RocketMan VI

1. Dana Scully: Pink Kool-Aid
2. Fox Mulder: Full Battle Armor
3. Dana Scully: Out Of Control
4. Fox Mulder: Out Of Control
5. Fox Mulder: Only Me
6. Dana Scully: Peace
7. Fox Mulder: A Change
8. Dana Scully: What She Saw
9. Fox Mulder: Storms

Date sent: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 15:45:56 +0000

Author: RocketMan <[email protected]>

Disclaimer: This character, and Mulder too, belong to CC, 1013, and Fox

because he made them.

Distribute: To whomever you see fit

Rating: G - it's okay and not scary or anything

Content Warning: Um....could be interpreted as Character Death

Spoiler: Absolutely nothing

Classification: S, A, R?

Summary: This is about Scully.

Author's Notes: I had no clue what to name this one. The name it has

still doesn't fit really. Can anyone think of a good name for it?

Dana Scully (1)

Dana Scully couldn't move, and she didn't know why, but it was okay, and

so she stopped trying. She felt cold in places and warm in others,

soaked to the bone, but that was alright, she didn't need to worry. How

did she know she didn't need to worry? She was cold and wet and she

couldn't move, shouldn't she be worried? But, no, a voice was telling

her that everything would be fine, a voice she trusted was saying that

she didn't have to worry.

So she didn't.

She let the clouds drift back over her mind and rain their funny

thoughts down on her.

She thought she might be an island, if people could be islands, with

water surrounding her, warm water though like at the tropics, and wet

warmth at her center. The warmth at her center stunned her, or made it

hard to move or think straight, she couldn't tell which, and she felt

pressure like a volcano on her center. Something else whispered like a

dozen birds in flight in her trees. She felt sure the volcano would

erupt, and then the village would be dead.

She realized this was not right and tried to shake it loose from her

imagination, but found that her imagination was so underused that it

didn't remember how to get rid of it. Then she realized that part of it

was true, there was wetness all around her and pressure at her stomach

and it was warm a bit. She knew something was very wrong. She should be

able to move, to take back control of her body, but she couldn't.

She made a desperate noise and managed to remove all the clouds from her

mind and that made it easier to remove the clouds from her vision. But

she still couldn't move and she felt so light, so why couldn't she move?

She opened her eyes and saw his staring back at her. He smiled tightly

and she realized what was wrong. She was shot, in the stomach, out in

the rain, and it was mixing to form pink Kool-Aid for the greenish black

trees around them. She blinked. She couldn't stay focused. Those clouds

kept fuzzing everything.

"Don't die on me like this, Dana Scully." he whispered fiercely, his

face falsely brave.

Oh, so that was the problem. That was why she couldn't move and the

clouds kept coming back. She was dying. It was a relief just to know

that. That was okay.

She started to close her eyes, let the clouds come take her, but it

thundered loudly and she jerked awake, feeling in her soul that God had

just commanded her to hang on.

"You'l be okay, Scully. You can make it." he said.

She turned her eyes to him and croaked out what she thought was - No I

won't - but turned out to be something she had never wanted to tell him

- ever.

"I love you." she said, her voice soft and cracked.

His face broke and he pulled her into his arms, his hand still putting

pressure to the gunshot wound in her stomach.

"Oh, Scully. Why didn't you tell me before?" he said, agonized.

I didn't want to tell you now! she thought, but my brain's all screwed

up and it said the wrong thing!

She felt darkness come with the raincclouds and she welcomed it,

thinking that she could forget the dull pain hammering in her gut every

second.

She jerked away from the cloud's embrace when she heard a soft response

from him. She listened intently then replayed what she thought she had

heard.

Had he said I love you back?

The clouds came to claim her forever, but she blew them away. She had to

know what he said, if he loved her . . . if he did, she needed to come

back, to be with him.

And if he didn't, well then there was always plausible deniability,

right?

She managed to open her eyes again, and saw his fear be replaced with a

tiny amount of relief.

"I thought you were dead." he whispered. "Scully, keep your eyes open

for me okay?" he said.

She couldn't. It was too hard.

Hadn't she said that to Daddy once? What had he done? Told her to do it

anyway.

So she held her eyes open anyway, well, as best she could. Her lids felt

like swollen pieces of muscle, intent on closing.

Her eyes were scratchy and things kept floating in to block her vision.

What were they? Long and kind of - of - oh, eyelashes. Her eyelashes,

her eyes were closing again and she couldn't stop them.

It thundered and she felt the ground shake. She jarred her eyes open,

despite her earlier assumption that she had no strength left.

She wanted to say something to him, to get the look of fear and sorrow

and pain off her face. But talking hurt, breathing hurt, staying alive

hurt. She moved her head in his lap, so that her face was against his

leg and found she did not have the strength to move it back. She felt

his hand come up and caress the side of her face carefully, leaving

blood streaks, but the rian quickly washed them away.

She felt her eyes close and she shifted, finding that a small flash of

pain kept her awake.

OH! Too much, too much. . . too much . . .

She moaned and he squeezed her hand, her bloodied her hand. All her

hands were bloody. She had clutched her stomach after the gunshot until

he had gotten there, right? Called out to him with her last dying

strength and he had come running. She had blacked out in his arms.

Her mouth whimpered without her permission and she felt him wince. She

wanted to tell him - Let me go, let me go. It hurts too much to stay -

but it thundered ferociously and she stopped thinking that.

God could be scarily accurate, frighteningly all-knowing.

His arms encompassed her all around and he felt cold, but to her

everything felt cold. She could not get warm. It made her sleepy and she

closed her eyes again.

"Scully! Open your eyes!"

Had they been closed? She could still see, so they must be open.

