Title: Sin Apuntamiento
Author: Noelle Lundgren
E-mail: AGillian21@aol.com
Rating: G
Category: VR
Spoilers: The End
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance.
Summary: Mulder discontinues to over-analyze the obvious at the expense
of Scully's emotions.
Disclaimer: Dana Scully, Diana Fowley, Fox Mulder, Gibson Praise and
"The X-Files" belong to their respective actors and actresses, and to
Chris Carter and the folks at Ten-Thirteen.
Note: I never set out to write a story dealing with any aspect of the
fifth season finale, as that seems to be one of the typical summer
fan-fiction projects... but look what at happened! The loose ends left
by "The End" somehow got tied to an idea of mine that didn't make it
into another story. Here is the result.
Dedication: For Jerri, with love of your admiration and admiration for
your ability to love.

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"Sin Apuntamiento"
Noelle Lundgren
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She was lying heavily in the hospital bed on crisp, white sheets,
propped up into a sitting position by white pillows, a white blanket
tucked snugly around her legs. Her face was fair with a mask of
discomfort and disease, her lips dry and pale. Her naturally stern mouth
was forced up, for no reason other than to be seen by him; her smile was
there to alleviate some of his fear, guilt, worry, and whatever other
negative emotions he might have bound to her being in the hospital.

Clothed in a suit and tie as usual, he sat there with her on the bed,
close to her hips. One of his hands cradled her face, his thumb stroking
her cheek gently while his fingers wove through her thick hair. The
other hand was sandwiched between the two of hers in a protective,
reassuring hold.

Dana Scully turned around, taking her eyes from the little window that
had made its way into the door of the hospital room. She had always
wondered at the purpose of those windows; they appeared in the classroom
doors of elementary and junior high-schools, also. Whatever its reason
for being there, however, Scully had been glad of this one's existence.
She was sure that had she simply opened the door without knowing what
lay beyond it, she wouldn't have been able to hide her reaction at
seeing them together, like that.

Scully expelled a shaky breath, her heart feeling like a mound of hard clay.

She crossed the hallway in three steps and let gravity deliver her
safely into one of the two black plastic chairs that faced the door. She
crossed her ankles neatly, and looked down into her lap. Her fingers
barely held three pink carnations tied loosely with a slice of thick,
green ribbon. They looked out of place against her heavy black skirt.

Scully studied the flowers carefully; each of the pink blossoms
supported by a green base that sloped into the stem looked like a tiny
recreation of a young girl's ruffled Easter dress. The flowers were
sweet and delicately pretty, Scully acknowledged, but she couldn't help
but wonder that they numbered three.

She took the small bouquet and placed it on the empty chair next to her,
returning her hands to her lap. Open against her thighs, Scully's empty
palms reflected the image in the hospital room that she'd been so hasty
to avert her eyes from.

She knew that smile so well, Scully realized; 'Please don't worry about
me, please don't think that this is your fault in any way, I'm sorry for
making you feel...' Scully closed her eyes. Somehow, Diana Fowley had
learned to form the same expression for Mulder that Scully had. There
was another message in Fowley's face, however. Scully had seen it, and
for some reason, it troubled her. Fowley had been announcing something
more to Mulder than Scully ever had, but Scully could not pin-point what
it was, let alone name it.

'That was a long time ago...'

It didn't matter when it was, though, Scully noticed. Being a thing of
the past didn't make it any less a reality in the present.

At that moment, Scully's train of thought was interrupted as the door in
front of her swung open, and her partner emerged. The entire hallway
seemed to fill with his presence.

"Scully?" Mulder sounded almost unsure that the woman sitting before him
was who he thought she was.

Scully suddenly had the feeling that she'd done something wrong. She
felt her partner's eyes take her in, moving over her like hands. Scully
turned her palms down, bushing them down her legs as though guilt had
settled on her in the form of dust. Hands on her knees as she prepared
to stand, Scully turned her chin up. Her eyes found Mulder's almost
automatically.

"Hi," she said in little more than a whisper. Scully stood then, feeling
the sudden need to be closer to Mulder's height. Before straightening up
completely, Scully closed her fingers around the small bouquet once
more. Flowers in hand, she tried to lengthen her neck, pushing her
shoulders down.

Scully's voice was stronger as she spoke this time. "I heard that Agent
Fowley was moved out of the ICU..."

