Phoenix
By Shoshana

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
June 26th, 1999
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It amazes me that I have allowed Mulder to sweet-talk me into yet
another dubious trek across America. It's almost like he throws down
a gauntlet, daring me to follow him to the ends of the earth. In
this case, it's only Phoenix. And we're only checking into those
mysterious lights in the sky on March 13, 1997.
.
They're not so mysterious any more, in my opinion. They were
investigated by plenty of news agencies, the Discovery channel, the
U.S. military, and various U.F.O. enthusiasts worldwide. I had
always thought it conclusive that they were flares ejected at the end
of a training exercise at the Barry Goldwater Air Force Test Range
west of Tucson.

However, Mulder's never been totally convinced of that. And when he
mentioned the phenomena to me in March of '97, he seemed to agree
with the 'official explanation' also. In retrospect, I think that he
was just avoiding an argument. We had just finished putting Eddie
Van Blundht away for raping five women and attempting to seduce me in
my apartment. Mulder had discovered me on my couch, ready and
willing to kiss his ersatz twin, who sheepishly morphed back into
Eddie in a heartbeat.

After the initial shock, he carefully concealed his feelings on the
matter from me, preferring to hide behind a mask of indifference. I
couldn't and didn't want to offer any explanation for my
vulnerability. I was only human, not unlike the other women whom
Eddie had victimized. And I had fallen prey to his/Mulder's charms
with good reason. If I had to spell it out to Mulder, elaborate on
what should have been painfully transparent to him, then it would
have been tantamount to denying that he had any brain cells left in
his ordinarily highly functioning mind. Clearly, it was not the time
for confrontation, and he wisely chose not to argue about the Phoenix
phenomena.

But he always remained curious about the lights, despite his lack of
time to follow up on them. He was being asked to take another forced
vacation this summer and he had decided to go out to Phoenix and
interview some of the eyewitnesses, watch their videos, and satisfy
his curiosity for good. I was a little surprised when he asked me to
come along, but I figured that I would probably be flying out there
anyway, after he managed to get himself into some predicament or
hospital bed without me.

I knew Mulder, and I knew that he was a danger to himself without
any backup. Even on such a benign pursuit as this, I feared for his
safety and was flattered that he wanted me along. I really didn't
know what I'd do with myself for a whole week without him. Well,
yeah, I do know what I'd do with myself. I'd putter around the
house, catch up on all my reading, watch all those videos I've been
hoarding for a rainy day, clean the bathroom twice. Thrilling. It
definitely wouldn't be as fun and challenging as flying away to
Phoenix and chasing long gone U.F.O. sightings. And, for once, he
was taking care of all the arrangements that I usually had to hassle
with, flights, hotel, rental vehicle, the works.

We took an evening flight out of D.C. and were both so exhausted
that we slept on the plane. I woke up several times during the long
flight, not surprised to discover that I was snoozing on Mulder's
shoulder. I suspected that he had insinuated himself there, allowing
me to lean against him each time I dozed off. Each time I awoke he
feigned slumber himself, probably fearing that I'd change my
comfortable position if he voiced his awareness of it. He was
probably correct, but then again I was perfectly content to play this
little game, if I had a nice, warm shoulder to collapse on.

We arrived in Phoenix very late, while the temperatures were still
cool and the night sky was clear and laden with stars. We picked up
our rental car, left Sky Harbor Airport, and headed north to
Scottsdale, a suburb just east of Phoenix. We checked into a lovely
resort in Scottsdale, the only guests arriving that late at night. I
was pretty sure that Mulder had booked separate rooms and my
suspicions were borne out when the hotel clerk handed him two keys
with a smile.

I hadn't expected anything else, but I idly speculated what his
reaction would have been had I instructed him to book a suite or even
just one room for us. Would he have been totally shocked, would he
have declined to do so, suspecting it to be an elaborate dare on my
part? I knew it would have been too abrupt a change in protocol for
us. If I wanted to disrupt the status quo, I had all week to do so.
I wanted to take Mulder's emotional temperature first, discover what
this trip was really all about. I was almost positive there was more
to this little sortie than just chasing U.F.O.s.

The next morning, we went hiking up Squaw Peak, dozens of other
climbers around us. We collapsed at the top, relieved to sit down
and impressed by the magnificent view below. The city of Phoenix
sprawled out beneath us, teasing the mountains on all sides of it.
The weather was just right in the early morning. June in Phoenix can
mean one hundred degree or more weather, but the humidity was low,
and the hike was pleasant. Much preferable to D.C. weather, any
summer day.

We hiked back down and spent the rest of the morning by the pool,
listening to the radio, dozing off, reading the newspaper to one
another. We must have seemed like any other tourists, swimming in
the pool, sipping on cool drinks. I was totally relaxed with him.
We were truly comfortable with one another, conversant or not. Long
silences were filled with warm, companionable smiles. We simply
enjoyed each other's company and it was evident in our ease. A few
of the resort employees referred to Mulder as my husband, sometimes
within his earshot. No matter how many times this has occurred in
the past, it still managed to color my cheeks with warm
embarrassment, a condition I'm sure Mulder secretly relished.

I guess I would have been less than honest with myself if I hadn't
suspected his strong feelings for me. I knew he wouldn't reveal them
easily, especially after that scene in his hallway last summer. We'd
never discussed it and I didn't think we ever would. I thought he
was too embarrassed. Embarrassed that he was so desperate to make me
stay with him, he introduced an element to our relationship that,
though desirable, was the last sane thing he should have done at the
time.

If there had been no bee sting, who can tell what would have
happened? Would our partnership have been changed irrevocably at
that point? Would we have adjusted to a shift in the status quo,
ignoring all the difficulties a romantic relationship would bring?
If anything, that almost happened quality of that almost kiss had
forced both us back into our emotional armor, concealing what we both
suspected to be true.