"Please, open them!" he said, and she could hear the angony in his

voice.

They *are* open! She wanted to yell and scream, but she realized that

the darkness had come back and her eyes were closed.

And she found it nearly impossible to open them now that they were shut.

But she could reassure him, let him know she was still there.

"Please..." she heard herself croak out.

She felt him lean down next to her, to hear her quiet voice.

"Let me . . . let me sleep....." she murmured.

Suddenly her eyelids were pried open, but for some odd reason, she

couldn't see even then. She heard Mulder sob and she felt warm, so warm,

and safe now.

But why was Mulder crying?

End.

Comments: Yes, please!

I'll even do a story called Fox Mulder if I get enough response!

Adios

RocketMan

offense.

Author Notes: I'm not even caring at this point whether anyone likes it.

This is set up to be a series, going back and forth between the

characters. And I can't stop now. This could be part 2 of Dana Scully:

Pink Kool-Aid.

F.M. : Full Battle Armor 2

He was sleeping somewhat, still half conscious so that dreams couldn't

invade, and so that he could hear her. The only thing he heard now was

the wind whistling loudly everywhere, storms raging and groaning on the

roof, and something moaning in the floor. He kept thinking it was her

moan, her groan. He wanted it ot be her, because that would mean she was

awake.

But she wasn't.

Once again she was in the hospital, hovering between two armies, life

and death, with him rooting for life but feeling wholly inadequate for

the battle. He wanted to scream with the frustration of not being able

to be her champion, of not doing his sworn best to protect her. The man

who had shot her was dead. That didn't make Mulder feel anymore

equipped, especially if they were to lose this battle. The guy had fired

just as she had, and she had been lucky to be a good shot. He was dead

and she had a bullet in her stomach. Her body had been splayed like a

fallen soldier, and he had wished it was the real Army.

In the Army, when you got hurt, you were sent away from the battle lines

to recuperate.

The doctors said she shouldn't be alive now. That's how good her

prognosis was. She shouldn't be alive. How comforting. You have no

freaking idea and you're telling me you have no freaking idea. Next

time, lie to me.

<Lie to me........I promise, I'll believe>

Wasn't that a song? What was the rest?

<But, please, don't leave.>

Oh.......yeah....

She shouldn't be alive now.

<Yes, she should because she's my partner and she's going to live

forever>

Right now though, she was barely living. Hardly forever.

He was so tired, tired of waiting, of being afraid she wouldn't make it,

tired of jerking everytime he thought she was waking up. He let his head

lay down beside her hand and felt his mind travel farther away, to

Never-Never Land or someplace. His consciousness tumbled and bounced off

his imagination until his subconscious had taken control. He wanted to

stop, but his mind had run away, leaving him stranded without a way to

get back.

He tried to think good thoughts, but that only worked in Peter Pan, and

he wasn't sure flying was the best was to get away from nightmares.

Couldn't night terrors fly too? They were coming, hitching a ride with

his subconscious despite his warning that it was never safe to pick up

hitch hikers.

And they came in full battle armor.

He was forced back to Samantha, to his terrible helplessness, but he was

so numb to it that his demons quickly lost interest and persued more

terrifying things.

The nightmares found the image of her face, Scully, in the rain, dying

on him, blood mixing with water like food coloring. It became twisted in

pain, neverending, and he couldn't fly high enough to pull her out of

the sun. Where were those happy thoughts?

Her wings burned, and she dropped like a stone to the ground and he

wept, eyes closed.

He opened them at a noise, and the demons had brought them to her door

and it opened of its own volition and there she was, sprawled as she had

been when he'd coming racing into the alley. Like X had been, too, with

blood thick and heavy enough to write messags with. He fell to his knees

and squeezed his eyes shut.

He opened them and he was driving, squinting out the rainy windshield,

looking intently, frightened, for her crumpled body on the side of the

raod. He sped to reach his destination, searching for her, but not

finding, calling, but getting no answer. <Seek and ye shall not find,

knock and the door will open to the dead body of someone you love>

He couldn't reach her, he couldn't find her.

Where was she? Scully?

"Scully?"

His own voice jerked him awake; he saw her stirring and hope rose high

in his throat, suspiciously like a lump.

"Scully . . . wake up now. Wake up." he said.

Her eyes opened, slowly, like there was a great weight pressing down on

them. His breath caught and he squeezed her hand.

"You're okay, Scully. You're going to be okay."

Her head turned to him and her brow wrinkled, like it was hard to focus

on him. "Mulderrr...." she slurred and winced in pain.

"Don't try to talk, Scully. Just.....just don't close your eyes."

He was afraid she'd never wake up again.

She licked her lips and her eyes drilled holes into him. She wanted to

say something he could tell. She searched for his hand and found it,

taking it in hers and holding it, like it was her lifeline.

"I'm.......I'm fine," she whispered. "Just don't let go."

He sighed as she slipped back to sleep.

It seemed they had won this battle.

He didn't want to begin to think about the war.

End.

Adios

RocketMan

(3)Date sent: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 15:49:01 +0000Author: RocketMan <[email protected]>Disclaimer: The characters belong to anyone who wants them! (I wish)Seriously, thank you CC for these hourly doses of paranoia and

paranormal in the guise of two FBI agents pretending they hold no

attraction for each other.......did I just say that? Sorry.

Spoilers: NONE

Rating: Harmless

Content: None- oh I mean, there is words and stuff just nothing you'd

need to be warned about.

Cata: MSR!!!! you've been warned. Come to the Dark side Luke.

Dana Scully: Out Of Control 3

Scully glared at the television, sitting silently, using a new method

for her anger. Usually she vented and it went away eventually, but

tonight, the old technique wasn't working. So she tried to ignore it,

not understanding exactly where it came from or what it was there for.

