TITLE:  Easier Said...
AUTHOR:  salliejohns
CATEGORY:  MSRish, vignette
RATING:  PG
SPOILER:  Paper Hearts  
FEEDBACK:  [email protected]  (Just the good stuff, please.)
URL:  http://www.geocities.com/salliejohns927/
DISCLAIMER:  Not mine, no infringement intended, no money changing
hands
AUTHOR'S NOTE: at the end of the story

 ~~~~  Easier Said...  ~~~~

Sitting alone in her apartment wasn't the way to handle this.  
She should be around people, *needed* to be somewhere bright
and noisy.  By herself on the sofa, in the dark, was definitely
bad-no way to keep from running the scene over and over again
in her mind.   It seemed that it was all she could think about,
and thinking about it was wrong-crazy in fact.

Maybe she could go to the mall-it would probably still be
semi-crowded, even though it was getting kind of late.  
Late. . .a bar.  A bar or a club would be good; she could have
a drink and lose herself in the music, and not really focus on
anything.  The problem was, Dana Katherine Scully was a lady,
and ladies don't go to bars or clubs unescorted, especially
at night.

Damn!  There had to be *somewhere* she could go to get away
from her thoughts.  Her thoughts were only going to get her
into trouble; that she was sure of.  She needed to go somewhere
that wasn't work-that would be even worse-and wasn't here.  
Someplace *neutral.*

She could certainly go visit her mother, but she was pretty
sure her mother might be suspicious if her by-the-book daughter
showed up at her front door at 9:30 at night.  Actually, it
would be after 10 PM by the time she arrived.  It would be
difficult to convince her mom that the visit was purely social.  
Questions would be asked, and eventually it would all come out.  
A discussion would follow, albeit one-sided, and Scully didn't
want to talk about it.  She didn't even want to think about it.
   
This was ridiculous!  She was obsessing.  Obsessing over a
stupid incident that didn't mean a thing.  She had more
willpower than that.  She could sit right there in her
apartment, and *not* think about it at all.  There were
plenty of other things to think about.  She could watch TV,
or catch up on some reading.  There was always a small stack
of medical journals that she wanted to review, and didn't the
local news come on at 10?

She didn't seem to be moving.  She willed herself to pick up
the remote control, and turn to the local news channel.  
"Coming up on the Ten O'clock News, we have more on the
shooting of John Lee Roche in the abandoned bus yard."
She clicked off the television with a bit more force than
was necessary.  *That* certainly wasn't going to help.

She picked up the most recent copy of "The American Journal
of  Forensic Medicine and Pathology."   She was sure there
was an article she had thought would be particularly
interesting, but try as she might, she couldn't seem to
locate it in the Table of Contents.  All this avoiding her
feelings, combined with the late hour, were causing her
thoughts to become slightly muddled.  Exactly what would
be so bad if she sat for a few minutes before going to bed,
and reflected upon what had happened in the office earlier
in the evening?
  
OK.  She had gone into the office to give Mulder the results
of the tests that had been done on the last cloth heart.   
Nothing wrong with that.  The heart didn't belong to
Samantha's nightgown, but she didn't think Mulder really
expected there would be a match.  She told Mulder
confidently that they would eventually find the name of
the little girl that had worn that nightgown.   That was no
lie told to boost her partner's spirits.  She knew Mulder,
knew his determination.  She told Mulder, in her kindest,
most caring voice, to go home and get some sleep.  He looked
so lost, so vulnerable, and when her comment made him chuckle
wryly, she'd smiled with him.  Nothing wrong with that.

Oh, wait.  It was what happened next that was the problem.  
She'd moved closer to him, and Mulder had reached out to
hug her.  They'd hugged before, but his arm had never snaked
around her *there* before.   He'd never rested his head against
her breasts.  The action had caused a quick, hot spark deep
inside her, and she was caught wildly off-guard.  Ruffling
his hair lightly, she had moved away immediately.  That wasn't
a sensation she was accustomed to experiencing with Mulder-not
at all.  He was her partner, her friend.  Hell, he was probably
her best friend, and best friends don't create that kind of
feeling in one another.  Not that she hadn't enjoyed it--that
was the thing that troubled her most.  It had felt really good,
and kind of right, and the realization of *that* was what had
caused her to back up abruptly.
  
She remembered feeling giddy and excited, and by the time
she had reached the hall, she could feel her cheeks
flaming from embarrassment.  The experience had been more
than pleasant-she'd been stirred sexually.  Dana Scully
understood sexual stimulation.  She could even explain the
physiology of it.  What completely floored her however, was
that Mulder had been the source of this excitement.  Mulder.  
Her best friend.  Had excited her.  Sexually.
  
Oh, my God!  She was sexually attracted to Mulder!
She and Mulder had been partners for four and a half years,
and she was just now discovering he turned her on?  Well,
there had been that silly, little, school-girl crush she'd
developed shortly after she and Mulder had begun working
together on the X-Files.
   
But, that had been nothing more than a harmless, temporary
infatuation.  It hadn't made her pulse race until she could
hear the blood pounding in her ears.  It had never rendered
her weak-kneed and. . . .uh, wet.  No, this was something
completely different, and it scared the shit out of her.
She couldn't have *that* kind of feelings for Mulder.
  
*Could not*.  They had to work together, back each other up,
face the "bad guys" together.  They couldn't afford to
be...involved.  It was dangerous, risky, foolhardy.  
Their feelings could be used against them, and besides,
what made her think the feeling was even vaguely mutual?

*This* was why she needed some kind of distraction.  This
kind of thinking--exploring these unexpected feelings--this
could get her into trouble.  It was best if she just tried
to forget the entire incident.  Forget it.  Don't think
about it.  Thinking about it was wrong, and she knew it.
  
She knew it was wrong, but she did it anyway.
  
fin
 
AUTHOR'S NOTE:  This story was written for the Believe The
Truth Quick Fic Challenge.  The only required element was
the use of the sentence: "She knew it was wrong, but she
did it anyway."