Archive of Our Own ^beta

She busied herself in the kitchen prepping for dinner. She finished chopping the salad and set bout making a dressing. She stirred the pasta sauce she had made earlier which was simmering on a low heat and moved to set the table for two.

He hadn’t told her he would be coming but she knew that he was.

She was glad he had convinced her to take this leave of absence. ‘I need to work’ she had said, ‘No,’ he had insisted ‘you need to let yourself feel this, or it will eat you alive’ she had tried to argue and he had shut it down. ‘Emotions make you vulnerable in the field Scully, I’m not going to allow you to put yourself at risk. It’s not open for discussion. Take some time’. She had been angry at the time, but he had been right. She never permitted herself this, the right to fall apart and be human; her sense of self so tied up in her ability to be strong. Sometimes she thought he knew her better than she knew herself. She had been able to wallow in her grief and sort through the tidal wave of emotions threatening to overwhelm her as a result of this, the most heart-breaking of losses. For a few short weeks she had been a mother; she had watched her daughter decline, come to the realisation that what lay before that little girl was no life at all and she had let her go. She hadn’t even been permitted to lay her to rest in the ground, her daughter’s tiny perfect body, her own flesh and blood had been stolen from her.

Scully knew she would never be the same.

So did he.

Her Mom had hovered. When they returned from San Diego she had constantly checked in. She would arrive and want to open the proverbial shutters and let in the light, she would suggest getting out, going for lunch, getting her hair done. Scully didn't want the light, she wanted to hide away in solitude in the darkness and hold back the world. She wanted the quiet and peace she could only find in the shadows. In the end she had asked her for space to grieve. She knew she had hurt her feelings, she knew she meant well but her Mom simply couldn’t understand. Emily had been genetically her grandchild but she had no relationship with her and Maggie didn’t even really understand how she came to be. Her mother wanted to be there for Dana, support her daughter but she didn’t feel the loss the way she did. She had no stake in this grief.

Maggie wanted to make it better. Right now nothing would.

Mulder on the other hand just got it. He had taken a vacation day the first day they got back to DC. He had sat beside her on the sofa and watched chick flicks holding her hand. At some point she had ended up with her head on his lap and he had stroked her hair softly. He had ordered Chinese that he knew she probably wouldn’t eat but had tried to encourage a few mouthfuls. That night he had stayed the night and held her as she cried herself to sleep. She had slept with her head on his shoulder as he held back the Tsunami of pain and grief threatened to wash her away.

They hadn’t spoken of it since but something had shifted between them.

He had returned to the office the next day, kissing her on the forehead as he left for work. They hadn’t planned it but she knew he was coming back that evening; and so he had and every evening since. There was no pretence as there usually was when they did this; neither of them making an excuse, needing to pick up a file or go over some notes. He wanted to be here with her so he just came. She wanted him here so she accepted it. He hadn’t stayed the night again though she wished that he would. Every evening she had tried to pluck up the courage to ask him to stay, every evening she couldn’t. She would stay silent as he walked out the door feeling bereft and as though she had been cut adrift in a tumultuous tide. It would change things between them, drawing things long unspoken out into the light.

She wanted to, but she was scared to upset the status quo and part of her worried about the timing. Would she be doing it because she was ready or because of what had happened? She couldn’t answer that with any honesty.

She had felt loss before, she had grieved before… but this? The loss of the child she hadn’t even known existed; this had floored her. She felt as if her entire world had crumbled into rubble around her. The only thing left standing was him and the quiet reassurance of his presence. He didn’t really try to do anything, he was just quietly there, feeling it with her and that was enough. She never wanted him to leave.

She felt it coming off him in waves when she was in his company; his own quiet grief at the loss of that beautiful child. He had told her his fear of her pursuing the adoption but he had helped her anyway, without question. There was such tenderness in his gaze when he looked at her, at Emily, at her little girl. ‘Who will keep you safe?’  he had said. She knew the answer, they both did. She suspected that if things had been different they would have been doing it together.

Raising her.

 The self-imposed boundaries that he had erected between them at the start of their partnership, when it seemed they had been getting too close were at the lowest they had ever been. At the very beginning it had been open and dare she say even flirtatious and then at some point before her abduction the walls had gone up, she never really knew why. ‘I even made my parents call me Mulder’ and from then on they had lived in this constant push and pull, drawn together and then rebuilding boundaries.

Until she got sick.