She and Mulder had shared a room before, yet somehow it was different

this time. She supposed it had all started with the check in.

Being the natural one to make motel accomadations, Mulder had found yet

another seedy,disgusting motel to add to their already too long list of

those they'd spent more than enough time in. The only thing she really

hated was that there was only one room vacant. Not so much that Mulder

hadn't had the mind to call ahead, but that it was nearly full on a

Thursday night. It didn't bode well for the reputation. Or maybe it did

all too well.

Pulling up in front of their small motel room, Mulder had made the

comment that if he saw roaches she was sleeping on the floor. Then after

lugging their bags in they had proceeded to review the case before the

interview with local law enforcement.

Only to be constantly interupted by the sexual whims of the people nxt

door.

Mulder's eyebrows had gone up and he'd looked at her in such a way htat

hd instantly made her mad, and she didn't know where this anger had come

from. Mad at him for picking the room and motel and not someplace decent

and inexpensive like Comfort Inn. Of course Mulder would find the

sexual encounters of the next room amusing, that was Mulder.

But when he had banged a fist on the wall and shouted htat *some* people

knew how to do it quietly, she'd been furious enough to smack him.

And he had liked the nager flaring in her eyes; she could see the

amusement.

So she had announced that she was going to bed and flonced, no walked

with dignity, to the bathroon to change into her pajamas. SHe thanked

God for not letting her pack anything silk.

When she had come out, he had whistled out her, making her only madder,

then claimed the bathroom.

So now, she sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do, of what

the sleeping arrangements were. She hated being dependent, not being in

control. Maybe that was why she was mad at him, because she felt like

her control was gone. But where had her control gone?

Probably when he had looked at her and said they'd have to share a room.

With him so close and so much beside her, in her thoughts every second.

How could she focus without time apart from him? She couldn't get her

center of calm back with him breathing in the same space as her. He

crept up into every part of her, making her very out of control.

He came out of the bathrrom in a T-shirt and not too short boxers, to

her relief. He looked to the floor with a grimace, then back to her,

puppy dog expression firmly in place.

"Scully, you're not really going to make me sleep on the floor, are

you?"he asked, eyes troubled.

She sighed and looked at the floor. "With my docotr's good conscience,

no I cannot."

He smiled and sat down on the bed, looking at her. "Which side do you

want?" he asked, and his eyes told her he found it all entirely amusing.

She found it not amusing in the least.

"Farthest from the television." she said. He nodded.

She go tin bed and turned her body away from him, squeezing her eyes

shut to dispel the images she was getting. She heard him turn of the TV

and felt him get into bed. He turned and lay right next to her abd out

his hand on her side, for the briefest of seconds. It was enough to send

hot spikes through her body and to her stomach.

"Good night, Scully." he whispered and reached over her to click off the

light. In the dark she heard him roll back to his side and start to

breathe deeper.

Her heart beating too wildly for her to sleep, she listened to his

breathing until it made her doze off.

She was way too out of control.

End.

Adios

RocketMan

Comments always welcome. Flames even. Go on, try it.

Date sent: Thu, 17 Jul 1997 14:51:02 +0000

Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<

Disclaimer: I don't own them at all. But neither does

CC. If I can't have them, he can't either! So there!

Author's Notes: This is a story written for Kellie,

because she e mailed me and said it would be neat if I

did this story from Mulder's POV. Isn't she smart? So I

thought she deserved some credit here. Thank you Kellie.

Fox Mulder: Out of Control 4

When he picked up Scully that morning he didn't have the

heart to tell her what he'd done. The day before had

told her they would be going on a little trip and that

the plane left at eight twenty. Except that it didn't

and he had just realized this while re-reading the

tickets. It left at nine twenty. She could have slept

in. And she needed the sleep too, with the busyness of

last week. Getting shot, coming back to work only to be

pitted against a serial killer with a thing for petite

red heads. It hadn't been her week. But he braced

himself and said, "Scully, turns out the flight is as

nine twenty." She stared at him for a moment and then

invited him inside. "So, you made me get up this early

for nothing?" she said. He knew better than to reply.

"Well, I'm getting some coffee, then." she sighed and

walked to the kitchen.

She hadn't been able to sleep on the plane because

of it, and he

knew it would be a rough day. Staying awake for five

hours on a very bumpy plane wouldn't help her mood

either. He watched her from the corner of his eye and

hoped she wasn't going to be too angry or grumpy with

him that night. They disembarked at the Sacramento

ariport and went to claim their luggage. Mulder had

called ahead and so the rental car agency actually had a

car for them, which he considered a good omen. After

everything was settled and they were a few miles down

the road, Scully finally fell asleep. Her head leaned

back on the headrest, showing a long, graceful neck to

his wandering eyes, and he noticed that her mouth was

open. He supressed a grin at the sight of her and softly

brushed a tendril of her hair from her lips. When they

got close to their exit, Mulder realized he hadn't made

reservations at a motel. So he picked the first one he

came to. Admiral Benbow Inn, the sign read as he went

inside, leaving Scully asleep in the car. The woman

inside was ratty looking, with bottled blonde hair and

fake eyelashes. She nodded to Scully, seen through the

big windows, and said, "Your girl get in a bad way?"

Mulder was confused first and then understood as the

girl went on to explain that all the rooms were booked,

but since he was being so nice and helping out 'his

girl' she'd get him a room. His girl? "You're being real

nice, protecting her and everything. Most wouldn't.

She's lucky to have you." Mulder realized This was where

all the prostitutes went. She thought Scully was a.....

He smiled to himself and left.

