffected, trying to sound blasé. "Why else would I say it unless I wasn't sure I want to marry him?" Mulder turned around, a new hope tracing his tone. "You're not sure?" "No." He walked back towards her with some relief, but he knew he couldn't openly express it. Showing relief would imply his feel- ings for her and possibly offend her. He wasn't sure what to do, but it came naturally. Maybe it wasn't the best thing, but it just came; reverse psychology. He asked carefreely, "Why? You've been seeing him for months now and you /do/ want to settle down, don't you?" He sat on the edge of the desk near her. "Yes, I do, but. . ." She sighed and looked at him directly. "What do you think I should do?" Mulder looked back at her and there was a long pause. There was something inside Scully that hoped he would say something that hinted at how he felt about her, but Mulder couldn't bring him- self to answer. He got up abruptly and walked over to the pro- jector again. "I can't answer that for you, Scully." He looked at her, knowing he was losing his cool. He didn't know how else to act, so exas- peration started to push its way to the surface. "You don't need my input. Aren't you sick of me affecting your life already? Go do what you want. Go, get married, leave me here. . ." Scully didn't understand why he was so upset about it. His raised voice surprised her. "But I /want/ your input." She looked at her hands in her lap. "You know, I thought you'd be at least happy for me?" "I. . ." He looked at her. He was afraid he might not be able to control what he was going to say. "I can't be," he admitted. "I can't. . . be happy for you. I mean, just like that? You're gone? Married to. . . what's his name? Drew?" Tears started in Scully's eyes and she blinked, looking back at her hands. She didn't want him to see her cry over his dis- approval. Quietly, she got up and left the office before the tears escaped the bottom lip of her eye. ************** Mulder wanted to step out from the curb, out in front of the truck about to pass in front of him. He needed to feel pain. The numbness hadn't left yet. It had overwhelmed him the moment she told him about Drew's proposal and now the idea of being hit by a truck had a two-fold purpose. One was to feel pain and the other was to punish himself for being so unsupportive of her. He cursed himself. He seemed to do that a lot lately. The truck thundered past. ************** Scully sat on her sofa, the only sounds, central heating and the clock in the kitchen. There was an immense sense of emptiness, a massive void in her. She so desperately wanted Mulder's best wishes but left the basement office with less than what she had when she went in. She closed her eyes and was surprised to feel the warm trickle of a tear skipping down a cheek. She recalled Mulder's face when she had told him the news, but still couldn't grasp what he had been feeling. Then she remembered how she felt when Mulder told her he couldn't be happy for her. What had she been thinking? Or was it more hoping and wishing? Reluctantly, she admitted it to herself. More than wanting his congratulations, Scully wanted Mulder to tell her that he wasn't happy because he didn't want her to go, he didn't want to be alone, he didn't want to lose her. She had made up her mind on the spot in that split second that should he say the words, she would turn Drew down and stay. Suddenly, the phone rang. "Scully." "Scully? It's me," the voice on the other end said. There was a pause as Scully waited for him to continue. "Mulder? What is it?" she finally spoke, trying to sound as though their last conversation had never taken place. "Scully. . ." A sigh echoed in her ear. "I was thinking after you left. I want you to know that I /am/ happy for you, but I guess, I guess I never. . . I was shocked, Scully." He laughed nervously, "You're usually so good with tact! I just. . . I'm sorry about the way I acted. Please know that all my best wishes are with you and Drew." Scully nodded with a half-smile. She was glad that they were back on good terms, but Mulder had just made her decision for her; she was going to accept Drew's proposal. "Scully? Scully, do you accept my apology?" "Yes." She stifled a giggle. She had forgotten they were on the phone and thought a mere nod would suffice. "Good," he said. "I thought you were giving me the silent treat- ment for a while." She smiled. "Thanks for calling me, Mulder. I'm glad you did." Her smile faded as she told him seriously, "You know, I'll really miss you too." "Did I say I was going to miss you?" Scully frowned. Had he? "Didn't you?" "I don't know. I guess I must have. . . Scully, are you doing anything tonight?" "No. . ." "Because I was thinking. . ." he