This part is dedicated to Agent Sabine.  Thanks, girlfriend, I had the strength of your beliefs!

US 2/ THIS TIME I BELIEVE  02/05
By: Jennifer Maurer

"So, you know how people are
When it's all gone much too far
The way their minds are made
Still, there's something you should know
That I could not let show
That fear of letting go
This old familiar craving
I've been here before, this way of behaving
Don't know who the hell I'm saving anymore
Let it pass let it go let it leave
From the deepest place I grieve
This time I believe...
And in this moment
I need to be needed
With this darkness all around me
I like to be liked
In this emptiness and fear
I want to be wanted
Cos I love to be loved
I love to be loved"
     ---Peter Gabriel, "Love to Be Loved"

Normal.  Funny how a small word like that could brings the walls crashing back down between Scully and myself.  "We can't even make out like normal people," she'd said with a grin.  It *was* kind of funny, her sliding into the sink like that, but my defenses came up and wouldn't let the humor in.  Despite all the protests of my lonely heart, my mind had shut down and offered her a lift home.  Talk about your smooth segue-ways: one minute we're sucking face (and what lovely face it was), the next I'm shoving her into the car.  I knew she was hurt and perplexed, but I just didn't have it in me to try and articulate what I was feeling.

All during the ride back to her apartment, I could feel her turn and look at me every once in awhile.  The silence was oppressive.  Once I heard her take a deep breath, as though she wanted to say something, and my hand automatically reached out and cranked up the radio.  Alanis Morissette wailed at us:

"I don't want to be the filler if the void is solely yours/I don't want to be your glass of single malt whiskey hidden in the bottom drawer/I don't want to be a bandage if the wound is not mine/Lend me some fresh air."

<Fresh air, *that's* what Scully needs, not my moldy basement atmosphere.>  She sighed sharply and turned her face completely away from me, as if she had read that thought.  I couldn't look at her again for the rest of the ride.  If I had turned to her, I knew I would have grabbed her and never let her go.  Every atom in my body was digging in its heels and shrieking "Noooooo! Don't let her get out of the car without telling her how you feel about her!" I'd never had to struggle against such strong instincts before, not that I often did.  We pulled up in front of her building.  She shoved the door open and hopped out, then turned to me, her cool professional mask back in place.

"Thank you, Mulder," she said quietly.

I nodded.  "Not a problem.  See you tomorrow."

She paused, then nodded back and shut the door gently.  I think I would have felt better if she'd slammed it.  I *had* ditched her rather abruptly.  I hoped she would be okay.  I hesitated, about to roll down the window and call out to her, but she ran up the steps and disappeared inside before I could work up the nerve.  Well, she'd probably tell me she was fine anyway, as usual.

I turned the radio even louder on my way home, wanting the sound to block out my restless thoughts.

"You see it's too much to ask for and I am not the doctor..."

I snapped it off so viciously the knob came off in my hand.  <Cheap piece of shit> I snarled to myself, wondering if I was actually referring to the radio or myself.

My apartment had all the cheerfulness of a broom closet without Scully's presence.  I paced back and forth, running the scene over and over in my mind.

<We can't even make out like normal people.>  Damn eidetic memory.

<Whatsa matter, Spooky? Can't take a joke?> a voice taunted in my head.  The voices of all the agents who'd ridiculed me over the years.  Which was pretty much all the agents I knew...except for Scully.  She had only been teasing me, and I knew it.  Yet I'd overreacted like some jilted teenager, getting rid of her before she could say anything else to hurt me. Her remark, for all the affection in it, *had* hurt me.  Because I knew it was the truth.

I hadn't been a normal person since Samantha's abduction.  I'd accepted this long ago and learned to deal with it, even enjoyed it in a perverse way.  I had never been your average agent, but I knew the X-Files had really put me out in left field, reputation-wise.  I still remember Scully's disconcertion that first day we'd met, when I'd leaned in and asked her if she believed in extra-terrestrials.  Being known as "Spooky" Mulder didn't always bother me.  Only at certain times.  Like now...