Later, as he took his shower, he realized that her scent

was everywhere. Everywhere. In the shower curtain, the

soap, the air, even the water. He groaned a little and

stepped out.

When he slipped in beside her, he couldn't help but put

his hand to her side, as if to say. "I'm sorry." He

smiled when she seemed to melt against his hand and then

said, "Good night, Scully." He reached over her and

turned off the light. He trembled for five minutes

before finally falling asleep.

Date sent: Sun, 22 Jun 1997 15:51:05 +0000

Author: RocketMan>[email protected]<

Disclaimer: Don't own them. Not for money. Will put them back in their

upright and locked positions when I'm done.

Spoilers: Season 4

Rating: Not sure, somewhere in the vicinity of PG13.

Class: VVVVVVVVVVV......isn't that great?

Fox Mulder stood lightly on the balls of his feet, waiting or her voice

to allow him to come in. When the silence stretched on, he knocked again

on the dividing door between their motel rooms. Nothing, again.

He cracked open the door and peered inside, his eyes taking a moment to

adjust to the dim lighting. He saw her figure on the bed, small under

the sheets and crept over to her. He glanced at his watch, then at her

alarm clock and made sure they agreed. Maybe she had forgotten to set

her alarm or something, he thought.

He sat down next to her on the bed, placing a hand on her side and

whispered her name, to bring her out of sleep gently. She stirred and

did not wake.

"Scully?" he said again, rubbing her back a little to encourage her body

to wake up.

Her eyes opened, then sank back closed and she sighed. He let her regain

her composure, his hand making slow circles on her back, and watched

her.

The small face before him, peaceful seeming with sleep and early

morning, moved into the pillow and tried to ignore him, but he gently

touched her cheek.

"Scully, time to get up. It's eight o'clock already." he said, still

rubbing her back.

He felt her stiffen and turn quickly to him. Her eyes flicked to the

travel clock then to his face and she sat up, freeing herself of his

hand.

"Eight o'clock! Why didn't the alarm go off?" she said.

He shook his head. "It did go off, I heard it."

She stared at him, making him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Was it the

cancer making her so tired that she would turn her alarm off and go

right back to sleep?

"Maybe you should stay-"

"NO, Mulder." she said vehemently. "I'm fine."

He sighed, but did not move away.

"Are you going to let me get dressed?" she said, her voice dripping with

anger and an almost bitterness.

He felt his heart rip a little at her attitude but he wasn't going to

give in on this one. She didn't need to come with him for the interview.

It was only with the sherriff and he could fill her in later.

"Scully, I want you to stay here. I'm expecting a phone call," he lied.

She eyed him suspiciously and he wished he hadn't said it. He was lying

to her, but he had to make sure she stayed in, got some rest. She had

flown down here with him after a week long teaching conference at

Quantico. She had to be exhausted. But of course, she would never admit

it to him.

"Are you lying to me?" she said softly.

He must have let something show in her face because her eyes turned dark

and she looked away from him. "You are. You're lying." she said, her

voice tinted with incredulity, instead of the anger he'd been expecting.

"Please, Scully, stay here. You've been away all week and as soon as you

got back, I whisked you off here and you haven't had time to recover."

He was almost pleading with her. He would plead with her if it got her

to stay. "You don't have to come to this. I can interview Sheriff Daly

and then tell you about it later."

She still wasn't looking at him. He knew there must be something more

than just exhaustion weighing her down.

<Duh! There's the thing called cancer! What else?>

She bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. "Mulder." she said, her

voice coming to his ears low and almost frightened. He waited, letting

her tkae her time, knowing she needed to talk to someone.

He must not have been it. She shook her head nad turned away. "Go out,

Mulder, I'm coming with you."

No, he wasn't backing down on this one. He wouldn't. No matter how

wounding her gaze was, no matter how much he hurt inside for forcing her

to stay. She needed to rest.

"No." he said.

Her head whipped arouind in confusion and she eyed him. "What?"

"No."

"Mulder!"

"No, Scully. I'm not letting you go. As your surperior in this, I'm

pulling you from this -"

"Fox Mulder, don't you dare do this to me. Don't you dare!"

She was loking at him like she would just as soon pull out her gun and

shoot him than follow his instructions. She turned from him and began to

rise from the bed. He grabbed her wirsts and forced her back down. He

was still bigger than her, even if he felt about two inches tall.

"Scully, I'll lock you in if I have to." he said softly, but firmly,

letting her know he meant it.

"Mulder, I have to do this. If I stay in bed, if I let it get me, then

I'm giving up, I'm giving in! Don't you inderstand?"

He felt his heart squeeze and fall to somewhere in his stomach, to be

eaten by acid.

"I understand that you think that resting because of a trip will somehow

mean you've given up. I understand that you think you have to prove that

you can still do the job. I understand that, Scully."

She was staring at him, as if he had just opened her heart and bared it

for the world to see.

"Do you?" she said in a small voice.

"I do. I understand. But this is me. Me, Scully. You don't have to prove

anything to me. I know perfectly well what you're capable of. I know you

can go to this interview, be perfectly alert and awake and do it. But I

also know that you'll be even more exhausted later until something

happens. Exhaustion catches up with everyone, and I want you to just

sleep for awhile and rest. That way we beat it now, before something

happens."

She shook her head. "Mulder, I have to-"

His face contorted and he shook his head. "No! No, don't you see? This

is me, Scully! You don't have to prove anything to me. Nothing. I know

you. I know you. It's only me."

She stared at him and he could see the dawning realization on her face.

"Okay." she whispered.

He smiled and she laid back down, turning away form him.

"It's just you." she said and he placed his hand on her back and began

the slow cirlces again.