continued. "Do you want to go out for dinner? There's a new restauranty clubby place that opened a week or two ago. I hear it's great. The menu's got everything and their dance floor is apparently ri. . ." "Dance floor?" Scully interrupted. "Yeah. . ." "/Dance/ floor?" Scully asked again. "Yeah. . . Scully, look, if you don't want to dance, that's fine. . ." Mulder started. "Oh, no, I'll. . . I'll dance." She said the last word with care and uncertainty. Mulder laughed. "Really? I was actually hoping you wouldn't so /I/ wouldn't have to." Scully smiled. "Whatever. I'd love to try this new place." "Great. I'll be around in two hours?" he suggested. "Okay, I'll see you then." Scully smiled as she hung up the phone. ************** Halfway through the night, they shared a casual and fun conversa- tion over a light dinner. The band was playing some jazzy soul music that accented the gentle mood of the evening. Mulder and Scully found a break in their conversation and watched the band for a while before another conversation started. "So, Scully. . ." Mulder said, a cheeky tone in his voice. Scully eyed him suspiciously. What was he going to say? Some- thing embarrassing or something that displayed his characteris- tically flippant sense of humor? "What?" she asked carefully. He stared at her, his grin disappearing as seriousness fell over his face. "Nothing," he finally said. "Never mind. I know you're not that kind of a person." "What kind of a person?" Mulder smiled and shook his head, giving her a 'don't ask me and make me offend you' look. Scully persisted. "Come on, Mulder. At the end of a five year working relationship like ours, don't hold out on me now." "No. Forget it." She raised her chin, looking at him down her nose. "Ah. . ." she said. "I know. You're wondering. . . you're wondering if I in- tend on cheating on Drew one last time before we get married." Mulder broke out into a grin. "No. . ." "Then what?" "It doesn't matter anymore. This is much juicier. So. . ." he raised his eyebrows. "Are you? Intending to have a fling, that is." "Honestly?" Mulder nodded. "Well. . ." She shifted in her seat. Under previous circum- stances, this would've been a no-go area for her. But from to- night, it was different. "I was considering it." "Really." There was doubt in his voice. "Yes. You don't believe me?" Mulder raised his hands in apologetic defense. "Oh no, I believe you. I mean, after-all, you /are/ the one who got the tattoo on the back. That's pretty impulsive." He paused and fiddled with the glass in front of him. "Why did you get that done anyway?" Scully shrugged as she watched his fingers play over the rim. "I don't know. It seemed right at the time." Suddenly, she laughed. "Well, everything seems right after you've had something to drink." She stopped, regretting she had added that. She was glad when Mulder chose to ignore it for her sake. "That guy Jerse was with you?" It sounded more like a statement than a question. Scully was surprised to hear a hint of jealousy in his tone, especially after so long since the incident. "Yeah. . ." She changed the subject back to the tattoo. "The ouroboros is a symbol of recurring destruction and creation. I guess that's how I felt my life was then." "Not now, though, huh?" "No, not now." "Your life is becoming a nice straight line." She nodded, and suddenly, there was nothing for either of them to say. They both seemed to sense it, and let the pause turn into a long silence; a comfortable silence as they drifted into their own respective thoughts. A nice straight line. Straight, definite and sure. Yes. That's what she always wanted her life to be. Something that had a secure future, something she could look forward to. No more ad- ventures, challenges. . . Did she really want to be rid of those things? Scully thought. She loved her job. Was she really willing to give up her job for love? Yes. Of course. But why was she suddenly having doubts about her decision? /Was/ it love? Was she willing to leave everything important to her; her job, Mulder, to marry someone she wasn't even sure she truly loved? She didn't know. She enjoyed being with Drew. But then, she enjoyed being with Mulder, too. She could never confide some things in Drew, but she could in Mulder. She wasn't afraid to let him know she was afraid or angry. Sure, she didn't like to admit it, but she knew Mulder knew and that seemed to be fine with both of them. . . Why was she comparing Mulder and Drew? Mulder was her best friend, that explained everything. Almost. "Mulder, what's going to happen to you after I leave?" Her question was sincere. "I'm going to die of heartbreak," he joked. Then seriously, "I'll probably get a new partner who'll do a better job than