The cancer had levelled the walls between them almost completely. There was something about the knowledge that she was going to die that had blown them apart. The tension between them that was always kept hidden and contained was unleashed and undeniable. They had slept together once; she had found him in her bedroom in the dark, a body lying on Mulders apartment floor and a plan hatched to find answers. It had been slow and intense and they hadn’t mentioned it since, though the walls had never really been rebuilt.

It was always there bubbling under the surface.

She heard his key in the lock, the door open and shut and his keys thrown to the side table. She didn’t turn, she knew it was him.

He came up behind her at the stove where she was stirring the pasta.

“Smells good” he said softly “What are we having?”

“Penne arrabiata” she replied.

“My favourite,” he replied placing a kiss to the back of her head.

“I know.”

He handed her a bottle of wine, Sauvignon Blanc, her choice. Mulder was a chardonnay man.

“Nice,” she said “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing,” he replied “I just thought it would be nice”

She nodded and lifted down two wine glasses and placed them on the table.

“How long?” he asked

“ten minutes”

He nodded “I need to get out of this suit,” he said pulling at his tie and undoing his top two buttons “Is it ok if I have a shower?”

“Course, you don’t need to ask. Bad day?”

“Not really,” he replied running his hands through his hair and then stretching his shoulders and neck “Long, a lot of paperwork. Meeting with Skinner and then the quarterly budget review. You know how I love those. Glad it’s Friday.”

She nodded and he brushed his hand against her arm as he turned and headed into the bathroom.

It was nice she thought, as awful as everything was at the moment that they had found this little domestic rhythm; her making dinner, him in the shower. It felt right. It was the only thing that did at the moment.

He emerged towel drying his hair in jeans and a grey t-shirt as she was plating up dinner. He moved to the drawer and grabbed a corkscrew opening the wine. He passed her a glass; it was cool, crisp and fresh. The slight burn at the back of her throat was a welcome sensation.

As they ate he filled her in on the highlights of the budget meeting “we need to spend less money” he had said, she chuckled “We’ve not managed it yet.” She replied.

She told him about her conversation with her mother, that Maggie had wanted to take her to lunch and had been upset when she said no. She wanted to get her out, she didn’t want to go.

He nodded. “Try not to be angry with her, she’s just trying to help you. She means well,” he said and Scully nodded.

He didn’t tell her that he too had spoken to Maggie Scully earlier today, that her Mom had been upset and worried after speaking to Dana on the phone. “She won’t let me help her Fox,” Maggie had said.

“You just need to give her time,” he had reassured her, “It’s not you, she just needs to feel it Maggie. It’s not something we can make better.”

“I’m so worried about her,” she had said “It’s not healthy.”

“I know. It is healthy though; you know how she bottles things up. For once she’s actually giving herself time. I know you just want her to feel better, it’s natural, she’s your baby. But she needs to feel the loss of hers. I’ll call tomorrow and let you know how she is?”

He promised that he would.

They cleared the plates and he dried as she washed in companionable silence.

They grabbed their glasses and he picked up the bottle and they headed to the living room. She lit a fire and turned off all the lights but the lamp in the kitchen before returning to the sofa and sitting by his side, the smallest of distances between them. She had given up the pretence of sitting at the other end of the couch days ago. She wanted to be near him, he wanted to be near her, it was why he was here. He grabbed the remote and began flicking through the channels. She bought her wine to her lips and turned to study his face, there were the faintest of dark circles beneath his eyes, he hadn’t been sleeping well either.

She didn’t know what made her do it but she reached out and took his hand.

He turned to look at her.

“You ok?” he asked softly entwining his fingers with hers.

She nodded “I don’t know, as ok as I can be I guess,” he squeezed her hand softly “I feel better now you’re here.”

“Me too,” he replied.

He continued to flick through the channels. “Slim pickings this evening”

“It’s ok, turn it off” she said softly. “We could just talk,”

He nodded and hit the stand by button and the screen went black.

“Something on your mind?” he asked

She nodded. “I dunno all of this has just made me think about things,” she said softly “I think I’ve made a few mistakes the last few years.”

“Haven’t we all Scully? That’s just life. Hidsight is a wonderful thing”

She nodded and raised her glass to her lips.

“I was pregnant once you know,” she said meeting his gaze. He smiled sadly and raised the knuckles of their entwined hands to his lips. “I had a miscarriage at ten weeks.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly “that must have been really hard.”

She nodded “It was. I didn’t have any support really,”

“The father wasn’t there for you?” Mulder asked, trying to keep his voice impassive.