She fell asleep and he left. Maybe he had done her some good. Not just

with sleep, but with the way she thought of him. She had nothing to

prove.

End.

Adios

RocketMan

Commandments, I am coveting. For shame.

Author Notes: This is number three for the Dana Scully series of the

series. I have sent two of Fox Mulder already. So it is number five in

the actually scheme of things. It might be a good idea to read one and

two in order.

Also, this is my first try at first person and I'm sorry if you don't

like it. It was the only way I could write this one, since it is so very

personal to me. I know it kind of throws off the whole thing, since it

changes person, but it can't be helped. And I'll do a Mulder one in

first as soon as I'm comfortable with his character.

Dana Scully: Peace (6)

I went outside to wait for my mother, knowing she would want to talk to

me after she'd spoken to Bill. I took a shaky breath of heavy, humid,

night air and stared up at the almost full moon. For the first time in a

long time, I wasn't looking to the sky for my answers, but to God.

Hoping that in the dark, near to nature, He would accpet me, take me

back again.

The moon's face was cold, the eyes and mouth were dark spots where I

could imagine that life died, choked in darkness.

The stars were hard to see, with the pinkish glow of civilization

dulling their light. As with everything in this world, I could not count

on them to always shine, to always be there when I needed them.

But God was there. I hoped. I needed Him to get through the turbulence

in my life. I didn't need prayers of the priest, I didn't need the

ceremonies or pompousness of the Catholic religion.

I just needed God in simple quietness. I knew my mother did not

understand and that saddened me. Mom could always understand; it was a

kind of death for me that she didn't now.

And Bill.

I was already sick of my family's spectacular timing. Bill angry with me

and angry with Mulder for the work I do, the search, wondering bitterly

why Mulder wasn't there when I'd gotten shoved down the stairs. That was

rich coming from Bill. He too, was dedicated to his work, his country,

protecting the innocent, and yet he wanted to begrudge me of that? He

didn't understand that work was all I had left. So Mulder wasn't there

with me. That's Mulder and I'm comfortable with it. I'm independent; I

don't need a male to help me get beat up. And I definitely don't need

*Bill's* protection.

<Can't they all just realize that I'm going to die? Can't they let me do

what I want with the few months I have left? If I want to work, if I

believe that is my savior, they need to accept it.>

I felt like crying. I wasn't going to right now, not with Mom coming out

to have one of her discussions.

She came out then, spotting me in my white T-shirt immediately and

walking down the path to me.

"Dana?"

"Yeah?" <I have control, I have control>

She began talking as she sat beside me on the curb, explaining that my

behavior wasn't something she would put up with, that I needed to

understand the family's concern and stop being so indifferent to

everyone's pain.

I dug my fingernails into my skin, twisting it to keep my tears from

falling, not sure if it was the talk that would make me cry or the fact

that she really didn't understand me. No one did.

<Go away. Go away and let me cry.>

She said she'd talked to Bill about his callousness in the hospital and

other times. She kept trying to reassure me she had treated Bill with

the same amount of impunity. I understood, right? she asked.

I must have made all the right noises because soon, but not soon enough,

she left and walked back up the path to the front door.

I sat very still, even as hot tears spilled down my face, trying not to

let her see them. I heard the door open, the storm door slam shut, then

the door close again. I even heard the lock turn.

And for a few moments I sat still, just to make sure.

Then I began to let my shoulders shake and my eyes overflow. I blinked

and tears dripped down and into the lines around my nose and mouth. They

were hot and salty and tears of profound emptiness inside. I tired to

muffle my sobs, so the neighbors wouldn't hear, nor my family, and let

myself sob. They were not tears of pity, or tears of sorrow, but of

disappointment, bitterness and shame. I was ashamed of what I had become

while in the X-Files. I was ashamed that my mother thought of me as lost

and terribly cold, that even Mulder thought of me as indifferent and

unchanging. In the beginning I'd been naive and innocent, but with time,

I had made a mask of self reliance that had cracked and molded into

chilly unfeeling. I had caused more pain in carving myself out of ice

than in denying the existence of extraterrestrials. I had masked my true

self, making it eat me from within and turn my emotions into swords of

fire.

And now I would die without ever taking it off.

And I didn't even know how to take it off. I didn't know how to stop

being the professional, cold scientist that couldn't show herself. I was

lost in the dark and I couldn't find my way out alone.

All I wanted was the simpleness I'd had before all this. Even if I was

still dying, I wanted simplicity. Something to go easy and allow me to

be myself.

I was actually closest to that with Mulder.

But things got in the way and I couldn't say what I want because he

wouldn't understand. It's not who I am to say such things.

I sighed and the tears grew less and slackened until I had a strange

sense of peace. Not that everything would be magically okay, but that I

was being myself and it was good. This was me. I could change things, or

I could leave them alone, but this was me. I needed to stop wasting my

numbered days and start living again. Living as me. Feeling alive in

myself was the only was to beat it.

A car passed on the street and stopped, then reversed and came back.

It was Mulder, I guess looking for me.

"You okay?" he asked.

I was a little surprised, seeing as how I had just decided to start

living my life as me. Was this a test? If I couldn't live as me with

Mulder, then who?

"No, not really." I said, waiting for the big explosion.

It was anticlimactic.

"Do you want to talk?" he said, his face never changing.

Did I? The real me?

"Not really, Mulder. I just need some silent support, I guess."

He backed the car up and parked it, coming close to my feet. Mulder got

out and came over to me, then sat down beside me.

"Okay, then." he said and pulled me into his arms for a hug.

It was nothing more than that. A simple hug. I remembered what he had

done for me the time at the motel, when I had slept in. It was only

Mulder, why did I put on an act all the time?

"Scully?"