you did." Scully cocked her head to one side, prompting an explanation. "Oh, come on, Scully. You were terrible! You were assigned to spy on me and ended up taking my side instead!" She smiled. He continued, speaking softly, "I could never figure out why you did. I don't think I've ever thanked you for. . . for being the one who believed me." "I never believed you, Mulder," she smiled. "I just saw that what you were doing was justified. . . until I was pulled into your trap and couldn't get out even if what you did wasn't justifiable." "Well, thank you for falling into my trap." There was another pause as they sat, just smiling at each other. Then Scully asked on an impulse, "Dance?' Mulder raised his brows, surprised. "I didn't know it was the lady's choice tonight." They stood up and walked out to the dance floor. Scully hadn't noticed before she asked for a dance that the floor was nearly empty, only three or four couples were dancing. She felt a little self-conscious, but Mulder seemed fine. He took both of her hands and placed one on his shoulder, the same hand snaking around her waist after. He pulled her close so that her head rested against his chest, and took their clasped hands to his chest as well. The song changed. "Oh, I love this song," Mulder murmured into her hair. Scully hadn't noticed the change in music. She was lost. It was like she was in a bed between cool satin sheets on a chilly morn- ing. Luxury. Indulgence. She was in the arms of a wonderful man who cared for her and knew her better than she knew herself. They were dancing and he was singing her the words. She felt her hands leave his shoulder and hold, sliding around him, up, until her fingers were splayed against his shoulder blades. And she felt his hand join the other on her back. It felt so good to hold her. She seemed to fit perfectly against him, but that sadness washed over him again as he reluctantly remembered this time with her would be his last. Mulder needed to know what she thought about her relationship with him before he would never have the chance to ask. "Scully? A few minutes ago when we were talking. . . if you were serious about having a final fling with someone. . . would you consider that someone to be me?" She lifted her head off his chest and looked back at him in sur- prise. If Mulder could drown it would be there. He swallowed. The question had been more of an innuendo than he had wanted. "Hypothetically, I mean," he added. Then she smiled. "I /was/ serious and. . . you were my only con- sideration." Mulder was speechless. Was she joking? Because he hadn't been. "I was serious," he told her. "So was I." What was he meant to say now? He found himself wishing something could break the moment. And it did. The music changed again, this time to something very upbeat, a mambo. People flooded to the dance floor and started dancing. Scully clung onto Mulder as he held her, protecting her from the influx of enthusiastic dancers. They stood there, still swaying slowly, amused at the sudden change. Suddenly, Mulder pulled away from her, holding her hands and asked, "Mambo?" "Oh, Mulder. No. . ." She shook her head, knowing this was go- ing to be incredibly embarrassing. But he ignored her and start- ed moving his feet. Scully burst out laughing; she had never -- never -- imagined Mulder dancing a mambo. He grinned. "Come on." Then he pulled her close and led her through a simple dance step sequence. And they danced! They were smiling at each other throughout the song and if they weren't smiling, they were giggling. But they danced! They danced until the song ended, absolutely relishing the fun and spontaneity of it. When the last note was finally brassed out by the trumpet, everyone applauded the band. Mulder and Scully looked at each other and laughed. She placed her head on his shoulder and smiled against his neck, listening to his soft chuckles against her cheek. "Oh, Mulder. I'm sorry," Scully patted down a part of his collar. "What?" Mulder tucked his chin and pulled at the collar to see what she was apologizing for. He saw a faint smudge tarnishing his perfect white shirt. "Scully, I have your lipstick on my collar," he said purposely with a smile. She smiled back and led him by the hand back to their table as the rest on the dance floor continued dancing to the cha cha the band was now playing. ************** "It's getting late," Mulder said as he glanced at his watch. "I think I'd better be dropping you home soon. Just say when." He didn't want to leave; tonight was easily the best time they had had together. But it /was/ late, and he knew that their long day was starting to catch up with her. She sighed. "I don't want to go just yet, but. . ." She looked at him with