How did normal people kiss, anyway?  <Stop nit-picking, Mulder, you know that's not what she meant.  It was funny.  She got soaked in the sink while you were making out, that's funny.  *Normal* people would laugh at that.>  I uttered a short laugh that was more of a bark and paced faster.  I had already put Scully through so much professionally.  Was I prepared to wreak havoc on her personal life as well?

<Maybe it could work> teased a voice in my head.  <You trust each other, you care about each other...maybe it could work.>  Scully *was* the only one I trusted, I knew that without a doubt.  I did care for her, considered her the best friend I had.  Did I love her?  My mind spun, refusing to settle down long enough to entertain that thought completely.  I strongly suspected I did.  When I'd heard her voice over the phone last night, shaking with fear, my heart had stopped.   My mind screamed <NOT AGAIN!>  When she asked me to come get her, auto-pilot took over, all I could think about was getting to her in time, before the bastards took her away from me again.  There had already been one close call that day, I couldn't push my luck again.  My relief when I'd found her unharmed had surprised me a little.

I had been somewhat startled by her tears.  I had only seen Scully cry once before, during the Pfaster investigation, smothered whimpers into my shirt.  Last night's wild sobs had thrown me, but I realized even Scully's bound to lose her composure once in her career.  I had been secretly complimenting myself on comforting her when she'd dropped that bombshell about half-wishing she could lose her mind to escape her pain.  <My God, I've turned her into me> was the thought that filled my frozen mind.  <I've made Scully into an eccentric, miserable loner.>  I'd stopped worrying about that when we kissed, like any two people <lovers!> would.  I'd trod this ground carefully, wondering if she'd respond in kind or slap me.  Her kisses had been all I'd fantasized about, and more.  I'd never paid much attention to her "Ice Queen" reputation.  At first I'd thought <It's always the quiet ones that have a secret wild side.>  Later, as we became closer, I discovered that despite her cool exterior, Scully really did have a warm and gentle heart.

Watching her sleep had been a rare treat, something I usually only enjoyed in snatches on stakeouts.  I'd leave the room, putter around my apartment, try to work on my computer---yet I was always drawn back to my bedroom, watching Scully sleep.  Her red hair fanned out on my pillow, where no woman had slept for so long <Watch it, Mulder, dangerous territory ahead>.  I reached my hand out and then drew back half a dozen times, wanting to touch her hair.  Finally I took a lock between my thumb and forefinger and rubbed them together.  Soft.  I got more daring and combed my fingers through the bright strands.  Her sweet scent drifted up to me and I inhaled, smiling.  Pretty.  I remembered that plane we'd found on the bottom of the ocean, named "Drop Dead Red."  I'd teased Scully about that for weeks: I'd call her "Red" and she'd pretend to glare at me and growl "Drop dead."  We had laughed about it.  After the scare last night, though, I didn't think we'd be joking about dropping dead anymore.

Then she had started muttering softly in her sleep, and let me tell you, THAT got my attention like nothing else.  Her brow furrowed, she frowned slightly.  <Not another nightmare> I pleaded silently, <Let her sleep in peace.>  I smoothed her forehead with my fingertips, the lightest touch, and her frown had disappeared with a sleepy sound of contentment that made me smile as well.  Scully reached up and touched my hand, still asleep, and murmured, "Safe...thanks, Mulder..."  I blinked back tears at that simple statement.  I was probably the *least* safe person in Scully's life, yet she had turned to me last night when she needed someone.  Finally she had opened up to me.  <In more ways than one> I thought with a chuckle.  She said one more thing before sinking back into deep sleep and letting go of my hand: "So nice...kissing me..."  I grinned.

She had awakened suddenly while I was still playing with her hair.  I'd had to restrain my impulse to bolt off the bed and flee from the room like a frightened woodland creature.  <Chill out, this is Scully...she's still your friend, even if you did take a few liberties last night...right?>  Her smile had slowed my pulse to a normal rate and her shock at sleeping so long had amused me.  She seemed okay with the kissy-face of the previous evening, although I did have my doubts when I'd caught her looking at me oddly over dinner...doubts that were then erased by the kisses we'd shared in my kitchen.  Doubts
that had reared their ugly heads again <hi! thought we were going somewhere?> when she'd made that "normal" remark.