"Yeah?" I almost cringed, waiting to see what he would say.

"I'm glad you're you again. I'd been wondering where you had gone."

It was almost as though he could read my mind.

"Thanks, Mulder. I am too. It hurts too much to try and pretend. After

all, it's only you, right?" I threw his words back at him.

"Yes, only me. Someone who cares about you very much."

I don't know if he could feel my heart beat faster, but I know I could.

His chin came to settle on my head and I was safe, finally. I took a

deep breath, getting rid of all my tears. This was simple, nice.

Something for people who didn't have to play guessing games with each

other. I knew what I meant to him, and he knew what he meant to me.

Not everything had to be complicated.

Not every hug had sexual overtones.

Some things were just what they were.

Peaceful.

End,

We'll see if Scully is still thinking simple when it comes to Mulder in

the next one, huh?

(I really must be an MSR at heart!) But not for TV.

Adios

RocketMan

==========

I went to the coast, where Superman's ghost lay shot on the bedroom

floor. He said "Watch out for TV. It crucified me, but it can't crucify

me no more."

--Don McLean, Superman's Ghost

Date sent: Wed, 25 Jun 1997 16:50:09 +0000

Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<

Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't plan on making

money. I'll give them back, but only when I feel like

it. Catagory: I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know when

I'm done with it. Okay, I think it's mainly an S, with

hints of H, and A. Not sure though. Author's Notes: I'm

making this up as I go along. Please excuse any spelling

errors or grammar problems. And the title is inspired

from Sheryl Crow's song, 'A Change Would Do You Good.' I

think eveyrone has caught that perplexing

line......Scully and Angel on the kitchen floor......

What is that supposed to mean? Summary: This takes place

after Peace. Mulder is being dense again.

Fox Mulder: A Change 7

Fox Mulder knew there was something different about her

today. When she came in with sunlight and sparks, he

definitely knew. There was some kind of, well, the only

way he could describe it would be, a glow. She

positively shined, radiating beauty and warmth and

contentment. What had happened? Who had she met? He

hoped she hadn't 'met' anyone. "Scully?" he asked, a

little hesitant to speak, should it bring her crashing

back down. But she glanced up with blue - oh they were

liquid fire - eyes and smiled a little at him. "Yeah?"

she asked. "Are you.....uh-" "I'm perfectly fine,

Mulder, and I mean that." "Oh." He narrowed his eyes

suspiciously. "Alright, who are you and what have you

done with Scully?" She only laughed - laughed! - and

stood up. "Really, Mulder." He watched her make her way

to the coffee pot and pour the brown heat into her mug,

her hands steady and sure. She glanced to him and raised

an eyebrow, especially when she saw where his eyes were

and he blushed and stopped peering so intently at her

short, tight skirt. When she had sat back down, he had

decided to find out more. "Scully, how come you're

so......so cheerful?" She smiled a full,

putting-up-with-Mulder smile and said, "Can I not be

cheerful?" He blinked and shook his head a little. "No,

I mean, yes you can be cheerful. I just want to know the

reason for it." "I just am." He frowned and realized she

was enjoying her little game. He looked at her, trying

to put on a wounded and indignant face, and loomed over

her desk. "What's so funny?" he said, flicking a finger

to her smile and cocking his head. "Um, well, you are."

His eyes shot up in surprise and he reeled back a bit.

"And why is that?" She hesitated. He dove in on that

chink and explored it. "Huh, Scully? Why am I suddenly

so funny? I'm not even trying to be." She looked up for

a moment and he had the distinct impression she was

praying. "Scully?" Her face turned a funny shade of pink

and he smiled at her, only to have her turn back to her

desk quickly. "Scully?" She glanced up and him and then

exploded out a breath. "Oh, all right. You're funny

because you looked cute, with that expression. Is that

what you wanted?" she said and turned away from him. He

was surprised to say the least. She had never said

anything before. Never. Why was she changing now? He

didn't particularly like change. It always seemed to

bring with it a huge loss. "Scully?" She sighed and

looked at him. He grinned and quickly pecked her cheek.

Her astonishment couldn't be contained in her eyes only.

Her whole face changed. "Thanks for the cheerfulness."

he said and sat back down behind his desk. "Mulder!" He

looked at her. Was she outraged? "Yeah?" "What-" "Oh,

nothing." he said. "Just a little change." As he said

this, he felt his heart skip up and he wondered what she

would think of his words. He wanted her to invite him

over to her side of the room and let him just take her-

"Mulder?" He looked back into her eyes, glad to see that

he hadn't extinguished the contentment, the joy.

"Mulder, what exactly is changing?" she said. He smiled

and he knew his eyes probably showed it all. But he was

confident, she had said 'I love you' once, when she had

been shot. Maybe she didn't remember it, and maybe it

was a side effect of shock, but it gave him hope. "I

think, Scully, that everything is changing." And he said

nothing more.

End.

So, comments? I accept all cash, checks,Visas,

MasterCards.....oh, oops. They don't belong to me.

Sheesh, I keep forgetting. Adios RocketMan

Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, and I will put them back, but not

before I have some fun.

Distribution: This can be posted anywhere, as long as it's with the

others in the series. A stand alone, yes, but it's better if you have

the others, so that this does not seem like such an illogical jump.

Content: S, PG, leaning towards MSR, but.....just good friends.

Author's Notes: Due to the unforseen allergy fest my sinuses are having,

my typing may be horribly inefficient, since every other sentence is

punctuated with a sneeze. Thanks for reading it anyway.