her brows raised and her lips pressed together. " 'When'?" She nodded. "Okay." Mulder pulled out his wallet and left a tip on their table. All through the car trip back to Scully's apartment, Mulder thought. He thought so much he made himself nervous. Now they were on her street and his palms were sweating. He could feel his heart trying to pump its way out of his chest and a ticklish trail of sweat starting in his hair. He should tell her. He should. Tell her how he feels, how after tonight he realized he couldn't be without her, tell her to stay. Ask her to stay. That was it. Mulder never asked, never told her what he felt. But then, he never really realized until tonight. Why the hell didn't he before? He thought of the times he thought he might have felt something for her. There were many occasions, but he always seemed to find an excuse to discard those feelings; she's Scully, it could never work out, he's too involved with his work, she's too involved with hers, he's not good enough for her. . . Push it to the back of his mind. It was the perfect time to tell her now; he was sure of his feel- ings and they had just come from a wonderful dinner together. Or was it the worst time? Everything was just great between them now and would what he was intending to tell her going to ruin that? He had to decide what he was going to do fast. They were at her door. "Thanks for tonight, Mulder. I had a great time," she told him as she unlocked her door. "Me too. Good night, Scully." "Good night." Then she shut the door, leaving him outside, want- ing to hit his head against the wall repeatedly. The only thing stopping him was the fact that she would hear him. "Fuck," he spat out under a breath. Mulder stood there, outside her door, looking at his shoes and cursing himself for being such a coward. Suddenly, the door swung open and Scully bounded out blindly, calling, "Mulder!" She ran right into him and he caught her. "Oh." She looked up at him. "I was about to call you. . . Why are you still here?" Mulder shrugged. He really didn't know. "Why did you want to call me?" he asked, unaware that he was still holding her after she had run into him. She shrugged. "I don't know. . . I guess it just felt strange to wish each other good night without talking a little more. . ." She trailed off, knowing that what she was saying was adding noise to a moment that didn't need it. ************** end of The Fork (1/2) ************** ************** THE FORK (2/2) ************** For a long time, she stood in his arms and looked at him as he looked back at her. They just stood there in the hallway of her apartment building, studying each other's eyes and hair and lips, not caring of the time or of their tiredness, simply standing, looking. "Mulder," she whispered from the blue, breaking the silence. "I want you to spend the night with me." Mulder analyzed her face for seriousness even though he knew it wasn't a joke. He was more wondering if she had actually said what he had thought he heard. She looked at him, waiting for an answer. There was nothing he could think of saying, so he leant forward to answer her with a kiss. His tongue worked on her lips first as he gently pressed against them, then slipped in between and pryed them open; they gave readily. Soon, it was like he couldn't get enough of the kiss, as if every part of him had to be part of it. He held her against him, gent- ly thrusting his hips and moving against her as their tongues battled between their lips. Her hands moved up to his shoulders and she used them to help her up, closer to his mouth. She pulled down on the muscles under his coat, trying to climb on top of his arousal. He helped her. She drew her leg up onto his hip, moving with him, feeling the bulge between her thighs. Then they broke apart, not taking their eyes off one another as they headed into the privacy of her apartment. Inside, they kissed again and began undressing each other. "Scully, are you sure you want to do this?" Mulder breathed. "I've thought a lot about it," she answered. He smiled. "Tried to imagine the consequences," she continued. He bent down to kiss her neck as he undid the hook of her bra. "Are the consequences favorable?" he asked against her skin. "Yes, but I spent more time thinking about what causes the conse- quences," she whispered, her eyes closed as she reveled in his touch. His hands slowly moved to cup her breasts, his thumbs lightly rubbing her already hardened tips so that she gasped and whimper- ed. "Tell me," he mumbled. His lips moved back up to hers and between kisses, she asked, "What?" "About the cause of. . . the consequence. . ." "The fling. . .?" "Mmm hmm. . ." "Started like this. . . kissing like this. . . passionately. . . fiercely. . ." She