And now here I was, pacing my living room like a caged animal, mentally kicking myself for slamming the recently opened door in her face.  She'd taken me into her confidence, trusted me with her problems, and how did I handle that?  By having what amounted to a temper tantrum and escorting her coldly home.  Geez, she was gonna kill me.  If she spoke to me at all, that is.

<Fuck, this is why I never wanted to get involved with Scully.>  I snorted at that thought.  I was *already* involved with Scully, and I wanted very much to be *further* involved.  I just didn't think it would be the best thing for her.  I hadn't loved anyone since Samantha...what would happen if I let myself love Scully?  <Dana> a voice in my head chided me, <She's *Dana* and you can't *let* yourself love her...because you already do.>

Thus, I spent the rest of my evening alternately pacing some more and flopping down on my couch with angry sighs, wondering why nothing on TV was distracting me tonight.  I must have reached for the phone a million times, wanting to call her.  <Scully...Dana, I'm sorry.  I didn't *want* to shut you out...>  The furthest I got was dialing half of her number.  <She needs her sleep...Bullshit.  She's probably not sleeping much after the way you treated her.  Be noble, Mulder, and let her go.  Don't fuck with her head anymore than you already have.>  Okay then, I would go into work tomorrow and act like everything was normal.  <Christ, that word again.  No escape.>

I picked my most obnoxious tie the next morning, the one I knew Scully hated the most, hoping to get a smile out of her.  I kept the radio off all during my drive to FBI headquarters, drumming my fingers nervously against the wheel to my own internal beat.  <God, this is like going to pick up my prom date...only worse.>  I ran down the stairs to the basement, too edgy to wait for the elevator.  I paused outside the door, then swung it open.  Darkness.  She wasn't here yet.  I snapped on the lights, started the coffee, even making that god-awful fudge flavored stuff I knew Scully loved.

I stared at the file on the desk in front of me, wondering why I was even pretending to make the effort.  My senses were tuned into the hallway, waiting for her footsteps.  My door was even half-open, an event unusual enough to warrant its own X-File.  Footsteps came and went...then I heard hers approaching.  I'd know Scully's step anywhere.  Her sensible pumps ticked down the hall, counting out the seconds until...what?  My heartbeat drummed in my ears, growing louder with her footsteps.  The door swung open the rest of the way and that red head peeked around the corner.

"Someone bust the lock again?" Scully inquired pertly.

I think I gaped.  I had been expecting anger, coldness...anything but Scully's *normal* behavior.  Usually I have a witty comeback ready for any banter she throws my way, but right then I felt like my brain was wrapped in cotton.

"Uhhhh...no."

"Good, because I think maintenance is tired of giving you new doorknobs and keys " she replied, walking in and sitting down in her chair facing my desk, like she'd done a million times before.  She was wearing my favorite suit, the sky blue pants suit she'd first worn during the 2Shy case.  It was unlike any of her other conservative, dark suits.  It matched her eyes exactly.  I'd made a comment to that effect at the time and she'd felt my forehead for a fever.

"Ummmm...yeah."  I managed a watery smile.

"Mulder...are you all right?" she asked, arching one eyebrow at me.

Was I all right?  What kind of a question was that? <We *did* kiss last night, didn't we?>  I wanted to ask her more than anything, but something stopped me.  As her cool blue eyes met mine, I began to catch on.  She wanted to pretend none of this had happened.  That she hadn't bared her soul to me, that we hadn't kissed each other like no partners should.  Whatever she wanted.  I could play this game.

"I'm fine.  Just fine."

"Good.  What are we working on?"

"Well, we have to finish up the case report on Gerald Schnauz <she didn't even flinch at his name---damn, she's good> and get all the usual annoying paperwork done for Skinner: expense reports, yadda yadda, yadda."