Mulder nodded, apparently understanding, but his expression still seemed
to carry the belief that Scully was invading his space.

"How is she?" Scully asked, partly out of sheer curiosity and partly out
of desire to hear her partner's voice.

"Good." Mulder nodded as though he were assuring himself. "She's good --
as good as can be expected."

Scully's eyes darted to the miniature window, but Mulder's shoulder kept
her from seeing anything other than the white of the room's walls.
Mulder noted the furrow in Scully's brow that had formed there without
her consent. He commented with a question. "Something wrong, Scully?"

Scully removed her eyes from the wall of Fowley's room, placing her gaze
on Mulder's shoulder, and then dropping her eyes, staring at his feet.
"No," she said, forcing herself to look up at him then. "No," she
repeated with more confidence. She looked into his eyes. Scully felt her
lips trying to form the smile that prior to that day she had not known
was also practiced by Diana Fowley.

Silence was practically visible in the hallway for a few moments, like
heat waves on a hot day; a third, mean-spirited being.

Scully watched Mulder's eyes as they found the flowers in her hand. He
looked back up at Scully's face quickly, something like shame flickering
in his eyes for a split second. "Am I allowed inquire as to why you
thought you needed to come here?" Mulder asked.

"Agent Fowley was working with us on this case," Scully said, simply
stating a fact rather than really answering his question.

Mulder acted as though neither of them had spoken following his
departure from Fowley's room. Almost in attempt to start the
conversation over, he asked, "Anything on who might have taken Gibson?"

Scully blinked slowly. She kept her voice low as she answered, "We think
that it might be someone close to the FBI." Scully dropped her eyes for
the umpteenth time, pursing her lips. Her stomach churned painfully as
her memory recalled the image of Gibson Praise's face, his old man's
eyes behind his small glasses, his young voice innocently declaring the
goings-on in the three agents' minds.

'You're wondering...'

It was wonder, Scully confirmed. At first she'd thought that what she
was feeling was worry, but with Gibson's statement Scully had realized
that all she was experiencing was curiosity in an uncommon abundance. It
really wasn't any of her business, Scully knew, but she felt as though a
secret were being kept from her, held securely in Mulder and Fowley's
past together. And what purpose would letting her in on the secret
serve, Scully asked herself. She shook her head. It was not her
business, and she shouldn't concern herself with it.

"What are you thinking?" Mulder asked gently.

It was the worst possible question someone could have asked her right
then; she couldn't possibly give an honest answer. Scully shut her eyes,
bringing her free hand to her face, molding it to the curve of her
cheek. She rubbed her fingers over her eyelid and then tapped them
lightly against her temple. "Nothing," she said, not looking at Mulder.
Scully let her hand fall back her to her side, leaving her fingers to
hang limply, their tips brushing lightly against her skirt.

"Jesus, Scully..." Mulder muttered, dropping his head back and staring
at the ceiling.

"What?" she snapped defensively, pouncing on him with her eyes.

Mulder moved his chin down, taking his sweet time meeting her gaze.
"You've been really...," he chose his words carefully, almost
apologetically, obviously not wanting an explosion from her end of the
conversation, "quiet... on this case."

"And?" Scully asked, her tone fierce. Inside she was stunned by her own
emotions, amazed at how easily her voice and face turned hurt to anger.

Mulder shrugged. "I'm just curious as to what it means."

Scully's eyes widened, shocked and enraged, flashing at Mulder like blue
flames. "It has to mean something?" she snapped. "I can't just be quiet?"

When Mulder didn't respond to her anger, Scully continued, "You know,
Mulder, silence doesn't make something 'deep'; sometimes it's just
silence. I think you'd have a much easier time seeing the truth if you
weren't always twisting the obvious!"

Mulder stared deep, down into her eyes. His gaze made Scully feel as
though she'd been violated somehow. "Okay, Scully," Mulder said calmly.
"How much love do you want?"

"What?" Scully's mouth remained agape after the word had made it across
her lips, as she realized that despite Mulder's attempt to fire without
aiming, he had hit the target dead-on.

"How much love?" Mulder repeated with a certainty of himself and his
words that kindled her anger. "You're pretty tough, so maybe you only
need a little bit. I don't know." Mulder was cool as a cucumber as he
continued to peer quizzically into his partner's eyes.