kissed him back with all the urgency she felt. She needed him and let him know it. She ended the kiss and led him by the hand towards her bedroom. "Then we went into my room. . ." He lay her on the mattress and nuzzled her neck. Her eyes were closed, just enjoying the sensation of his tongue on her neck. "Then you touched me," she whispered. Mulder stopped and looked at her, her eyes still shut. He sat up and obliged, slipping a long index under the fabric of her under- wear and between the warm slick folds of her. He felt her stiff- en slightly as the pad of his finger rubbed against her nub. He ventured deeper, feeling the thick wetness and heat clutching at his finger as it flicked, burrowing further into her. Then he withdrew slowly, the finger sliding its length over her clitoris, and she gasped. He pushed it deeper again, withdrew again, getting the same response. He continued and she grunted, thrusting her hips slightly to encourage him deeper. Touching her, watching her, listening to her, Mulder grew more impatient to feed and finally satisfy his own urges. He removed their last items of clothing and parted her legs. Scully watched as he knelt between her knees and slowly lowered himself. She received his kisses, the desperation in them in- creasing as he moved rhythmically against her, the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance. He looked at her and whispered, his voice husky and breathless, "And then? What happened?" "And then. . ." she echoed. "And then. . ." She grunted as Mulder slid into her and stopped. He wanted to be so deep inside he'd get lost and slowly didn't do it. He withdrew a little and thrust hard the next time. Scully grunted, her head tossed back against the pillow. He moved de- liberately, trying to make it last as long as he could. For a moment, it felt like he could do it, but then there was fire where they joined and his thrusts came harder and faster. "Mulder. . ." He sped up to keep with her needs. He levered himself with his arms to go deeper. He could feel her on the edge and when the time came, he knew the next thrust would push her over, so he made it an achingly slow but firm one. She cried out, her orgasm extended. Mulder could feel her muscles pulsating and thrust twice again, sending her over one more time before joining her. ************** Scully woke up, wonderfully drowsy with sleep and content. For a moment, she wasn't sure where she was or what time it was. Her eyes fluttered open, and she squinted, waiting for the world to come into focus. And there he was. Her initial reaction was horror, shock. What the hell was he doing here? And then she remembered. She became aware of her senses; the musky smell against her, the hair rubbing against her smooth leg, his deep, steady breathing as he slept. She had never noticed how long his eyelashes were. They fell gently on his skin and she watched them quiver once in a while as his eyes moved underneath the lids. She was curled close to him, facing him, but not entirely in the spread of his arm, so she snuggled a little closer, placing her head on his chest. He stirred and she pretended to sleep. Mulder squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them as he woke. He could feel the warmth of a small body against him and he smiled, knowing who it was. He couldn't believe they had actual- ly shared something so wonderful, so personal, so intimate. The night was definitely going to change their relationship, or at least the way they looked at each other. He hummed peacefully and saw her eyes open. "Good morning," he whispered. She smiled and adjusted her position so that she lay right on top of him, her breasts pressed against his chest and her arms digg- ing underneath him. His hands slid over her back underneath the covers and came to a stop under her buttocks. Then he shifted a little so that his morning erection fell right between her thighs. He closed his eyes as she methodically rolled her hips against him. For a few minutes they enjoyed the lazy feeling in half sleep, knowing that in a few minutes more it would turn into something as heated as the last night. But then the doorbell rang. Scully froze. She lifted her head off his chest and paused. Did she really hear the doorbell? The doorbell rang again. "Oh shit, Mulder," she cursed under a breath. Still half asleep, Mulder mumbled, wanting her to continue with what she had been doing. "What? Don't answer and they'll go away." She rolled off him and got up, reaching for her bathrobe. "No, no. I think it's Drew. He has a key. Stay here and don't make a noise." Before she reached the bedroom door, Mulder demanded a kiss by blocking her way. She complied, giving him a brief peck