"Tonight" by Marie Endres

joemimi@prodigy.net

Classification: MS Angst; MSR

Rating: G

Spoilers: "Rush"

Summary: Post-Ep for "Rush"

Scully believes it may be all over

before it even began thanks to four

little words from Mulder.

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully

aren't mine. They belong to Chris

Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox

Broadcasting. Also this piece is

not intended as advertising for

Binney & Smith, either. You'll

figure that one out later.

Thank you's forever to Jill Selby-

for being my first reader and for

your encouragement. Also thank you

to Georgia for the being the best

beta reader ever!

Tonight, I put my words to paper-

to still them, to steel myself. I

long for grounding, for my usual

ability to make sense of "the

facts," facts which I truly do not

wish to see. My calling seems to be

to debunk, to find the loopholes.

Tonight, however, I would give

anything to shirk my

responsibilities.

From the moment I met you, I have

been the one to point out what

seems to be readily apparent, the

answer which seems to be staring us

down. You have been the one with

magic in your reply, the one to

hope for extreme possibilities.

Today, we changed hands, and I am

crushed. I have seen much, faced

much, in the past six years with

you and never have I felt defeat as

I do now, for now I do not have the

strength of your belief.

Your words today were sparse, no

long diatribe of feeling and

emotion to cut through my heart.

There were just four of them, only

one was more than one syllable in

length. You would think that after

life and death struggles, threats

of global annihilation, cancer,

four little words tumbling from

your lips would be inconsequential.

Yet the consequences were readily

apparent to me, and with that

realization, my hope came

fluttering down like so many pieces

of confetti in Times Square on New

Years.

That image coming to my mind brings

back so many others- other moments

when completion and joy seemed

within our grasp; when you found a

way to make me stay when all I

wanted to do was flee and quit,

when I didn't know what to believe

anymore and you convinced me to

believe in the truth that was right

in front of us, each time you made

the difference in my journey. It

was a journey that brought us to

the closing of a century when

everything seemed possible after

you ever so gently touched your

lips to mine.

Could you blame me, therefor, when

today I became a little anxious to

see where this new path would lead

us, why I became a little impatient

with our "slow pokin'" around? I

still cannot believe I actually put

into spoken words my frustration,

that is not part of the carefully

constructed me who the world sees.

You have always seen a part of me,

though, that no one else has. I

know in my mind that your reply was

based on the case at hand, but my

heart heard otherwise. My face

registered what was stirred in my

depths, churned by the slam of your

response: "Maybe we're too old."

A soft knock followed by the words,

"Scully, are you awake?" caused me

to drop my pen in mid-punctuation.

I could not, would not, let him

find these words as he had others.

These were too painful, too

pathetic. I quickly shoved the

yellow legal pad under the bed as I

answered, "Yes, hang on."

I walked slowly to the door of our

adjoining room, wondering what

would bring Mulder to my side of it

at this late hour. As the door

swung open, he quickly moved past

me.

"Mulder, you look pale. You don't

think you could be experiencing

some aftereffect of being in that

cave today, do you?" I asked

searching for some reason for his

late night visit. His eyes were

looking about for something,

probably a place to sit, when I

noticed a small bag from the hotel

gift shop in his hand.

"Scully, I brought you something,"

he quietly said as he offered me

the bag. I took it and then sat

down on the bed, the only available

place. He sat down on the floor

next to it, watching me intently. I

looked in the bag , first, before

reaching for its contents. There,

nestled in the pink paper bag, was

a familiar yellow and green box.

"Crayola crayons, Mulder?" I said

incredulously as I held them in

front of me for both our perusals.

I could feel my eyebrow beginning

to rise.

"Yeah, a study was done in which

people were asked to remember the

most familiar scents of their

childhood and people over and over

again named the smell of a newly

opened box of Crayola crayons. You

see, in there is all the wonder of

youth, all the possibilities, all

the chances and choices to make the

world as you want it to be. Go

ahead, Scully, open it, " he said

as an invitation.

I hadn't realized it, but as he was

giving me his explanation for the

unique gift which I held in my

hands, he had moved to a kneeling

position right next to me and had

entwined his fingers with mine

around the box. I had no choice,

therefor, when his hand began to

"help" me open the box. I also

seemed to not have a choice in

closing my eyes to better drink in

the scent wafting up at me.

"Scully," he was beginning to

whisper as he rose up closer to me,

" I couldn't possibly allow you to

think that youth was out of reach,

even for us. I'm sorry if I led you

to think I felt otherwise." With

that, his hand closed tightly

around mine, almost swallowing it

with intensity, and I turned my

head to meet his lips.

Our kiss at midnight on New Years

was sweet, quiet, innocent.

Tonight, however, I believe all of

the feelings, all of the need,

which we desired to convey, was in

this kiss. At first languid, it

began to build in intensity. As our

lips both consumed and sustained

the other, the giving and taking of

breath seemed so natural. I could

feel the life within him which was

my own, my true life-line. Before I

completed this revelatory thought,

however, he broke our kiss I was

left trying to steady myself when

he spoke in a hoarse, ragged voice:

"Scully, I need you to know that I

did not come here tonight to seduce

you. I mean if by some chance I get

that lucky, great." His familiar

smirk and leer somehow comforted me

even if the remark did catch me a

bit off guard. He continued, "When

I saw your face fall in that

hallway, today, it scared me. I

wished I could have said just the

right thing to assure you of me and

what you mean to me, but of course

I didn't." He lowered his eyes and

voice as he spoke. " I still don't

know quite what to say, but I just

couldn't let it go. I need to know

that everything is all right."

My hand reached out to caress his

stubbled cheek, my eyes speaking

before my words. "Mulder, don't you

know that you are my youth? You are

my wonder and my possibilities?

Apart from you the world, my world

is too old. But together…," I left

the phrase dangling between us as

an offering.

Taking my hand once more in his,

pressing his forehead to mine, he

ever so quietly whispered, "Maybe

we're not too old after all."

END

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