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Title: One Small Technicality Summary: Scully is led to believe Mulder never loved her. Ugliness ensues. Author's note: Nothing's going to make me abandon Ship. Trust me, I'm aqua phobic. Many hugs to Lisa (truthwebothknow) for very funny beta. Hugs also to new friends over at MR. You are a very inspiring bunch. This one I wrote before I met y'all though... Dedicated to the Vegas Traveler. Budget Inn, Roswell, N.M. "Work, dammit!" Scully shook the set but the thing wouldn't come to life. She grabbed the remote once again and pushed all the buttons, but to no avail; the screen remained black and the loudspeaker mute. She frowned at the un-cooperative device. There was nothing left for her to do now but wait? For weeks, it was all they had done. Waited. And for what? For someone to find them? She whacked the silent appliance with the remote and took a step back. Nothing. She flung the remote onto the bed in frustration and began pacing the floor. Here they were, in yet another seedy motel room. Unidentifiable stains adorned the carpet, bullet holes decorated the walls, and the bathroom, well, she hadn't yet inspected the bathroom. They were going to sleep on yet another lumpy mattress and inhale the stale air of a room that had not been ventilated once since it had come into existence. She eyed the tiny kitchenette suspiciously. If she opened the refrigerator, what would she find? The acidic smell in the room hampered her thirst for knowledge. But only momentarily. She walked over to the tiny kitchenette, grabbed a Kleenex from the box on the counter and opened the refrigerator door. "Jesus," she gasped at the sight, but then the smell accosted her with full force and she all but doubled over, horrified. She held her breath and closed the refrigerator door. God, she hated motel rooms. The cleaning staff, if there even was one, had failed to remove a piece of old cheese and something she could not identify. She didn't intend to find out what. "Fine," she muttered and stalked over to the bed, and grabbed the key card. Mulder was luxuriating in fresh morning air, while she had to wait here? There was a lounge at the Budget Inn. Surely they had a TV set that worked. It was 9 a.m. soon. Hopefully there would be a news broadcast on. Ignoring Mulder's earlier warning, she left the room and walked across the court to the reception entrance. The sweaty fifty-ish man behind the counter was picking his nose. Disgusted, she walked past him and entered the lounge area. There were a couple of teenagers in the middle of the stuffy room, talking excitedly about something. UFOs, she thought to herself; and she wasn't wrong. She watched them ogle, and exclaim superlatives over a set of pictures they'd taken. What excitement, Scully sighed; bitterly thinking about how these kids would not live until early adulthood, and that they wouldn't know what hit them once colonization came to pass. The unsuspecting innocents. Her thoughts immediately went to her son. Ten years from now, her son would be a mere footnote in the history of the universe, and who would be around to even remember? No one from this plain of existence at least. She felt a tap on her left shoulder and swirled around expecting to see Mulder, waving the morning paper, but was disappointed to see the sweaty receptionist instead. "Yes?" "You Dr. Scully?" No one knew her name. They had signed in under aliases and paid cash. The man looked at her curiously. She saw that he was holding a little brown parcel with her name on it. "Yes" she quipped, feigning indifference. The man didn't raise an eyebrow in all likelihood he was used to people using fake names in his seedy establishment. He handed her the packet, turned around and walked back to his counter. She stared at the parcel, but there was no stamp, no sender. She walked back to the reception area. "Excuse me, sir, who brought this?" He looked at her, and scratched the top of his balding head. "He said you were expecting that." The man pointed at the pack in her hand. "What did he look like?" "Normal built, dark hair, regular-looking" "Regular-looking, and not the man I came with?," Scully asked, briefly wondering whether Mulder fit the bill of regular looking. The man shook his head. She swallowed. Someone had found them already? "Thanks," she said, heading quickly back to the motel room. She unlocked the door and opened it. The stale smell of the cheese assaulted her senses, as soon she entered the stuffy room. Defying Mulder's order, she left the door slightly ajar and sat down on the bed. If someone knew where to send her a package, a door wouldn't stop them from killing her. She carefully gave the pack a shake. She recognized the sound. Quickly, ignoring the risks, in her need to be informed, she opened the little parcel, finding videotape inside. There was no label on it. She looked at the TV set. It had an inbuilt video recorder, but the damn thing didn't work. She'd seen the same kind of TV set in the lounge, her memory offered. She got up and walked outside, closing the door behind her. There was no sign of Mulder yet. What could be taking him so long? As she stepped into the lounge area, scanning it for regular looking people, she saw a stack of newspapers on a side table. She walked over and checked the date. Today's papers, she observed. Hadn't Mulder seen them? Willing her creeping fear away, she walked; tape in hand, to the TV set. The teenagers had gone off now, and she was alone in the room. She popped in the tape, grabbed the remote and pulled up a chair as the TV screen came to life. "Dana, it's time you know the most important truth," a distorted voice told her. The screen showed black static. She lowered the volume and peered around. Who could have sent her this, and what truth was she about to discover, that was more important than the truth Mulder had found? The black screen was replaced by footage shot in the basement of the Hoover Building. She recognized the X-Files office. Mulder was sitting at his desk, flicking through a file. She couldn't see his face properly, on account of the folder obscuring it, but she could recognize his broad shoulders anywhere. Was she going to be in this, too? Someone had obviously filmed them at work. When had it been shot? She squinted her eyes. She didn't recognize the pictures behind his desk. "Diana, we've only been working together three days and already you're late," a very young-looking Mulder said, as he peeked forth from behind his folder. She watched him get up from his chair, discarding his file abruptly, and growl at something unintelligibly. Agent Fowley appeared out of left field, rounded his desk and they engaged in a fierce lip lock. Scully closed her eyes and bit her