~~~~ February 1996 ~~~~ Mulder had the gun oil and the clothes out on his dining room table, his palms flatted on either side as he stared down at his weapon. It was a back up; they had taken his service piece as part of the investigation. So it was just him and his long-nosed pistol, its barrel pointed at him like he'd just won a round of 'spin the bottle.' The speakers in the other room blasted Led Zeppelin but there was no one around to complain because everyone else was at work. He had the bass cranked and the guitars wailing, sound reverberating off the walls until he could actually feel the vibrations inside him, racing along with his heart. This was why he did not hear her pounding. He saw only as something approaching at great speed out of the corner of his eye. He reacted on instinct. He grabbed the gun and he pointed. "Jesus," she said, jerking back and raising her hands. He dropped the weapon onto the table, where it clattered and spun to a stop. "What the hell are you doing, bursting in here like that?" he demanded over the music. "You didn't answer!" she shouted back. She stalked across the room, her coat trailing her like a cape. As he turned to watch her, he saw that snowflakes were starting to drift past the windows outside. They seem to swirl in time to the music, hypnotizing him so that he actually startled when she cut off the sound. "I just talked to Skinner. He told me about your little request. He wanted to know if I knew anything about it, and of course I didn't. Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I going to show up one day and my key to the basement wouldn't work?" "You've got to get out now, Scully," he said as he walked back to the table. Her heels hit sharply as she followed. "That's my decision, not yours. How dare you request my transfer without consulting me?" "I'll go instead then. Would that work? You want the X-files?" "Don't be ridiculous." "Didn't think so." He turned his back on her but she moved so she was in his line of sight again. "Mulder, you've been through a trauma. You're not thinking rationally--" "I am thinking rationally!" He banged on the table with both hands. "Dammit, he might have had my thoughts two days ago, but I swear to you Scully, this is all me." She swallowed under the force of his gaze and tried again. "What happened wasn't your fault," she said slowly, as if he were a dim-witted child, as if he hadn't been in the room with the gun pointed at her head and the voice inside him whispering "do it do it do it." "I know that. It was my theory to begin with, remember? That Modell could force his will on others using only his thoughts? You think I would distrust my own assessment now simply because he plied his trade on me?" "Then I don't understand," she said, moving closer to him. "Why are you sending me away? It's over. Modell isn't going to hurt anyone again." "So it won't be Modell. So it will be someone or something else." "Mulder--" "This," he said forcefully, cutting her off as he gestured back and forth between them. "This is not going to end well, Scully. Either I'm dead or you're dead or maybe we'll go out together, but this little story doesn't have a happy ending." "You think that now because of what happened two days ago." "I almost shot you!" he yelled at her, as if she were the stupid one now. "But you didn't." "But I could have." "You don't get to make decisions about my future," she said steadily. "You don't have the right." "Maybe it's my own future I'm concerned about. Maybe you'll shoot me." She looked shocked and horrified. Good, it was about time. "You did it before," he reminded her. "That was different!" "You shot me once, you could do it again." "I wouldn't, not like that, not like you're suggesting." He shook his head and turned around. "If you'd been where I was two days ago, you wouldn't be so sure." She grabbed his arm to make him face her and her fingers bit into his flesh. "I was there! I was there and that's what gives me the right to be sure." "You didn't have the gun," he said, his voice low and dangerous. He tried to break free but she held him tight. He couldn't believe how strong she was, how he had never noticed before. This surprise more than anything kept him from escape. "I get that you felt out of control," she said, "But you can't get it back by trying to control me." "That is not what I'm doing." He wouldn't look at her, so she pressed her free hand to his face; she wasn't strong enough to move his head. Her thumb moved over his cheek in almost a caress. "It wasn't you," she said. He looked at her with sudden vehemence. "My sister. Your sister. My father. People keep disappearing here, Scully, and you know that better than anyone. We both got out alive this time, but tomorrow, next week, next year... the bullet's going to turn up in that chamber, and it won't matter whose hand is on the trigger. I don't want to be the body and I sure as hell don't want to be the one left standing with blood on my hands." Her face started to crumple as he talked and the pressure from her hand on his face faded. He covered her hand with his own, holding it there so she could feel him nod. He meant it. "Get out," he whispered, his voice roughened by the sight of her tears. "I'm trying to make it easier." "It's not. It never will be." "Listen to me." He grabbed her hard by the arms. "I saw the end of that gun pointed right at your head. My hand was just starting to pull down on the trigger..." "Mulder, no..." She was crying openly, trying to get free from him, but he wouldn't let her. "I felt it move. My arm hurt from holding back. I knew there was going to be this awful noise and in my mind I could see you falling..." "I'm okay. It didn't happen." She sounded desperate, as though she was trying to convince herself instead of him. "Part of me wanted it to happen." He whispered the words and she froze before going limp in his grasp. "He made me want it." He looked down at her wide, wet eyes, staring into them until he saw her register the words. "Mulder, no," she said again. "Mulder, yes." He kissed her cruelly, almost mockingly, and her hands flew up to push him but she never completed the motion. Instead her fingers snagged against his sweater like a cat's claws. He caught her sob with his lips, still holding her up by the arms as he tasted the salt on her skin. She was short and small and smelled like hairspray. He wanted to make her understand what was inside him, to feed her his broken heart in a kiss. He felt the moment she turned angry again, twisting and trying with some force to get away, but he just tightened his grip. This just made her hotter and she started kissing him back with equal ferocity, beating him at his own game. He started walking her backward until she hit the wall with her shoulders and her eyes flew open; he felt the lashes sweep against his cheek. The tiny butterfly sensation got through to him where the violence couldn't, and he pulled back with a gasp. She stared up at him with round, shining eyes, her red mouth shaped in a perfect 'O' of terror and desire. He could see his teeth marks on her skin. Her hand came up, and he winced, preparing for a slap, but it never came. When he opened his eyes, he saw she had the back of her hand pressed against her mouth, wiping him away. Before he could speak, the phone rang, a single trill that echoed through the apartment until the machine cut it off. Skinner appeared beside them in the form of a message, his voice as clear as if he'd been standing there watching the whole incident unfold. "Mulder, this is Assistant Director Skinner," he said, sounding even more irritated than he usually did. "I read your request. It's denied." He hung up and the dial tone buzzed loudly for a second before the machine wound the tape back. Mulder looked over at it and saw the red light blinking, sealing his fate. Scully straightened herself up and eased out from between him and the wall. "It doesn't change anything," he said without turning around to look at her. "You won't be rid of me this easily," she answered, and he then did turn to see her. "You could be dead today because of me." Her chin dropped a bit as she acknowledged the truth of that statement. "I'm also alive today because of you. She left after that, her heels stalking out of his apartment and fading down the hall. Mulder went to the window where he could watch her exit. The snow had picked up speed, pouring from the sky like a burst pillow, and Scully stopped to pull up the hood on her wool coat. As her copper- colored hair disappeared she became just another foot soldier on the streets, faces invisible under hats and scarves. But he tracked her movement down the pavement even as she blended in with the other people, easily picking out her shape and her gait from all those years of walking beside her. I would know you anywhere, he thought, and went to jack up the music once more. ~~~~~~~~~~ syn_tax6@yahoo.com