Julia
Chapter Twenty-three

Disclaimers, etc. in Headers


Washington, D.C.
February 10, 2001
9:58 p.m.


Stiff fatigue dogged her every step into the
suite, as did Mulder's shadow.  All through the
x-rays, he'd remained within sight of her; the
nurse had to insist he stand behind the
protective panel.  Even then, it wasn't until
Julia had flashed him a covert warning look that
he'd complied.

The doctor, while sorely lacking in bedside
manner, was thorough.  And, as she'd thought,
he'd noticed the missing implant in the head x-
ray immediately.  In a terse explanation, Mulder
told him about the nosebleed and the implant's
probable disappearance down the toilet in a wad
of tissue.  As promised, he'd put on quite a
show;  the doctor visibly flinched at his blowy
insistence they procure another.

His angry act wasn't totally fake, either.  Jaw
clenched, face tight, he pushed the doctor into
submission, stony displeasure directed at Julia
in tense, hot waves.  Only she knew the extent
of the guilt that made him lash out at the
doctor in her place.

Silence reigned as they entered the dark suite,
leaving the ever-present Guardsman out in the
hall.  Julia didn't quite know what to do;
though she longed for a hot bath, she was
reluctant to leave things alone for even a
moment.  Before they'd left for the Infirmary,
they'd reached a tentative truce.  Knowing the
plan must be carried out, they'd set aside the
personal and embraced the professional.

But how to approach him?  It wasn't that she
relished the conversation to come, especially
when he'd seen the physical evidence of their
encounter.  She knew the discomfort was minor;
*he* treated every mark on her body as another
sign of his unworthiness.  It was written on his
face - etched out in harsh lines that grooved
his cheeks and brow.

He looked as stiff as she felt, slowly walking
to and then rounding the bar to open the small
refrigerator under the counter.  Julia paused,
holding her breath.  He wasn't hitting the
bottle again, was he?  In a heartbeat, she
padded to the couch and flicked on the lamp.

Mulder looked up and squinted, holding an ice
tray in mid-air.  She knew he'd noticed the
apprehension on her face when he mocked, "Ice,
Julia.  Just ice.  Though there's something to
be said for alcohol when the occasion warrants,
don't you think?" Grabbing a hand towel, he
began to fill it with ice cubes.

It was then she noticed the swollen knuckles of
his right hand.  The force of his blows to the
Guardsman came to mind and she paled, more so
with worry than from guilt at her silent
accusation of him.  Though she felt *him* shrink
about two inches as he looked away.

"Maybe I will have a drink... why change now?" 
Self-derision slurred his words, though he made
no move for the whiskey decanter that sat within
arm's reach.

She moved to his side and finished his task for
him, taking the ice cube tray from him.  He let
her, his sigh speaking of reluctance, but he
said nothing.  Wrapping the towel around the
ice, she took his right hand and gently pressed
the cold compress to his skin.

He allowed one moment to pass, then two, before
jerking away.  "Will you stop it?" he hissed,
side-stepping her to walk to the huge window. 
Back to her, he rubbed at his neck and added,
"You go too far."

Dumbfounded, she stared after him.  Tending to
his injury was going too far?  After a second's
confusion, she realized his comment meant so
much more.  His statement angered her; she
slammed the towel on the bar and strode after
him, wrenching him to face her with a strong
hand to his shoulder.

<And just where should I stop, Mulder?> Fury
stained her cheeks, making them hot. <When will
it be enough?>

"Look at yourself, damn it," he cried, his eyes
blazing with equal passion on the subject.  "I'd
say enough came and went months ago.  Only it
seems to have sailed right over your stubborn
head."

His talk was bordering on suspicious, and the
thought floated through her mind that he was
dangerous close to saying something he
shouldn't.  But his words were veiled enough to
be directed at Julia - and pointed right at
Scully with swift, piercing truth.

Remembrance of a loaded conversation in his bed
in Bellefleur added fuel to the fire of her
wrath.  He'd told her she had to stop, that
there was so much more for her than her life
with him.  When would he realize that her life
was nothing without him?

<You idiot.> For once, her fingers moved in
perfect synchrony, stifling his protest.  He
stilled, his mouth dropping open with shocked
surprise.  Mute at last.  <Yes, I called you an
idiot.  You think I would have done all I did
for anyone but you?>

Dull color stained his cheeks and his eyes
darted away as crossed his arms defensively. 
"Well, don't expect me to shower you with
thanks."  His lower lip was defiant, pushing out
as he looked up again, his voice softly
resigned.  "You can't explain this away... can't
justify what you've had to do.  Nothing you
could say to me would convince me that it was
the right thing to do, Julia."

God, it was worse than she thought.  Hours ago,
in the aftermath of sex, he'd held her as if she
was the most precious piece of crystal.  But
that was before he'd found her unconscious on
the bathroom floor, blood pouring from her nose. 
Before he'd seen what their joining had done to
her body.

She could let it all go, she knew.  Turn away
from him and retreat in familiar, Scully form -
toss and turn in her bed for the next few hours,
waste more time ignoring everything until they
made it out.  Treat this personal impasse just
like all the others over the years... with
silent drifting until the next crisis.

No.  There was no case around the corner; no
sudden diving back into work to force their
relationship to return to normalcy.  If they
made it out - *when* they made it out - their
lives would be changed.  They already had
changed; from the moment Mulder disappeared,
their work lives were on hold.  The bees took
care of what little hope for normalcy that
remained.

