Title: Declarations

Author: Kashmir
evermore73@yahoo.com 
Summary: Mulder and Scully are forced to confront
their feelings for one another due to the
assessment of Phillip Padgett.

Spoiler: Post-Milagro

Rating: NC-17. VRA, MSR Not for the kiddies.
Explicit description.

Disclaimer: The characters included in this story
belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and
Twentieth Century Fox. They do not belong to me
and will not be used as a means of gaining any
monetary reward. The poem excerpt is under the
copyright of Robert Wrigley and is quoted here
from a recent issue of Poets and Writers. The
poem does not belong to me and the act of quoting
it will not be used as a means of gaining any
monetary value.

Comments: Welcome. Send to: Evermore73@Yahoo.com


Declarations

"Let us be candles
melted to a single wax. Let us be tangled
at dawn
and lick awake the lids of each other's
salty eyes
and rise -
to welcome the daily fire."
---Robert Wrigley


The words kept circling inside her head,
"Agent Scully is already in love," like a
statement she wasn't willing to understand; a
notion she was unable to comprehend. Scully
had always been too pragmatic to entertain
something so foolish, something so damaging,
something that could possibly ruin the only
significant and meaningful relationship she
had in her life. Why would she jeopardize six
years of partnership for something as
transient as love?
She didn't have the nerve to meet Mulder's
expression that day in the prison corridor.
She imagined his face to wear a look either
composed of confusion or disbelief. She
hadn't the courage to explain to him something
she barely understood herself and she was
grateful that he didn't press the issue.

"Agent Scully is already in love." The
infernal statement rolled like a wave of
endless proportion through the folds of her
mind - crashing upon a limitless shore. The
hours of self-examination she withstood left
her exhausted from coursing the drifts of her
internal swell, often swept up in its
undertow. The sea would sometimes calm,
expelling her onto the sands of its shoreline
with a modicum of useless knowledge, bits of
which she was yet unable to piece together.

The pieces added up until they were numberless
and she was left with the impossible task of
putting them together into a coherent whole.
"Agent Scully is already in love." Phillip
Padgett was correct in his assessment.

This newfound certainty did not fill her with
the feelings often associated with love. One
the contrary, she was more miserable and
troubled, often pondering if the entire notion
were possible or if Padgett had merely planted
the idea in her mind through the act of
suggestion.

As a test of self-inspection, she tried to
imagine her life without her partner. This
did not prove an easy task. Mulder was so
much a part of her world that her life would
seem far emptier without his presence. There
were moments when just his presence alone was
a tremendous source of comfort; other times
when his presence was insufferable - yet he
remained the single most important man in her
life.

She often thought he had replaced her father
in certain ways. Their arguments and
disagreements about the topics their work
broached often gave her the need to defend her
beliefs, and she was sure he must have felt
the same. Yet, he was so unlike her father.
In fact, she was certain her father would have
disliked him greatly.

After all the life threatening situations her
work on the X-Files had put her through, she
would not have changed a thing - for the pure
and simple fact that Mulder was in her life.
He filled a void inside her she hadn't
realized was there. For a long time now, she
felt contentment just being with him that no
previous attachment seemed to have. Their
bond was beyond the realm of sex, beyond the
confines of lust - it satisfied those needs in
a way that was incomprehensible, inexplicable.
It was deeper than the physical trappings of
most relationships - deeper and more
fulfilling and she had no other word to liken
it to but the pure and simple - love.
"Agent Scully is already in love." Yes. It
was clear. With this admission grew a
responsibility, not so much to Mulder, but to
herself. She vowed to never let anything
trivialize her feelings. She wouldn't dare
jeopardize what she felt for Mulder with the
foolish need for declaration. She wouldn't
darn what didn't need mending. She loved.
That was sacrifice enough.
***
Agent Mulder used the exercise of running to
help clear his mind; a method by which to free
himself from the entanglement of his thoughts.
It wasn't working this time.

"Agent Scully is already in love." He played
the scene over and over in his head, so much
so that he wasn't completely sure if he was
unwittingly changing aspects about it to gain
his advantage. Padgett had looked him
straight in the eye when he uttered the
statement. The eye contact led him to assume
that he was the object of Scully's affections.
Was Padgett right in his assessment? Or had
he merely confused signals he was receiving as
a product of rejection? Mulder wasn't sure
which of these options was accurate.

"Agent Scully is already in love." Again the
statement appeared in his head, so suddenly,
that it stopped him in his tracks. Winded, he
bent slightly to rest his hands on his knees,
trying to catch his breath. Of what
consequence was it to him if Scully was in
love? Was he so arrogant to assume it was he?
Yet, he wasn't sure he could deal with the
fact if it wasn't him. This previous
unrealized knowledge tumbled him over the
edge.