She nodded.  "Well, since I started the case report, how about if I wrap that up, then I'll help you with the other forms, okay?"

"Sure.  Fine.  Whatever."

Scully shot me a look at my curt tone but said nothing, only rose and walked over to her desk to set up her laptop.  She got right down to work <how the hell can she concentrate?> while I angrily shuffled papers around.  I hate red tape on a normal day <what the hell *is* a normal day for us, anyway?> but I really thought I might snap trying to fill in the dotted lines with Scully sitting across the room, tapping softly on her keyboard.  I wanted to throw myself at her feet and ask forgiveness for doing a 180 and dumping her back at home.  I wanted to sweep the computer off her desk with one arm and ask her what the hell she thought she was doing to me.  I wanted to tiptoe up behind her, tap her on the shoulder, and softly inquire, "Did last night happen or not?"

"Excuse me?"  she said, turning in her chair to face me.

"What?"

"You said something."

"No, I didn't."  <Shit, was that out loud?>

"Oh...I thought I heard you say something."

"Nah, just, um, talking to myself.  You know."

She looked at me for a minute, then shrugged and turned back to her work.  <How can she just sit there and type? Doesn't she want to know what I said? She didn't really buy that "I didn't say anything" crap...did she?  Of course, she was probably saying much the same thing to herself last night after I...>

I shook my head and forced my attention to the crumpled forms in front of me.  I was getting as good as I usually gave, and I didn't like it one bit.  I couldn't even decide if Scully was playing mind games on purpose <nah, she wouldn't do that> or if she really just wanted to forget what had happened.  <The *enigmatic* Dr. Scully> I thought, and managed a smile.  My mind ping-ponged back and forth.  Ask her?  Let it go?  Draw her further into my twisted universe or be noble and keep her at arms' length?  Find out how she really felt about me or spend the rest of my life wondering?  Admit to myself---and to her---how *I* felt about *her*, or keep my mouth shut and maybe regret it?

Regrets.  I had so many where Scully was concerned.  She didn't know it but I still had the tape from my answering machine, when she'd been abducted by Duane Barry.  <Mulder, I need your help!  Mulder...!>  I didn't play it very often anymore, although I had after she'd first come back.  Constantly.  <Mulder, I need your help!>  Her words still echoed in my head like a mantra.  I knew I would always hear them.  It suddenly occurred to me that she'd sounded just like that screaming for me in Schnauz's trailer <Mulder, I'm in here! Mulder, help!>

"Mulder...?"

I must have jumped a mile at her gentle hand on my shoulder.  I hadn't heard her get up and walk across the office to me.

"Sorry...are you okay?"

I looked up at her, almost surprised to see her standing there, I'd been so lost in my memories of when she'd been gone...and then dying.  *Dying.*  She had come so close to it. I had nearly lost her for good.  Melissa had come to my door, urging me to come to the hospital before it was too late.  <I expect more of you, Dana expects more! It may not bring her back, but at least she'll know. And so will you.> And if I hadn't gotten to her in time yesterday, I would've spent the rest of my life visiting her in a hospital, only she *wouldn't* have known.

Her brows drew together in a puzzled frown as I gaped at her, lost in thought again.  She was about to speak when I reached out and grabbed her hand.

"You're here."

She smiled.  "Last I checked, yes."

"I mean...you're *here*.  Standing here.  Everything's okay."

She squeezed my hand back and then slowly pulled hers from my grasp.

"I don't know...*is* everything okay?"

I grinned like a goof.  "Yeah.  Everything's okay."