“He took me to the hospital,” she said softly “he didn’t stay; his daughter had a piano recital. He was married he needed to pick up his wife.” She looked down at her hands “I had some complications so I had to stay overnight and then I got a cab home in the morning”

Mulder tried not to let the shock show on his face, he couldn’t imagine Scully part of an extra-marital affair. His Scully whose moral compass seemed to always show true north, he was surprised. Strong as she was, he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to go through that alone.

“What an asshole” he said.

“I knew he was married, I was one too.” She said softly. “He was my attending, I was a resident.”

Mulder nodded. “It happens when you work together so closely,” he said meeting her eyes. “doesn’t it?” the unspoken layers of meaning hanging in the air between them.

“In a way, I had made my peace with it because I think it shocked me to my senses,” he watched her face as the flickering light from the fire danced over her hair. “It was so stupid. I don’t even really need to tell you what happened, it was the cliché of it all. He would tell me he was going to leave her, and then something would happen and he didn’t. I would accept it, and wait, and wait. When I got pregnant I kind of thought it might bring it to a head, make him finally leave” She shook her head derisively “I don’t even recognise that girl now. Losing the baby and knowing that even when I was in hospital I couldn’t be the priority… I had to get out.”

“I’m so sorry,” Mulder said softly “The thought that you went through that all alone...”

She smiled “Its ok,” she said softly, “We wouldn’t be here now if it didn’t happen. It’s what made me give up medicine and join the FBI. I’d made my peace with it that it happened for a reason. Now? I don’t know, I always thought there would be another chance. Another baby,”

He lifted his arm and pulled her into him, wrapping an arm around her shoulder she settled against his chest, her fist grabbing a handful of his  T-shirt.

“You never know,” he said softly.

She nodded “I feel like I’m grieving for Emily and it’s just brought up a lot of things I thought I had moved past.”

“I think that’s only natural.” He replied.

“I never imagined that I wouldn’t be a mother.” She stated softly “It doesn’t look very likely now.”

He rubbed her arm softly.

They sat and watched the fire. They never really talked like this. It was nice. He took a sip of his wine.

“Phoebe had a termination when we were twenty-one, just before our last break up; that was pretty shitty”

“I didn’t know that,” she said softly.

“It was the right thing, we were too young and our relationship was so dysfunctional. It was her decision; her body, her choice. I supported her in what she wanted. I was kind of relieved actually, and that made me feel pretty guilty.”

“Well you weren’t very good for one another,” she said “I can't imagine the idea of being tied together forever was exactly welcome.”

“No,” he said “I wasn’t even really completely sure it was mine. She said it was, but you never really knew with Phoebe. It did make me quite clear on the idea that I didn’t want children”

She looked at him. “You’re great with kids; it’s a little surprising to be honest”

“I don’t know, I think it kind of makes sense when you think about it. I’d had such a contentious relationship with my family I kind of didn’t want to emulate that.”

“You’d be a much better Dad than yours,” she said softly.

“That wouldn’t be too hard,” he chuckled. He took another sip and then took a deep breath; he was going to tell her. It had never been a secret, but it had never come up and the longer it didn’t the more of a big deal it had felt now it felt like the sword of damocles hanging over them. He had started to worry that if he didn't tell her himself she might find out through some other means and that would be far worse. Now was the time, the opportunity had finally presented itself. “I was so set on the idea of not having children it contributed to the end of my marriage.”

She lifted her head and looked at him.

“You were married?” she asked incredulously “How long?”

“It was stupid, and very short lived. Six months from wedding to decree absolute.”

“How do I not know this?” she shook her head.

“When we first met it was pretty fresh and I didn’t like to talk about it. It never really came up later on and then the longer it was I hadn’t told you the harder it was to say. It wasn’t a lie, I wasn’t hiding it; it just never really came up”

“I can’t believe I don’t know this. Why wouldn’t you have told me?” she looked confused and hurt.

“She was my partner, before you.”

“Oh,” she answered realisation dawning, this was the reason he put those walls up in the beginning. Kept her at a distance despite how hard they had to work at it, fighting the natural pull between him. She recalled a conversation in a car on a stake out ‘I wouldn’t put myself on the line for anyone but you’ this was why he didn’t want her to call him Fox.

“What’s her name?” she asked softly.

“Diana.”

“Where is she now?”

“Europe, she got a promotion into international terrorism and she left. She wanted me to go with her and I wouldn’t leave the X-files. She said she’d stay if we could start a family and I didn’t want that either. So she left. She said I didn't want to be her husband really, I just married her to keep her there. I was angry at the time but I think she was right. We finished on pretty bad terms actually”

“I don’t know what to say,”

“It’s ok, I look back now and think it all happened for the right reasons. I’m not even really sure that I loved her, at least not enough to marry her. Not now I know how that really feels. Our relationship was all about the x-files. They took the priority.”