In the six years that Scully and he had been
partnered, he took a kind of selfish pleasure
in the fact that her social calendar seemed as
empty as his own. He had chalked it off to
the demands of their work, but he was
beginning to realize, at least on his part,
that this was not so. Demanding as the job
was, he took solace in knowing that Scully was
part of his daily existence. He knew he
functioned better when she was around. He had
likened that merely to a good professional
pairing. Now he was beginning to realize this
was nonsense.

How many times had he refused to confront his
feelings for Scully? He couldn't count.
Unwilling to jeopardize what they had because
of some ridiculous, unnamed need. She was so
much a part of his life - so much... His mind
drifted to one thought alone. He was certain,
even if she wasn't in love with him, that he
was incorrigibly in love with her. The belief
was too strong to deny.

Mulder was often impulsive in his work, why
should he be any different in his personal
life. He was sure the steam from the shower
had fogged his mind, but he refused to
question his instincts when he dressed in
haste and left his apartment, bent on reaching
Georgetown as quickly as he could.

His destination reached, he stood in front of
Scully's door hesitant. This was stupid, at
best. He was about to walk away when the door
opened. "Fate", he thought. "Or maybe it was
free will." Either way, Scully was standing
before him just as surprised as he.

"Mulder," she said with some shock in her
tone.

"Did I come at a bad time?" Was all he could
mange.

"No. I was just going to take out my garbage.
It can wait. Come on in." She stepped aside
and held the door open. He walked inside,
hearing the door close behind him as he did.
Scully could sense Mulder's tension. The air
was electric around him. She knew something
was up.

"I would have called first, but I..." Seeing as
excuses were futile, "...I didn't."

Scully's mouth rose in a subtle smirk. She
let out a small laugh. "That's a new one."
She could see he felt foolish. He was
different somehow. She was sure it was
because of her newly attained knowledge. He
appeared before her in a way she couldn't
describe. "So, Mulder, come clean. What's
the real reason you're here? Frohike uncover
a new way of looking at the Zapruda footage or
did you acquire a new alien autopsy video?"

Another time he would rebuke her for that, but
now his mind was filled with a distinct
purpose. He needed to know. It was slowly
driving him insane. If he had a chance to
openly love this woman, he needed to take it -
if only to save his soul. "We need to talk."
He loosed himself out of his jacket and threw
it on the sofa. He stepped into the sitting
area and sat down on the loveseat.

Scully was intrigued. She had known Mulder to
be impulsive; she had known him to be forcibly
distant, but this was new. This was unlike
him in so many ways. "Okay." She said and
sat down next to him. "About what?"

"Something about what Padgett said keeps
coming back to me." He couldn't meet her
gaze. Her body tensed; she swallowed had.
She wasn't ready for this, if this was indeed
really happening.

"What?" She heard herself ask. Something
else was in control; her own volition had
exited her senses.

"What do you think he meant when he said that
you were already in love?"

Her volition returned. "I haven't thought
about it much." A lie.

He nodded, seeming wounded somehow. This
wasn't part of the plan.

"That isn't the truth." She muttered the
confession. He looked at her. "I've thought
about it a lot."

He took a deep breath. "And?" What did he
want from her? A declaration? Wasn't that
something she was unwilling to give him?
Wasn't she entitled to keep that to herself?

"And...I -" Mulder hung there on her words. She
let go. "I think he's right."

Halfway there. He should have known her to
string him along. Perhaps she was cushioning
the blow. How would he deal with hearing
another man's name on her lips? Regardless,
he needed to know. He searched her eyes.
"May I ask who?"

She was slightly taken aback. "I think you
know."

Denial. "Do I?"

"Don't you?"

He wasn't in the mood for the back and forth
questioning often associated with their cases.
He began to feel frustrated. She sensed this
and backed down. A declaration to herself
would no longer suffice. "You, Mulder. I
love you."

He couldn't help it. He smiled. In the only
movement he could muster, he reached next to
him and sought out her hand. He held it,
caressing it gently. He looked downward and
brought her hand to his lips and kissed it
gently. "Padgett might have said the same
about me." She smiled as he leaned in to kiss
her and all shared insecurities and facades
fell away. When he took his lips from hers,
he whispered in her ear: "I love you, Scully.
I think I always have." And she thought she
might be dreaming.

She stood up and faced him. He seemed
rejected by this absence of their proximity.
He looked up at her. She extended her hand to
him, open and inviting. He searched her eyes
for a moment, then slipped his hand in hers.
She tugged him slightly, motioning for him to
stand up. When he had, she slowly led him
down the hallway to her bedroom, silent and
intent. He followed.

She released his hand when their destination
had been reached. She stood in front of him,
staring up into his eyes. She was searching
him for a sign of uncertainty or retreat, but
there was none. She could only assume that he
felt, as she did, that this was a natural
progression - that someday, no matter how much
they denied or refused to recognize their
feelings - they were meant to end up like
this.