"What are you talking about?" Scully asked, shaking her head in attempt
to convey bewilderment.

"Isn't that why you're here? Isn't that what you're talking about?
You're not here for Diana, or because this has anything to do with a
case... You're not here because you and I work on the X-files together,
Scully. You're here for love."

Scully closed her mouth, and began to shake her head in denial as Mulder
continued, "It's love, isn't it? You want love, and you want attention."
He challenged her then; "Don't you?"

Scully took the challenge, but felt a crack form in her armor. "That
would be nice," she said dryly. The crack branched out, spreading.

"Well," Mulder told her, "I think I may be able to spare some."

Scully sighed, looking back down at her feet, and then over at the door
at the end of the hallway. "Okay," she said, defeated. Scully turned her
face back, looking at her partner once more. "Is this checkmate, Mulder?
What now?" she asked, her eyes scanning his for an answer. None came.
"Game's over," she informed him sternly.

"How's that?" he asked elfishly.

"How do you think?" she replied, as though he'd asked the world's most
moronic question. At that moment in her mind, he had. It was clear to
her that there was nothing more for them to do right then.

"I don't know, Scully!" Mulder lifted his hands helplessly. "I have no
clue! I know you're probably--"

"Whoa, hey!" Scully cut him off, holding up an accusing finger. "What do
you know? No, you don't, and I'll tell you why. You can't say you 'know'
because you have very little on me, Mulder."

This time, when he replied, Scully heard exasperation in his voice. "Is
there something you would like to share with me then, Scully? So that I
may have a better understanding of your very 'unique' position, here?
Does it make you weak if you admit that you depend on someone? A man,
Scully? -- are you afraid of putting your faith in a man?"

Scully dropped her chin as low as it would go, staring down at her
chest. "This is stupid," she breathed. "Really stupid."

Scully closed her eyes, and for a moment, her mind took her away and she
was no longer standing in the hospital; she was floating through a silky
black nothingness, like a night sky without stars. She abandoned all of
her conflicting and painful feelings, her shame and the horror of being
exposed. She drew her being into a little ball, winding herself smaller
and smaller, tighter and tighter...

Mulder's finger under her chin brought her back. Mulder's large
fingertip pressed slowly into the flesh between her chin and the
beginning of her neck, forcing Scully to turn her face up. She kept her
eyes closed as long as she could, trying to clear them of any emotions
that might have been written there.

When Scully lifted her eyelids, she saw Mulder staring at her, embracing
her with his eyes.

"Nobody else knows, Scully," Mulder told her tenderly.

She ignored him, cocking her head to the side just slightly.

Mulder's hand circled her wrist, pulling her further into the moment.
The hand-hold was not mutual, however; Scully's fingers hung, seemingly
lifeless between them. "No one knows, Scully," Mulder repeated.

"Your knowledge is the result of a lucky guess, Agent Mulder," she
informed him as heartlessly as possible. But Scully made no move to free
herself from his grasp. She didn't move at all; not towards him, not
away from him. Scully felt her body waiting to be told what to do.

Mulder ducked his head in then, slowly closing the distance between
their mouths.

Scully still didn't move, her eyes turning to ice as she watched his
face come towards her. "What are you doing?" She'd intended the question
to be strong, firm and commanding. Instead, it came out as a hushed whisper.

Mulder wasn't deterred at all by her inquiry. He seemed to be encouraged
by it, saying nothing.

Scully turned her face away from him. "Don't," she told him.

"Why not?" Mulder asked, his voice soft. Despite his question, however,
he backed up a little. "You're sure you know what I'm thinking, Scully.
Don't you want confirmation of that theory?"

"No," she whispered, turning further away from him. As she tried to
twist her wrist away from him, Scully felt Mulder's fingers tighten.

His question was more forceful this time. "Why not?"

Scully gave Mulder her first completely honest, unadulterated reply of
their entire conversation. She wasn't sure what made her say it, but
before her brain had thought about the meaning of her words, she had
answered firmly, "I don't need you to encourage me."

With that, Mulder's fingers released her wrist, but his voice pulled her
back. "Scully." He said her name before she could take even a single step.

As Scully turned, she felt Mulder's lips press steadfastly against hers
in an unanticipated but not unwelcome kiss that would have stolen her
breath had she not surrendered it willingly.

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The End
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