| I sit alone. Alone as I always have been, and as I always will be. Goddamn it! I want to fucking scream. Why was she being such a bitch? Why the fuck was it always about her? I'm leaving, I'm fine... Goddamn it, I love you. And why the fuck can't I say it? I'm such a shit, such a loser and such a waste of her time. The time she doesn't want to spend with me. The time...I need another drink. "Another tequila, now." That's it, shit it burns. Another. "Another." Ah, much better. Let's not think about that now, let's think about that blonde over there...no let's not. She's fucking artificial and her tits are too big, she probably went to community college and majored in communications. Fuck communications, fuck her. Why, am I thinking like this? I shouldn't think about her that way. I shouldn't take liberties with her character like that. She doesn't deserve that and she never has. I am a sorry ass excuse for a husband. Husband? Where the fuck...It sure as hell feels like I'm her husband, the way I've made her saddle herself to me. Jesus, I'm a fucking psychologist and I don't even know what's wrong with me. It's HAS to be the tequila. Sleep, that's what I need. No I need her. *3 hours later Scully's Apartment* Jesus, I have the worst headache. I shouldn't be knocking so loud. "Mulder, it's two in the morning. What are you doing here? You did this last week too, and frankly I-" "Scully, shut the hell up. Just shut up and let me in." I push past her and almost laugh at the look on her face. She is trying to hide her fear with a look of exhasperation. It's not working babe, it never fucking has. I am a psychologist and even though I may not be able to cataloge my own thoughts, but your expressions is the one thing that I can read on you. Not your thouhgts or feelings, but your expressions. And right now you're scared of me. No reason to be, I'm just fucking confused. "I'm fucking confused." "About what?" You say, sitting down on the couch just as I do. "About you. About the way you act lately. The way you're uncomfortable around me, and I know that what you've been through was hard but....it was hard for me too. I was so fuckin' hard. Worse than before." "Mulder I-" "And ever since that *Thing* in my hallway, I want to know what changed." "I...I... Nothing changed, that was just me...getting overwhelmed." "No Scully, it wasn't I wanted you...so bad...I wanted you." "Mulder, don't start this, don't start..." "I loved you Scully, I love you now, I'll love you...forever, until I die, until I'm dead and buried and you cry for me over my grave." "Mulder," you whisper, almost unintelligible. A tear is forming, and I want to kiss it as it runs down your cheek. So I do. "Mulder." You whisper as I do, as I kiss my way down your cheekbone, along your jawbone, and then I hover at your lips. "I need to Scully...." "You don't have to ask." You say raspily, as your eyes meet mine. I think that you expect me to meet you harshly halfway, but I don't. I wait. I wait for you to kiss me. It's your choice now and you take it. You kiss me tenderly, very tenderly. Like a wisp of air, flying past my lips. And I no longer feel drunk. I feel high, on you. And I love it. I love the feeling, you. I lay you down on the couch and get up to retrieve a blanket, but you get up. And take my hand to lead me to the bedroom. I lay you down and lay down next to you. I pull the balnket up... And we sleep until noon. THE END |