She nodded.  "Good.  Now let's get back to work."  She walked back to her desk and sat down, immediately absorbed in her report again.  I watched her closely for a minute, still somewhat amazed that she was in one piece.  As my mind cleared, however, I started to mentally kick myself.  What the hell was *that* all about, Mulder?  Some pretty smooth talkin' there.  <You're here.  Duh, of course she is, Mulder, she always has been.  But for how much longer, if you keep denying how you feel about her...and how *she* feels about *you*?>

I clenched and unclenched my fists around the forms, willing myself to open my mouth and speak.  <C'mon, Mulder, you can do it. You *are* a Ph.D., after all.  Just say it.  You may not want to right now, but suppose something happens to her?  Suppose they take her again...and don't bring her back this time. Think you could survive the rest of your life knowing you had the chance to tell her you love her and you let it slip away?>

Sweat started to bead on my forehead at the thought.  God, I was no good at this sort of thing.  I hadn't been in love since Phoebe Green, not really.  I'd various flings, sure, but never anything serious.  Kristen Kilar flashed through my mind and I winced.  Scully had been going through God knows what kind of torture and I'd been getting laid by a vampire.  <Nice going, Mulder.  Don't you think Scully deserves someone a little more loyal?>

But I *was* loyal to her...wasn't I?  I'd searched for her for months.  I had never given up on her, not when her mother had bought her tombstone, not even when the doctors had given up all hope.  She'd even said the strength of my beliefs had brought her back.  And I'd always had the strength of hers.  I'd let her get closer to me than anyone in my life, ever.  Now here was Scully right in front of me, the partner I'd always depended on more than anybody...could I let her be something more to me?  More to the point: she *already* meant more, but could I accept that?  Did I deserve to?

Okay.  This had to be done.  I knew with absolute certainty that I would never forgive myself if I didn't tell Scully how I felt about her now, while I had the chance.  The door had been opened to me, by Scully herself <Mulder, can you come get me?>.  Now all I had to do was walk through it.  Into a place I knew well but had never really visited: Dana Katherine's heart.

<Flowers, get her flowers.>  The voice in my head seemed to be making some sense this time.  <This is a momentous occasion>, I told myself, <don't just spill your guts here in your office, the warehouse for UFOs-R-Us. Impress her.  After all, you only tell a woman you love her for the first time once, right?>  I smothered a grin at the incredulous look I knew Scully would have on her face when I sprung this on her.  I knew she thought Fox Mulder didn't have even a nodding acquaintance with romance or chivalry.  Well, *she* was in for a surprise. I grinned.  This was pretty sneaky of me.  Guess ol' Spooky still has some surprises left in him.  She would probably think I was some poorly programmed Mulder-clone, but I had a feeling I could soon convince her of the sincerity of my feelings.

I shoved the forms aside and got to my feet, smothering my grin just before Scully turned around to look at me inquiringly.

"Going somewhere?"  she asked.

"Um, yeah, I need to <think fast, Mulder> do a little research for a new case that Skinner's assigned us.  I'll finish those forms later, okay?"

She merely shrugged and turned back to her computer, resumed her typing.  <She's probably pissed that I'm blowing off the paperwork.  Oh, well, she'll get over it soon enough.>

I continued to marvel at my own behavior as I walked to my car.  Now it was my turn to act out of character.  It was almost as if Scully's heart-broken sobs had opened up some door in my soul.  A door with rusty hinges, that had been nailed shut since my sister's abduction.  A door that led to a room full of emotions I had only had a nodding acquaintance with over the years.  Emotions I logically knew everyone felt, emotions I could outwardly appear to feel...but emotions that I hadn't *really* experienced myself.  Scully was sometimes the same way, I thought, she seems so cool on the outside, but every once in awhile she surprises me.  The one and only time she'd called me "Fox," for example, and told me I was the only one she'd put her career on the line for.  Well, I decided, it was way past time for *both* of us to open up more.

I felt like a big, lost dork as soon as I walked into the flower shop.  I wrinkled my nose at the assault of odors, wondering again why women loved flowers so much.  <They smell, they give you allergies, then they die...but who am I to go against tradition?>  I grinned at that last thought, knowing that I was the poster boy for going against tradition.  Still, Clark Gable would do it.  <Okay, Mulder, suck it up and act like the suave gentleman we all know you can be.>

I meandered around, managing to avoid the salesgirl by ducking behind displays every time she got near me.  I didn't want to be talked into anything.  This was *my* gift to Scully, a small way of saying how I loved her, and I was determined to be...different.  As usual.