Partners?  Friends?  Strictly speaking, she
agreed with the labels.  Just like old times,
working together toward a common goal, albeit
from different ends of the spectrum.  But in her
heart, she considered them lovers now.  And it
was time she told him so.  If he didn't want it
just as badly as she did, then so be it.  Like
she'd told him before, she could very well go it
alone.  As long as he was safe, she could do
anything.  Hadn't she already proven that?

Standing her ground, her hands began to move.

<I changed my face for you.  Changed my body for
you.> At his huff, she continued, knowing
exactly what he was about to say. <It wasn't for
the plan.  It was for you.>

He said nothing, though his arms dropped and he
took a step forward.  She retreated in return,
shaking her head, wanting to finish while she
had his undivided attention.  Her lips joined
in, soundlessly moving, unconsciously pleading.

<I would do it again.  I would go as far as I
had to, would let them do anything to me.  I'm
sorry if I hurt you, Mulder.  Sorry if I used
you.> Her eyes began to burn.  Almost there,
almost done. <But of all the things I've had to
do... all the suffering people I've had to
ignore on the street... all the times I've lied
and whored myself to the Underground...> And she
had, she knew it.  Lost her pride and
compassion, reason and dignity. <I never
regretted an instant of it.  Until tonight.>

Anger dissolved in her, her throat tight.  She
was gratified to see it disappear from him as
well, replaced with something guaranteed to fuel
her emotional swing.  Regret, sympathy,
compassion... all trademark reactions from a man
used to dealing with victims.

Mulder gulped, his husky, "Julia," pleading with
her to stop.  Eyes of dark, misty pain implored
her as well, but she wouldn't let him deter her. 
She backed away even further in response to his
approach.

She wasn't a victim.  She wasn't anything but a
woman who loved him.

<You didn't hurt me, Mulder.  You didn't do
anything to me that I didn't want.  If anything,
I forced *you.* And I'm so very sorry for that.>

"Damn it, Julia, listen to me."

<No.  Let *me* finish for once.>

Seeing her stealthy shuffle toward her bedroom,
he paused, hands in the air in concession.  She
knew her implied threat to put her bedroom door
between them was feeble, at best.  All he'd have
to do is follow her.  Really, she wasn't going
anywhere until she'd finished.  But he didn't
have to know that.  She demanded the floor
simply by the tears she now felt sliding hotly
down her cheeks, and he gave in with a sigh.

<It may have been Julia who didn't trust you
enough to tell you everything from the
beginning.  It may have been Julia who denied
you the truth until she was presented with
proof.  And I know it's Julia you look at every
day, wishing she were Scully.>

He grimaced at the last and started to speak,
but she held up her hands with a frown.  When he
nodded, she kept on, though she knew from the
slow burn in his gaze he was determined to
address some of what she was saying.

<But inside,> she touched the heart that raced
under her chest before continuing, <this heart,
this soul... belongs to you.  Scully's heart and
soul.  It was Scully who made love to you. 
Scully who loves you still.  Scully, who if she
had her voice, would tell you so.  Over and over
again.>

There, she'd said it at last.  Robbed of speech
by circumstance, she'd never lamented the loss
of her voice more than at this moment.  Her
hands could never tell him the depth of feeling
in those words... her eyes never adequately tell
him a truth she'd felt for so many years.

Mulder stood transfixed, his face one of shocked
surprise.  She waited, unable to look away from
him, watching him absorb what she'd never been
able to say before now.  Would he say it in
return?  He'd already said it to her in a
drunken confession not long ago; he'd even said
it to her in a Bermuda hospital, though she'd
not believed it then.

Sadly, she supposed she deserved his silence. 
It was only fair; after all the years of her
denial of his growing love for her - and he did
love her then, she knew that now - she deserved
whatever retribution he chose to bestow upon
her.  Dropping her chin, she half-turned, her
pride in tatters.  The bedroom beckoned with
dark safety and she took one step.

"You know, I never thought I'd say this to you,
Julia..."

The muttered reply was *not* was she expected,
but it made her pause.  Wiping a shaky hand
across her damp cheeks, she sniffled, turning
with the question on her face.

"... but you smell bad."  Mulder's smile was
warm and he closed the distance between them,
reaching up to finish drying her tears, his
fingers soft and sure.

The breath escaped her lungs in a soundless
chuckle as shy relief lowered her eyes.  From
the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair,
she felt life return.  Eyes that smiled at him
rose to meet his.  <I smell bad?>

"Yeah."  He moved closer and she swayed into
him, letting her hands encircle his neck.  "I
think you need a shower."

Of course - they could speak freely under the
din of running water.  From the heat of his
gaze, she knew that's not all they could do,
either.

<I smell like you,> she mouthed. <Is that so
bad?>

Mulder's arms went round her.  "Did I say bad?" 
Gently, he lifted her from the floor, asking
with his gaze if it was okay.  She nodded,
feeling pretty helpless - but loving every
moment of it, as her hands grabbed hold around
his neck.  "I meant *bad.*"

At his jive, she smiled, laying her cheek upon
his shoulder.  He started toward his bedroom,
his long strides eating up the distance to
privacy in the span of seconds.

"What say we hit the shower, home girl?"  His
breath hitched as her tongue touched his ear. 
Suddenly, his voice dropped to a shaky purr.
"And... maybe later... another game of 'one on
one'?"

As he shouldered open his door, she stopped him,
turning his face with one slim hand.  She wished
she could stop the moment, stay forever with him
in this room.  Hours... they only had hours
until all hell broke loose.  Inches from her own
mouth, his seductive grin faded into a slow
burn, his eyes drawn to her lips.

Yes, she told him with her kiss.



End Chapter Twenty-three