and then opened the door with a smile that wasn't able to hide the worry on her face. Scully walked across her lounge room and saw the mess of clothes she and Mulder had left. She quickly gathered them up and bound- ed to her bedroom again, tossing them in to Mulder and closing the door. Then she went back to the front door and looked through the peep hole. A man stood out there in a clean suit, waiting patiently for her to answer the door. She opened it. "Good morning, Miss Scully. Sorry to disturb you. I just came to deliver your dry cleaning," he said. Scully smiled with relief at the bundle of hanged clothes he was carrying with him. "Thanks," she said as she took them off his hands. "Thank you, ma'am. Have a nice day." Then he was gone. Scully laughed almost nervously as she locked the door. She lay the clothes on the couch and went back to Mulder. "Who was it?" Mulder asked. "Not Drew, I'm assuming." "No, it was the dry cleaners. But Drew is going to be here in less than an hour and he's always early. I think you'd better start leaving." Mulder nodded. He had already put on his boxers and pants and now reached for his shirt. There was a silence as he slowly dressed, thinking about something. "You know," he started. "We really should talk about this. . ." "I know." He looked at her and realized it probably wasn't the best time. She looked a little edgy. He grabbed his jacket from the bed and forced a smile. He really wanted to talk about it now. "I guess we'll have to talk later. I'll ring you tonight, okay?" "Okay." Mulder walked towards her and kissed her before he let himself out. He was a little hurt when she didn't kiss him back, but hid it. ************** Scully watched from her window as Mulder's car pulled away from the curb. She felt horrible. Engaged to one man, in love with another. But she could never be sure Mulder really loved her back if he never told her. Sex was sex, not love, and their re- lationship was friendship, nothing more. There was chemistry, for sure, but without some kind of admittance, it was simply friendship; an irritatingly tense with sexual attraction friend- ship. She needed advice. Without much hesitation, she dialed a number she knew by heart. "Hello?" "Hi, Ellen? It's Dana." Ellen was one of Scully's closest friends. She was the person Scully went to if her problem wasn't professional and if she felt it was too personal to share with her mother or Mulder. "Dana! Hi! Or should I say the future Mrs Garner?" "Actually, I haven't answered yet. Besides I was hoping to keep my last name." Scully decided to jump the gun. "Ell, have you got a few minutes?" Ellen heard the resigned sigh and grew concerned. "Sure. What do you want to talk about? Is anything wrong?" Scully leant into the handset, squinting and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I have a problem." She sank onto the couch. "What do you think of Drew?" "Drew? Well, I've only met him once and all times he's been polite and a perfect gentleman." Ellen paused. "I don't know what you're really asking, Dana," she said apologetically. "I'm sorry. . . " She tried to gather her thoughts and arrange them into a more concise manner. "Do you think I'd be happy with him? I mean, it's the rest of my life with him and. . . I can't see. . . I don't know. Is this normal?" "I can't tell you if you'd be happy with him. That's something you have to decide for yourself. You have to be able to feel it. If you honestly cannot see the two of you together in the future, maybe you should. . ." "What?" Ellen sighed. "What happened? Did you just all of a sudden realize this or what?" Scully wanted to bring Mulder up, but she wasn't sure how to; not without blurting it out. "Ell? You remember Mulder, my partner?" "Of course I do. You mention him at least once every time we talk." "Do I?" "You never fail. . . What about him?" There was silence as Scully thought of what to say. But Ellen beat her to it. "Oh, Dana. . . you've finally realized you're in love with him, haven't you?" Scully was dumbfounded. Ellen had never met Mulder or seen her with him. "What do you mean 'finally'?" she asked. "I had been waiting for you to tell me how you feel about him, but you never did. You would tell me all the wonderful and funny things this guy Mulder has said and done like a high school junior in love with a senior. It was so obvious to me how you felt, but I always got the impression that you yourself didn't know!" Ellen smiled a smile of satisfaction. For years she had wondered when Dana would realize. Scully laughed, partly nervous, partly relieved and partly shock- ed. "So I guess you know my predicament now, then." "Give me a crack at it. You're engaged to Drew, an arrangement that could save