I paused next to a big plastic bucket filled with long stemmed roses.  <Okay, roses are good.>  My eyes took in the red ones first, then dismissed them as boring.  *Everyone* gives a single red rose to declare their love.  Scully and I had not come together like everyone else, so doing it like everyone else was out.  White?  I thought of a phrase I'd read once, that very few women could dare to hold a white rose against their skin.  <Scully *does* have beautiful skin...>  Nah.  Too mushy.  Pink?  Not for a redhead.  Yellow?  All I could think of was "The Yellow Rose of Texas."  I finally settled on a half-opened <just like us> bud that was a delicate shade of peach.  I couldn't explain it, exactly, but the color seemed right.

"Just one?" the salesgirl asked me.

"Yup." I answered.  "Could you maybe dress it up a little?"

She nodded and smiled, "Sure thing."  I watched as she added a fern leaf and a spring of baby's breath, then wrapped the small bundle in dark green tissue paper.  She even included a little plastic thing full of water on the bottom of the rose.  I felt myself grinning.

"Thanks a lot."

"No problem.  Good luck."  She winked at me.

I was pretty proud of myself as I headed back to my car.  I was acting less like Fox Mulder, Special Agent and a little more like Fox Mulder, Human Being.  <Although Scully might debate that last part when I present her with a single rose.>  Heading back to FBI headquarters, I decided that my basement office was not where I wanted to talk to Scully.  Someplace else, I thought.  Somewhere outside.  We'd always met each other on our bench by the Potomac when there was something important happening in our lives, that would be the right spot.  I pulled out my cell phone and called the office.

"Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Hi, this is Special Agent Fox Mulder, can you connect me to my office?"

"One moment, Agent Mulder..."

It rang once...twice.  <Come on, Scully pick up.>  Five, six...well, maybe she'd taken a break or something.  Just as I was about to hang up, she answered.

"Scully."

"Hey, it's me."

"Mulder?  Where are you?"

<Shit, I never told her I was leaving the building...oh, well.>  "I'm in my car, Scully, can you meet me somewhere?"

"Your *car*?  I thought you were just going upstairs to the library."

"Um, yeah, well...I had to go out someplace.  It was important."

She sighed.  "Another secret source, Mulder?"

"Better."

"Better than a secret source?  Do you have a little gray man in the car?"

"Nope, it's even more mysterious than that.  You game or not, Scully?"

She paused.  "Okay, where?"

"Our bench by the Potomac.  As soon as you can get there.  I'm already on my way."

"Fine."  Abruptly, she hung up.  <Probably *really* pissed at me now.  It's worth it, Scully, trust me.>

I sat on the bench, jiggling my legs impatiently.  Five minutes for her to shut off the computer, think evil thoughts of me, get her coat on.  Another five to get to the garage, maybe ten if Skinner catches up with her along the way.  After that, about another ten or fifteen minutes to get here.  We'll say twenty, in case there's traffic.

That half hour was the slowest of my life.  I didn't start to pace until forty-five minutes had gone by.  <Where the hell *is* she?>  One hour.  One hour and twenty minutes.  I tried to reach her on her cell phone and got a polite recording informing me that the cellular customer I was trying to reach was unavailable.  <She *never* turns off her cell phone.>  I tried back at the office---maybe she'd gotten hung up with something.  No answer.  One hour and thirty-five minutes.  She should have been here by now.  I tried her apartment. "Hi, I can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message."  Damn machine.  One hour and forty minutes.  Scully wasn't anywhere.

Still clutching the peach rose in my hand, I started for my car, my heart pounding.  Scully's voice echoed in my head as I ran: "Mulder, I need your help!  Mulder, help me!"  I couldn't outrun her cries.  I jumped into the car and careened out of there, wondering where the hell I should look for her this time.

To be continued...

Geez, don't ya just *hate* when they end like that?  It's my own special way of making sure you guys stay tuned for Part 3...hehehe.

Go to Us 3: Get This Love Untied