He must have known I was in love with him. But, he remained
maddeningly obtuse about his own feelings, unless he was in a
hospital bed, delirious from medication. He told me he loved me.
Well, if he had done so when he wasn't in danger or a stupor, I might
have taken him seriously. Very seriously.

And he knew I stayed with him beyond all reason. I expected to be
ditched. I expected to be told half-truths, even if only for my own
protection. I'd even given him the benefit of the doubt concerning
Diana. Hell, she wasn't even around; although we knew she wasn't
dead. Her body was never found at El Rico and Mulder hadn't spoken
her name to me for months. Maybe we'd be able to discuss her
sometime soon, without any rancor or resentment.

We went out late that afternoon, visiting people on his list of
eyewitnesses. He was so relaxed about this that I was beginning to
suspect that it was just a ruse, a way to have lured me out here. He
didn't seem to be going about it with his usual intensity, his usual
drive. Well, maybe I misinterpreted that relaxed attitude for
apathy. He wasn't on the clock and it affected the tenor of his
interviews. And this was Phoenix, after all. The atmosphere was
less formal, more laid back than the East.

Our hosts welcomed us into their homes and were pleased to have
someone take them seriously. They were annoyed with the government's
official explanation. They knew what they had seen; they had
physical evidence of it on their videotapes. After two year's time,
they still didn't believe that the lights were flares from a training
exercise.

We only 'worked' for four hours, as Mulder had promised. He had
assured me that there would be more vacationing than investigating on
this trip, and he was holding to his word. We went straight to
dinner at a beautiful Chinese restaurant near the hotel. The food
was delicious and we found ourselves talking about anything but work.
We talked about summer vacations we had taken with our families. He
did have some good memories after all, despite his parent's divorce
and of course, Samantha's abduction.

After a few glasses of wine, I looked over at Mulder, thoughtfully
sipping at his club soda, and connected with his gaze. We had been
quiet awhile, simply enjoying that after dinner contentment that
follows a fine meal. I felt thoroughly pampered by him. He had
really taken care of it all, arranged everything, so that I would
feel comfortable on this trip. He had exerted no pressure on me. I
felt no urgency, no need to redefine our relationship in any way. We
were just friends, relaxing on vacation.

Mulder is a reticent man. He keeps his feelings close, not
revealing them unless forced by desperate circumstances, desperate
times. He reacts to the demands of a situation, evaluating the
crisis at hand, adjusting his emotional state to each task. When the
task at hand is concealing his feelings from me, he's not always
successful. I have seen the subtlety of his expression when he's
jealous for no reason. He probably thinks I've never noticed how
wounded he looks, particularly when other agents ask me out while
he's still in the same room. He hides emotions well, but not that
well.

So, it was with some surprise that I gazed into those beautiful,
lucent eyes and detected a subtle change in his disposition. Mulder
wasn't looking at me as just as a friend, he was questioning me as a
lover. He was letting all that need and want that he normally
concealed so expertly drift from those eyes to mine. He wasn't
demanding. He wasn't insistent. He was just asking, adoring,
imploring me to respond. I was so complimented, I averted my gaze,
feeling blood rush to my head and my cheeks on fire.

He asked me if I'd like to see the valley at night from the slopes
of Camelback Mountain. I told him I'd love to and he helped me with
my chair, opening the door for me on the way out. I had always felt
special to him, at least as his good friend. The way he was treating
me that evening felt so different from 'just friends,' that I could
easily believe in him, in his sincere and long held love for me.
He'd always tried to do right by me, as a friend, and as a partner.
Maybe he'd reached a breaking point, a point at which he had to risk
everything we had, everything we meant to each other, in order to
retain precious sanity, in order to function as that friend, that
partner.

We parked on the residential street that wound its way up the
mountain. It's amazing how houses can perch on the side of those
mountains. How do they even build homes up there? It's a thousand
feet in the air and their foundations cling to the sloping ground
like magic. They appear to be teetering on the edge. Not unlike my
body, relaxed by the wine, yet taut with nervous tension.

We walked over to a guard rail and looked down onto the city lights
below. It wasn't long before I gravitated toward Mulder's side,
unable to resist his warmth anymore. He startled at first, and then
looked down at me in the moonlight, his face illuminated like a
beacon. He placed his arm around my shoulder and I leaned against
him, embracing his waist. I'd never felt more love for him. We just
stood silently, hands flexing with involuntary little tugs at my
shoulder, his waist.

The impulse to turn towards him became irresistible, and I pulled
him around in my arms, savoring the touch of his skin against mine.
Without a word, he leaned down and gently touched his lips to mine,
then pulled back to read the expression in my eyes. I didn't doubt
what he saw. It was the same look of absolute adoration he had been
generous enough to show me earlier. I couldn't imagine not returning
that gift, one that would change our lives forever.

With a devilish smile, I finally asked him, "Agent Mulder, have you
brought me to Lover's Lane?"

Kissing my forehead and pulling me close to his heated body, he
said, "Yes, Agent Scully. Do you feel like a teenager now?"

I pulled away laughing, grasping his hands in mine. "A hormonal
teenager?"

"Just hit puberty," he answered back.

"So that accounts for those weird sensations in my fingers and
toes...and elsewhere..."

"And elsewhere. I've taken adolescent psychology, you know."

"Ooh, what can you tell me about these changes in my body, Doctor
Mulder?"

"That they're permanent. You'll never be able to resist them again."

"Ever?"

"Not ever, not as long as I have you under my close supervision."

"And how long might that be, Doctor?"

"However long you like. I make house calls, you know."

"Do you charge extra on the weekends?"

"Agent Scully, I don't think I'll ever be charging you at all..."

fin

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