your social life once and for all so you can finally settle down like you've always wanted, but you're not sure if he's the one. You're in love with your partner, Mulder, but you don't know if he loves you. So. . . if you marry Drew, you'll marry someone you're not in love with and could be unhappy for the rest of your life, or if you don't marry him, you could end up in love with someone who doesn't love you and be unhappy for the rest of your life. . ." Ellen paused. "Did I get that all?" "Yeah. . . and thanks for making it seem so optimistic," Scully smiled glumly. "Oh God, Ell. What am I going to do?" "I don't know, Dana." "What would you do?" "I'm not you and you're not me, but. . . I would find out if Mul- der loves me. I think that's the fork in the road. If he doesn't, then I'd move on; I'd marry Drew. If he does, then, I don't know." "If he does, what then? I mean, we work together. We can't. . ." "Dana, just find out how Mulder feels and decide from there." Scully nodded. "Right. Thanks so much, Ell. I couldn't have made a decision without your help." "Good luck, Dana. Remember, it's a decision for the feelings." "Thanks again. Bye, Ell." And then they hung up the phone. So that was it, thought Scully. Find out what Mulder feels. Her heart was pounding with fear. What if his feelings weren't the same? What if they were? She looked at the time. Drew would come by shortly. She didn't want to see him. She knew she would probably blurt out that she was in love with someone else and didn't want to marry him. It would break Drew and he didn't deserve it. And it wasn't as if she knew for sure that Mulder loved her. She might want to marry Drew if her feelings for Mulder remained unrequited. Scully ran into her room to slip on some warm clothes. It looked like it was going to rain and she wanted to go over to Mulder's and talk right then. ************** There was a knock on Mulder's door. It hadn't been long since he had arrived; he had been sitting on the couch for the most time, thinking. He got up and opened the door to see Scully standing out there in the hallway. "Scully. . . what are you doing here?" He held the door open for her to come in. "I needed to talk, that's all. Now." Mulder nodded and shut the door behind him. He took a seat on the couch next to Scully and looked at her with concern. "Where do you want to start?" Scully took a deep breath. She wasn't sure how she was going to go about it. "Mulder. . . I know you've already told me that you don't want to help me decide if I should marry Drew or not, but I really need to know what you think. You're one of the closest friends I have and I want you to be involved in this de- cision." Mulder looked down and left a small silence before he spoke. "You're deciding already?" "No. I just need to know what you think." "I think. . . I think that what I think should hold little value, but. . . if I'm going to say anything to you, I'd tell you that you should go for it. It's a good chance for you to settle down. You deserve someone." Mulder hated saying it. But he knew it was the best for her. If she loved him, then why not marry him? He knew he couldn't have said what he really wanted to. If his unhappiness was the price to pay for her happiness, then he would pay up. Tears started in Scully's eyes again, and she did her best to keep them from falling. She reached for a hug and Mulder gave it to her. He could already feel an emptiness swallowing him when they started to pull away from each other. Scully got up and headed for the door. "Thank you, Mulder." She gave him a brave smile and left. ************** Sitting alone in a park not far from Mulder's apartment, Scully thought. An odd number of tears fell onto her lap as she sniff- led. If he really loved her, wanted her, he would've said something. But he didn't. Instead, he encouraged her to leave. She was confused. She hadn't been entirely sure, but sure enough, that he would ask her to stay, say something against marrying Drew. Nothing. So that was it. She would marry Drew; someone who loved her and could give her stability and a life she could love. No. She couldn't marry him if she didn't love him. It was true. She would be unhappy and she would be dishonest to Drew. That left her back in the X-Files, living as though she never had to make the choice, only with one thing different; she would know how Mulder didn't feel. And then it started to shower. The rain could hide her tears. ************** Mulder pressed his forehead against the pane of his window, watching as Scully left his building. When she was out of sight, he looked at the floor glumly and sat on the coffee table, hold- ing his head in his hands. In the corner of his eye, he saw his basketball