Dana Scully: What She Saw 8

The lightning flashed around them, rain poured without ceasing down her

back, in her eyes, and the thunder was right over them, loud enough to

make the trees and her body vibrate with its intensity. She would have

been miserable, but wasn't only because of the man in front of her,

hands raised to the night sky in joy and wonder and fulfillment. With

his shirt plastered to his body, and his hair hanging in wet locks

across his forehead, he looked to be like a fanatical holy man, and she

had a hard time keeping a smile from her lips, despite the aching cold.

"You saw it?" he shouted to her, over the thunder. "You saw it right?

Tell me what you saw, Scully! Tell me what you saw!"

He turned his gaze to her, that passionate, overflowing gaze that always

made her feel distinct, as if he reserved that look for only that which

he cared for a great deal. Scully was glad he didn't know the power his

eyes held, or she would be lost.

His intense eyes watched her, millions of ideas and thoughts passin

between them with a glance.

"Tell me what you saw in the sky, Scully. Tell me........I want to hear

you say it."

To others, it might have sounded like an 'I told you so,' but it wasn't.

She knew it was a little boy's need to be believed, and when the proof

had come and displayed itself to the only one the little boy wanted to

convince - the only one that mattered - well, he could not help his

enthusiasm she knew.

She averted her eyes back tothe thunderstorm and the hard forceful rain

and thought - What could it hurt? Concede him this, be true to myself

and my own witnessing for once, and let him have his fun, his joy, his

final peace of mind.

"I saw figures, small and skinny, with heads out of porportion to the

bodies-"

"Aliens!"

"-and a light hovering brightly, as if it were a helicopter searchlight,

a souindless one, because there was no noise-"

"Their ship!"

"-and a brighter flash, I think might have been lightning-"

"That was them! Taking us up!"

"And then the rain started and I was back, but I'm not sure I even

really left-"

"Nine minutes, Scully. We lost time again!"

"And because of the rain, I couldn't see much after that." she finished,

still not admitting the last part, not wanting it to be really true. It

went against eveyrthing she believed in. Everything except maybe Mulder.

His face fell a little, but with her earlier admission he was still five

feet off the ground. He eyed her sharply, and took her by the shoulders.

"Scully! Do you know what you just said to me!?"

As if Dana Scully didn't ever know what she had said.

(Well, there was that one time, in the rain, her shot in the stomach

thinking she would die.......)

"It's actually kind of anit-climactic." he said. "I thought when you

finally admitted it, to yourself, there be more."

She shrugged and frowned. "That's all you get Mulder."

He grinned and in the pouring, drenching rain, he looked handsome and so

easy to believe, so easy to trust. So easy for her to slip her small

hand through his and hold on for the rest of her life.

"You saw the last part, I know you did." he said ferverently. "I went up

to the ship, shook their hands even when they looked at me." His voice

was dangerously low, maniacally low. "I didn't want you following be

here, but you did.......and I'm glad now. Because you saw it, you saw

it. You have proof."

Scully glanced again to the sky. She should never have said what she

did. It wasn't going to go away now. Who cares if she had been true to

herself? All that was getting her was a lot of embarressment and

unanswered questions. At least before, she could go home at night and

leave work behind. But now, it followed her, demanding time from her

thoughts and begging to be explored. So many things had come up, her

feelings that she had shut away, that they threatened to explode over

everything. It was time to back away a little.

"Mulder, I'm not sure what it is I saw. But I know that you've had a

dangerously high fever for three days and probably believe that you saw

aliens. I, however, was not close enough to see clearly and I had just

woken from a presumed faint. So what I sw could no be rendered

evidence."

It did nothing to damper his spirits; she had a feeling nothing could.

"But, I did see a ship, and those....people?" she said finally, because

she knew when her denial went from a logical argument to wanton

disregarding of facts.

He laughed out loud and pulled her up in a hug. Then, for a brief moment

he kissed her lips, brief enough not to many anything, and with his

fever and the crazy gleam in his eyes, she didn't, or tried not to put

much stock in it. But it sent her heart reeling and she was glad it was

raining and that he couldn't see what her kiss had done to her.

She was glad that the solitary tear was hidden in raindrops.

And all because of what she saw.

end.

Good, eh? Huh? Yeah? That's what I thoguht. You caught how she stuck to

her promise she made to herself in 'Peace'? Please send comments. This

is the next to last one in this series!!!

Adios

RocketMan

Date sent: Sat, 28 Jun 1997 22:51:49 +0000

Title: Fox Mulder: Storms (9)

Author: RocketMan >[email protected]<

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, I do not own the weather, I

do not own those hospital gowns....oh, sorry, I was getting caught up in

all the things I don't own.

Rating: P, MSR....once again, MSR!!!!

Distribute: This is the last of the series, so please keep it with the

others. But it can be posted anywhere.

Author's Notes: The inspiration for this one came from God and the

awesome storm Memphis had this afternoon. Without which I would have

been online sooner, but also I would still have writer's block. This is

the last one, it's what all the shippers have been waiting for. And all

the non shippers can still read it, it's not mushy, or sappy. Thanks for

sticking with me; it's been an incredible journey.

Fox Mulder: Storms 9

Fox Mulder sneaked out of his hospital room when he heard the weather

report on television. Severe thunderstorms were coming from the west,

riding the winds like surfers ride the waves.

He wasn't really sick anyway. Scully had insisted on checking him in

after his fever and the rain he'd been out in; Mulder thought she also

was afraid he'd get taken up by the UFO he had seen earlier. The one

they had both seen.

But he went down to the employees' pavilion outside, the battered,

ciggarette-burned picnic table offering a great view of the spectacle he

knew would come. Decisive things happened to him in the rain, things

that forever changed his life.

As he sat, the wind began to swirl through the trees and caress his

flesh like icy death, sending goose bumps rising across his body. The

hospital gown offered no warmth in the summer storm.