Scully nodded “They always do.”

“Not anymore,” he said softly placing a kiss to her hairline.

A long moment of silence hung between them, both aware of the subtext of his words. What he was saying without speaking the words.

“Do you still feel that way? About having children?”

“No, I think I just hadn’t met the right person”

“What changed?”

“Seeing you with Emily; that little girl Scully…” He shook his head. “She was so beautiful, I could see you the second I saw her. She was all you, and the look on your face when you were with her… I don’t know? Something changed.”

Silent tears started to stream down her face.

“I’m sorry Dana,” he said brushing her tears away with his thumbs, “I didn’t mean to upset you,”

“You didn’t,” she replied “It’s such a beautiful thing to say Mulder.”

“It’s true. I’d have loved that little girl like she was my own you know?” he said pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m sorry I can’t make this better, I really wish I could”

The tears had descended into violent sobs that wracked her body. Suddenly she couldn’t get close enough; she wanted to melt into him. She climbed into his lap, her legs straddling his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head against his shoulder and wept, every inch of her body pressed to his. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to him, kissing her hair.

“let it out, It’s ok” he whispered over and over again.

As the sobs slowly died away she looked up at him and her gaze locked with his own tear stained eyes and she knew.

Now was the moment when they finally addressed the elephant in the room. The thing they both knew but neither ever said.

“I love you,” she whispered pressing her forehead to his.

“I know,” he replied “I love you too.”

Their lips met hungrily as they had done the last time all those months ago. She laced her fingers through his hair pulling him into her. His hand found its way to the hem of her shirt and his fingers tentatively found their way under the fabric to the soft skin at her back. She pulled back and met his eyes again before grabbing her shirt and lifting it over her head.

She sat before him, straddling him in nothing but a slightly sheer black lace bra, her nipples peeking through the gossamer fabric. He firelight casting a warm glow over her alabaster skin and he knew he would never see anything so beautiful. He reached over and ran his hand across her collarbone and down her side, fingertips gliding softly over the swell of her breast, the sensitive skin at her ribs and into the dip at her waist.

He reached behind her head and pulled her back to him, crushing her lips to his, his tongue flicking across her lower lip softly seeking entry which she willingly gave. He felt momentarily light headed as he felt his blood rush south. For the first time in weeks he was in the moment, the ghost of a tiny face no longer burned to the backs of his eyes. For the first time in weeks it was just him and her and this, trails of fire and ice made by hungry fingers travelling across skin.

They should take it to the bedroom. He knew they wouldn’t make it there.

She stood abruptly and pulled down her jeans and removed her underwear, he undid the fly of his jeans and lifted his hips to pull them off. His erection bobbed enthusiastically as it was released for its cotton bindings. But his clothing only made it to her knees before she was back on top of him, her hand at his base guiding him in.

The last time had been tender and gentle.

This was more insistent. The position and their height difference meant they were eye to eye, as she moved above him they never looked away and as her orgasm built he could see her start to let go, the tension dropping from her shoulders and the furrow from her brow giving way to peace. It may only last a moment but he needed to grant her a reprieve, a moment's oblivion and release. He reached down between them and flicked a finger over her clitoris and she was gone, her muscles fluttering over him and he followed her over the edge.

When he came back to himself she was staring deep into his eyes.

“Stay tonight, please” she said shyly. “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been trying to ask you all week”

He pressed his forehead to hers and chuckled.

“I’ve been trying to ask if I could stay.”

She laughed and lifted herself off him carefully and stood holding out her hand to him. “Lets go to bed.”

He stood, unable to move his jeans and boxers bunched around his knees. He smiled “This is dignified” he laughed kicking them off his legs as he followed her to the bedroom.

“I don’t know, there’s something about the urgency of it that’s pretty attractive.” She replied closing the bedroom door behind them “I needed this tonight,”

“Happy to oblige,” he answered.

She stepped into his arms, her tiny naked frame pressed against him. “Not just that. I needed someone to share in this loss with me.”

“I love you,” he said softly, placing a kiss to her lips “I have a share in everything that hurts you, always.”

They climbed under the covers and she curled herself into him, a tangle of limbs and bodies, not quite sure where she ended and he began. Their lips met and the world around them faded to nothingness.

The walls had been scaled and she knew they were never going up again.