tucked out of the way against the wall. He stood up and reached for it, bouncing it hard against the floor to feel some kind of relief. Just under the noise the ball was making, Mulder heard taps com- ing from the floor. He stopped to listen and heard more taps. Then he heard his neighbor underneath him, yelling for him to shut up. Mulder bounced the ball harder and faster just to spite the com- plaint then angrily threw the basketball against the leather couch, hearing it slap on contact. Just then, the phone rang. He let the machine pick up. "This is Fox Mulder, leave a message please." An unfamiliar voice spoke. "You have to tell her how you feel. If you understand me, then you know what I'm about. . ." Mulder grabbed the receiver. "Hello? Who is this?" But the person had already hung up after the short message. He slowly replaced the handset. What the hell was that? he wondered. Who was that? Somehow he knew it didn't matter. Whoever it was, knew. And whoever it was, was right. Mulder raced down the corridor to the elevator. Going down. ************** "Maybe I shouldn't have done that." "What?" "Never mind," Ellen answered, shaking her head to forget it. ************** As she sat in the park, her hair starting to straighten and dark- en with the rain, Scully pulled out her ID wallet from her trench- coat. She flipped it open and looked at it, sighing heavily. Then she placed it on the bench beside her and pulled out an en- velope from the same pocket. Her resignation. Standing up, she walked over to the edge of the small flurry of water in the pond and fingered the envelope gingerly. She thought of Mulder. Would his response have been the same if she had told him how she felt? ************** Mulder didn't know where Scully went. To her apartment? To work? To Drew? He had no clue where she would be at the moment. But he drove. He drove in the direction that he felt she might've gone. And then he saw her. A small lone figure in the park, leaning against a lamp post by the pond. He parked hastily by the curb but slowed down once he was out of the car. He needed to buy a little time to think over what he was going to say. As he approached, he glimpsed her ID wallet on the bench. He stopped and picked it up, blinking against the rain, his bangs sticking to his forehead. He let his fingertips stroke her photograph as though it was the only thing he had left of her. Then he walked towards her, holding the ID wallet in his hands. "You shouldn't leave this lying around anywhere," he said, offer- ing her the wallet. Scully spun around, surprised to hear his voice. "Mulder. . ." She looked at what was in his hands and took it from him, her hand lingering as her fingers touched his. "I know. It won't happen again," she attempted a smile. Mulder saw the envelope addressed to Skinner and knew what it was. He decided to ignore it. She hadn't mailed it yet. "Scully, I need to tell you something." He took both her hands. "I don't know how you feel about me, but if telling you how I feel by some chance will make you stay here with me, then that's what I'm saying." Scully looked at him, studying the desperation in his eyes. "I love you, Scully," he whispered. She continued looking in his eyes. If his words had struck a chord, it wasn't obvious. But she kissed him, the ache in both of them relieved. She didn't know if she was crying, but that was the least of her cares. Mulder loved her and it was all she held. Her arms were around his collar, her hands, still clutching both the wallet and her resignation. As she adjusted her embrace, the envelope slipped from her slick fingers and fluttered down to the rain soaked lawn where it absorbed each drop that landed on it. The type ran and faded, colored water trickling onto the blades of grass. It was the least of their worries. ************** EPILOGUE ************** A small redheaded woman kissed the tall man holding her protect- ively, his arms around her as though she would dissolve in air if he ever let go. Her hold on him was the same. They seemed per- fectly comfortable despite the cold air and their wet clothes; they were obviously unconcerned about anything and everything but each other. >From the distance, it was hard to tell what expression lay on their faces, but anyone watching knew it was one of a fulfilled longing both had endured too long, a yearning they never thought would would be complete. A person passing by would feel a satisfaction and a happiness for the couple. It was the same for Drew, but a deep hurt and sad- ness shadowed over as he drove by to leave them there. ************** end of The Fork (2/2) comments to author, shabby chic ************** ______________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com