She reached for the buttons fastened at the
top of his gray Henley. She began to slowly
unbutton them as he rested his hands on her
waist. She folded aside the flap of fabric
released from its fasteners and raised herself
on her toes to bring her lips to the tiny
portion of revealed flesh. He closed his eyes
when they had met their task, reveling in the
unbelievable feeling of her mouth on his skin.
He realized, with a deep understanding, how
long he had waited for this.

He began to tug upward on her shirt, releasing
it from the waistband of her pants. She
placed her hands over his and completed the
job herself, pulling the shirt over her head
in haste. Mulder was both surprised and
pleased to find her half-naked form revealed
to him. He was compelled to do the same. He
pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it
to the floor. She quickly seized his bare
flesh with her hands and began to run her
hands gently over his chest, down, ever
downward to the button binding the waistband
of his jeans. She undid the button and gently
unzipped them, sinking her hands underneath
the loosened fabric. She caressed the warm
and supple flesh encapsulating his lower
waist. He reached to enfold her in his arms,
caressing the smoothness of her back. He bent
downward to suckle at the flesh on her neck
while reaching in front to undo her pants.

She began to push down his jeans, slowly
revealing his form, perfect in every way. He
loosed himself out of the remainder of his
clothing and stood before her, naked, the most
beautiful man she had ever seen. He traced a
single finger down her chest, passing the
valley between her breasts, now swelling with
intensity. His finger traced over her stomach
and hit the barrier of her pants. She pushed
him gently down on the bed behind him. He
watched as she freed herself from the rest of
her clothing, dizzy from the sight of her bare
form before him. She was everything he
imagined she would be.

He reached out a hand to her. She took it and
stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his
chest and pushing him down to lay flat on the
bed as she covered his body with her small
frame. He caressed his hand down her waist to
her soft, supple thigh. She felt his arousal
harden and brush across her belly. The
feeling sent a shiver through her core
circling waves of pleasure toward her center.
She reached down between them to slip her hand
around his shaft. He emitted a small gasp and
a slight moan. She gently caressed him from
base to tip while covering his mouth with her
own. "My God," he thought, unable to
comprehend anything more intelligible, except
that he was beginning to wonder why they had
denied each other this limitless form of
ecstasy.

He rolled her onto her back and dipped his
head down to take one of her taut nipples into
his mouth. She gasped at the sensation and
brought her hands up to clutch his head,
running her fingers through his hair. His
hand rubbed circles on her belly, moving
downward, ever downward - teasing her with the
possibility of a sultrier destination. He
raised his head to capture her mouth, kissing
her deeply while continuing his southerly
caresses. Caught up between the glorious
feeling of his mouth on hers and the eroticism
the movements of his hand was suggesting, she
was lost in a whirl of unspeakable pleasure.
His hand slipped further, further into the
folds of her flesh and he found her extremely
aroused, swollen with readiness. He slipped
his hand between her thighs and gently moved
them apart. She complied by opening them
further. Never releasing her lips, he
positioned himself between her legs, gently
raising himself flush against her body to run
his shaft through her inviting folds. She
moaned and threw her head back in a flight of
arousal, arching her back with abandon.

He opened his eyes and looked down into her
flushed visage. She sensed his stare upon her
and opened her eyes to meet his gaze. His
eyes seemed to beg entreaty. She brought her
hand up to caress his cheek. She nodded
permission and lifted her head to seek his
lips. And he entered her, slowly, slowly,
slowly. They both let out soft moans of
pleasure, equally amazed by the sensation of
union. He filled her completely, the feeling
unlike any experience that she had had in the
past. She was drunk by the desire to have him
this close for eternity.

He began to move within her. Slow, long, deep
strokes. He wanted to memorize each
sensation, each soft moan she emitted. She
brought her legs around his lower thighs,
wrapping them around, thus bringing him deeper
within her. They both cried out. His
movements became quicker, urged on by her
desire. She was close to the edge, dizzy and
intoxicated by the swelling eroticism. He
held back, with purposeful desire. He didn't
want this to end. He slipped nearly all the
way out of her and then slowly back in.
Repeating this motion several times, exerting
the most self-control he could muster.

She was there now. With one more stroke she
tumbled over the edge, moaning his name in a
frenzied state. She clutched onto his back,
unable to come down from the drug-like state.
Within sheer moments, he erupted as well,
driving a final deep stroke within her, which
made her shudder with pure thrill. He
released and stiffened, calling her name in a
stifled moan and planting his mouth over hers
for a final seal of their union.

They recovered in each other's arms, silent.
Aside from the whispered declarations of love,
no words could ever describe the emotions
dwelling within their souls. Unbeknownst to
the other, they each internally swore to obey
the demands this relationship would require.
Unwilling to sacrifice this bond for anything
and filled with a contentment each of them had
never known before.

--Finis...