The trees whispered, heralds of the impending storm, and the dark clouds

formed the front line of the army descending toward him.

It began to build, the trees were talking quickly, urging him to seek

shelter, and the clouds grew ominously close. Thunder rumbled and fell

from grey clouds, some peals soft, others loud and aggressive.

Then the first flash of lightning, as the storm was created above him,

jumping into the ground, tracing a path of burnt ozone. It seared his

eyes, then was gone. Then another and the wind blew a bit stronger,

picking up its excitement from the lightning.

The wind smacked into him, hard, ripping the gown from his chilled

fingers. It drove dirt into his eyes and whipped his hair in every

direction. The smell of rain, and the promise of power, came with it.

The trees were shrieking now, yelling for him to run before the might

contained was let loose upon the earth. Lightning flashed back and

forth, coming from the left edge of the western sky, then appearing at

the right.

Wind rushed the darkened clouds to Mulder's doom, lightning illuminated

the dusk, and thunder kept a background bass progression in the

heightening tempo of the storm.

And in the midst of the escletaing frenzy, Mulder sat, frozen, eyes

flashing from sky to cloud to lightning.

And then a hand touched his shoulder.

He jumped and turned around to meet stormclouds in Dana Scully's eyes.

"Mulder, I've been looking all over for you! Come inside - it's about to

storm."

She sounded harried, and frantic. He wondered if she had been frightened

for him. He wondered if she was ever frightened by anything so mundane.

He reached up and took hold of her arm, tightly, and pulled her down,

making her fall to his side on the bench.

"Watch," he breathed in her ear.

And with a thunderclap of monsterous vibrations, the storm was upon

them.

Rain.

Falling down. Slanted and stinging.

Pricking bare skin untill he shivered.

Peeling his eyes open.

He could feel her tremble beside him. Was she frightened?

Trees bowing and twisting in the grips of a killer wind.

Lightning raced from cloud to cloud making the blackness turn to grey

for just an instant.

Her hair was lashed around her head, sneaking into Mulder's eyes and he

took her hand in his.

Both their hands were clammy.

The only way he could describe the awesome power, the unimaginable

strength of the storm and have anyone understand was if he called it

rage.

Rage.

Twisting thunderous rage.

The rain was in sheets, soaking them, his gown clinging to each taut

muscle of his body while the wind made his skin prickle with the chill.

They were encased, overflowing with the tremendous wrath of the storm. A

sharp fork of lightning remained fixed in his eyes even after it was

gone. The beauty of power, of unbridled might, filled his senses.

Suddenly there was a tearing noise, coming from far distant places and

drawing closer until it was a cymbal-crashing thunderclap echoing in his

ears.

The rain kept a steady, splashing noise in the background, and lightning

became silent witness to the beauty, revealing it for all to see. Their

fingers were tightly entwined, trembling even in its power.

And then thunder like a gunshot amplified a million times over.

Scully jumped as it reverberated across the sky and was followed by a

harder torrent of rain.

Was she frightened?

Another whip cracking, sky splitting noise ripped through the storm, and

he was blinded by the noise, deafened by the rain. It beat at them

horizontally, and the thunder rolled across in a slower procession, like

a funeral march.

Mulder put his arm around her shivering body and put his lips to her

ear.

"That's power," he said.

She nodded mutely as rain lashed into trees, savagely, constantly,

keeping them bowed, rain rippling in waves across the concrete. The

thunder sounded off again, loud firecrackers in explosive succession.

Mulder jumped when another clap of thunder shot through like a snapping

belt, the crack at the end making him wonder if the sky would fall.

The storm wasn't losing its intensity, not coming down from the peak. If

possible, it rained harder, the wind blew stronger, and the thunder

sounded louder.

When it once again exploded in their eardrums, Scully turned her face

away, shutting her eyes.

Was she frightened?

Lightning danced in the sky, illuminating her face and he leaned forward

to whisper in her ear again. His lips came to her ear, but the thunder

cracked and she jumped, turning her face so that his lips grazed her

cheek and came to a stop at the corner of her mouth.

The storm was silent.

Mulder could feel her breath on his cheek, different from the wind.

He heard his heart take a faltering beat, then quiver.

She seemed frozen; time had stood still.

Lightning appeared behind her, making her hair seem to be fire

incarnate.

Rain poured in silence, a heavenly benediction.

Her lips moved.

Thunder erupted as their lips touched, and they jumped apart.

Was she frightened?

Inches separated them, eyes locked.

He could see lightning in her storm cloud eyes, and he knew what she

wanted.

He claimed her lips, hot fire melting away the rain's chill. The storm

in her eyes flared and he was drowning in the blue water, electricuted

by the lightning.

When he pulled away, he saw her eyes were closed, hiding the storm

raging inside her. Mulder did not remove his eyes from her, letting the

storm outside dwindle around them, but build inside of him.

Her eyes opened, like a light house beacon sending him safe passage.

Her lips moved, her breath floated across his face, storms rising up

again.

"That's power." she said.

End. Of the whole series.

Thank you for reading.

Comments welcome.

Anyine notice the theme---rain?

===========

"And when the storms came through, they found me and you, back to back

together."

--'Oh How the Years Go By,' Amy Grant

============

"What is this magic that we seek? The mighty strong turn mighty

weak....The Power touches me. The Power helps us see. The Power holds my

hand. The Power drives me crazy. If I believe and you believe and we

believe everything is going to be all right, it just might."

--'The Power', Amy Grant

===================

"I need to feel your breath upon my face, upon my pain."

--'I Need To Know' sung by Kim Hill, words by Judie Lawson

===================

ADIOS

RocketMan

End Of The Serie Fox Mulder and Dana Scully POVs