Title: At the Breaking
Author: Deenalynn
Author's E-mail: [email protected]
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Spoilers: Tiny ones for Tooms, Two Fathers/One Son and the Pilot, and a small one for my story, Nonnegotiable. It assumes knowledge through season six.
Category: VR
Rating: P.G.
Summary: Early morning musings.
Archive: Yes
Feedback: Yes please!
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Broadcasting, I am none of the above.
Please visit my other stories at Deenalynn's Fanfic Corner. http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Quasar/5783/index.html
Just a little accompaniment for my story, My Lover, from the Lovers POV
At the Breaking
By Deenalynn
I can see the world changing colour through the slats of the blinds. Morning has always been my favourite part of the
day. I love the freshness and peace found only at dawn. I now have another reason to greet each day with a smile, the man
sleeping peacefully behind me. Or should I say around me? His chest is pressed tightly against my back, so I can feel its
every rise and fall. His head is close to mine on the pillow, his face buried in my hair, his breath puffs soft and warm against
my cheek. One arm is bent beneath us and acts as my pillow, the other around my waist, his hand clutches mine beneath my
breasts. His legs follow mine down the bed, my feet tangle with his shins. His hold on me is firm, but not tight, giving me
room to move if I should so choose. I don't. While someone else might feel claustrophobic, I feel cherished.
It is amazing to me that we are here. I had begun to think that this was a place we would never achieve. We certainly
took the scenic route. For all the trials and tribulations and general bullshit we have endured together, I have discovered one
important fact: this man makes me happy like no one else ever has. Sure, there are times when I could cheerfully kill him
with my bare hands. He has even made me honestly hate him at times. This has never changed how much I love him.
My mother told me not long ago that there were times in her long and happy marriage to my father that she could actually
*feel* her hands around his throat, he would make her so angry. I was absurdly relieved by this information. He murmurs
something in his sleep, his hold on me tightening briefly then relaxing once again. He is such a good man. For all his
personality . . . quirks, he is at his core a kind and gentle soul. He has a wicked sense of humour which he can wield like a
rapier or wear like a suit of armour. His verbal sparring puts many off. Sensitive, with an easily-bruised ego, he hides behind
his intelligence and wit, often seeming cocky and impervious to insult. But what others may see as arrogance and disdain, I
see for what it truly is. Self-preservation.
He is brave to the point of foolhardy, after all, how many people can say that the one they love would go to the ends of
the earth for them, and mean it, literally. I can. So can he.
He is passionate, about work, about the Truth, and about me, not necessarily in that order. At first that passion
frightened me, I found it somewhat overwhelming to have it directed my way. More recently I've come to depend on it,
deriving strength from it.
He can be stubborn and narrow minded. Something we have in common. This has been the source of some of our
greatest clashes, but it has also saved us, time and again.
A while back he told me that my place in his life was nonnegotiable, then he promised me that eventually we would have
a normal life. Last night he told me he was sick of waiting for eventually and wanted that life to begin now. I told you he
was brave. We spent the evening talking about firsts, the first time I realised I was attracted to him, I believe the word
involved was hello. The first time I truly trusted him, it never really occurred to me not to. How's that for naive? When he
knew for sure I trusted him, oddly enough it didn't involve me going to his hotel room and dropping my robe on our first
case together. He said he knew I trusted him completely the first time I fell asleep in the car on a stakeout. At first it made
no sense to me, but after thinking about it, it really does. We are never so vulnerable as when we are asleep, by allowing
myself to fall asleep alone with him I was entrusting myself to him.
He talked about his childhood, before and after his sister's disappearance. Before, they were the picture of happy family
togetherness, an affectionate and attentive mother, an interested and loving father, two happy well-adjusted children, all
living in a small close knit community. And After. After a child is killed or goes missing, often the family is unable to
withstand the pain and marriages will fall apart. I can't imagine that the Mulders had any chance at survival considering Bill
Mulder's involvement in the situation. He talked about how, once he began looking into his sister's case as an adult, his
father had become openly hostile and had begun to lay the blame at his feet. Where there had simply been distance, there
was now anger and pain and guilt. I thank God for the time before, for it was during this time of
happiness and love that the man I have come to love was molded.
We talked about work and how things are going to change, we concluded that they probably wouldn't. After all we have
loved each other for a very long time. We are both professional and very committed to the work we do. While our personal
feelings have interfered with our work in the past, it has been infrequent and I cannot see that changing. We discussed how
to tell everyone about US and came to the conclusion that the only people we were actually going to tell were our close
friends and family and our boss. Let the rest of them figure it out on their own.
My mother will ask me if I am happy and I will tell her I that I am. Very. That will be enough for her. My older brother
Bill will pitch a fit worthy of a three-year-old, which I will ignore. My younger brother Charles will smirk and say it's about
time. His eight-year-old daughter, Abby, will be crushed. She decided several years ago that *she* was going to marry
Mulder when she got *big* and he was just going to have wait for her. Her four big brothers will be thrilled that their
favourite playmate will now be at all family gatherings. My girlfriend Kathy will be delighted. She has always thought we
were a bit ridiculous to put off the inevitable. Ellen will laugh and happily say 'I told you so'.
As for Mulder's friends, he basically wants to tell the Lonegunmen. A meeting I wouldn't miss for the world, from
Langley's obligatory congratulations, to Byers' heartfelt and gentlemanly good wishes, to Frohicke's exuberant and genuine
joy, I truly look forward to telling them. Skinner, well, he knows better than anyone the tough road we have followed to get
to where we are now. He will be happy for us even as he warns us to watch ourselves.
We talked about past loves and cleared the air on several issues that had caused strain in the past and in the present. He
told me how desperately he had needed to believe that someone he had loved would never betray him as I had suggested.
He apoligised, again, for making me feel less than important to him and told me that no matter what I should never
underestimate how vital I am to his life.
He told me last night that I have made him truly happy. This made me feel better than any flowery declarations ever
could. I have made another person happy, and that person is the man I love. It doesn't get any better than that.
I realised something last night as we sat on my couch talking, I *like* this man, and he *likes* me. We enjoy one
another's company. We can spend time together just being together. We are very comfortable with each other and find no
need for pretense. That is a wonderfully liberating feeling. Who I am is good enough, he expects no more from me. The
things about me that frustrate him the most, are the things he most appreciates. That is something I have never found with
anyone. I like it.
One thing we didn't discuss last night that we will have to talk about, soon, is names. Despite the fact that I fell in love
with him as Mulder, I absolutely refuse to call my lover by his last name, it's just ridiculous. I have no idea what his reaction
to that is going to be. After all, it has been almost seven years since the last time I tried to call him Fox. Though now, he has
no reason to try to distance himself from me. Starting this morning, away from the office, he *will* call me Dana.
Once again he shifts slightly, moving the arm beneath my head so that it too is wrapped around me. I feel his breathing
hitch as he wakes and realises where he is. I really can feel the smile on his face as he whispers a sweet good morning in my
ear and kisses me gently. I have never felt anything quite like what I feel now, lying wrapped in this man's arms, watching
the dawn break, and knowing that this is just the beginning.
The End