lip. She had known they had been involved, but this was a little too much information. She could still hear them though, Agent Fowley's moan, and Mulder's familiar aroused grunt. So what, she thought, they were involved when they were working together. She opened her eyes and watched Mulder shove at Agent Fowley, pressing her up against the filing cabinet. She closed her eyes again. No, they couldn't possibly have had sex at the office? But soon she could distinguish the distinct sound of belts being unbuckled, of clothes being removed. Soon those sounds were replaced by slapping sounds, of intimate skin on intimate skin. "Oh, God," Scully gasped as she opened her eyes only to witness what her mind had already conjured up in mental images. Just as she was about to press STOP, she heard his ragged plea "I love you, Diana, marry me?" She swallowed a gasp. Mulder proposed to her? When was this? 1990? She looked at the video cover. It looked new. Of course, old footage could be taped onto new tapes. "Yes, Fox!" She was startled by Agent Fowley's howl, and watched aghast how Mulder pounded into her, in a frenzied search for his own release. She wanted to regurgitate what little she'd had for dinner last night. She stabbed STOP and headed over to the reception desk again, looking around for any signs of someone regular-looking. Who wanted her to see this? Someone who thought that this would drive her away from Mulder? She walked back to the lounge TV set. Reluctantly she pressed PLAY again. The screen was black. She paced the floor in front of the set, and soon the screen came to life. She saw his fishtank; his couch and she heard a knock. Mulder entered his living room from the right, from his bedroom. He had a cap on his head. He hummed a tune she didn't recognize. She recognized the tilt of his victory cap, however; she knew she was soon going to see him open his door for her. And there was the knock. Mulder didn't open the door immediately, however; instead there was another woman's voice calling his name "Fox". There must have been many cameras in his apartment, because now she could see his bedroom, and the dark-haired woman sitting on the edge of his bed. Who was she? Had someone filmed this afterward, trying to make her believe Mulder had a lover? "You should tell her, Fox." Scully slumped down on the edge of the chair, not really sure she wanted to continue watching this tape. The angle switched to show how he turned towards his bedroom, whispering "Shh, Lou," and then he turned back to the door, and opened it for her. Scully could watch herself plead with him to stay at home and rest. She remembered this well, their profound conversation, the way he wanted to hold on to his tie, when she had tried to tug it off of him. "Mulder, what IS this?" Scully got up from the chair and started pacing back and forth. Who was 'Lou'? What the hell was this 'Lou' doing in Mulder's bedroom while he was standing in his doorway, all but professing his love for her? Scully watched her and Mulder's departing hug. He closed his door and, to her dismay, he walked back into the bedroom. The camera switched to the one that had obviously been rigged above his bed, because the view of it was very clear. The slender, long-limbed brunette reached out for Mulder and tugged him closer by the tie around his neck. He didn't mind her pulling it off. "She told me to stay at home," Mulder said and ran his fingers through the short brown bob of the mystery Lou. Scully felt a lump in her throat. Their short conversation, especially her order 'No work', was echoing hollowly in her head. "Didn't that guy come here with you?," She heard the receptionist ask behind her. She dropped the remote, and walked briskly to the set to switch it off, swiftly drying an errant tear with the sleeve of her sweater. The receptionist drawled an apology before shuffling back to his desk. Scully watched the receptionist settle himself down at his desk, and she turned to the TV set again. Mulder had been involved with someone. Why hadn't she noticed it? Had she really been this nave, this gullible? Reluctantly she picked up the remote. She had lost her thirst for knowledge, she thought bitterly as she pressed PLAY. "You should tell her, Fox," the brunette said quietly, rubbing Mulder's bare sides. Scully sat down on the chair, bracing herself for what was about to be revealed to her. "You should finally be with her it's obviously what she wants," the woman told him before Mulder muted her with a searing kiss. "Oh my God..." Scully gasped and pressed STOP. Had she really been this easy to fool? Anger began to seep into her system. She couldn't help the unfamiliar emotion. Had she really been this trusting? She stood up again. Where was Mulder now? "What's going on?," she hissed audibly. She registered the man at the reception desk rustle with his newspaper. Her brain was churning to understand. Mulder had been involved with Diana, she had known that, but he had proposed? Had they married? Why hadn't the Gunmen told her this? To spare her the truth? Had they known about this Lou-person, too? Was everybody determined to lie to her?! She kicked at the chair, and heard the guy at the front desk clear his throat. Except for the tape, she thought with a rue smile. The tape wouldn't lie to her. She sat down again and fingered the remote. She knew already by heart where to press PLAY. Their searing kiss ended with a decadently loud pop, and Scully swallowed bile. Mulder ran his fingers through the woman's hair, and Scully wanted to crawl into the scene and make him stop. His touch was reserved for her, damn it. This wasn't real. The woman on his bed sighed contentedly. "Fox, you should give her what she wants, to ease your guilty conscience. You love her as your friend, why not give her what she wants, why not leave this world with the knowledge that you've made your best friend happy?" "Lou, Louise, I love *you*, you silly rabbit," Mulder cooed, and shoved at her to lie on the bed. Scully watched him lower himself on top of this strange woman, and she had to rub her eyes. She was surely hallucinating. Or maybe he was having a seizure of some sort? Maybe They had screwed up the wires in his brain? The camera zoomed in on the woman's face, visible over Mulder's shoulder. "You're dying, shouldn't you give her something to hold on to once you're gone?" "Like a good deed?" was Mulder's muffled answer. He was kissing the woman's cheek tenderly. The picture went black again. Scully looked around. Her vision was blurred by unshed tears. Where was Mulder? The man who was supposed to love her and protect her? She returned her attention to the screen, which had come alive again. This time it was footage shot at her apartment. She was sitting in her sofa, clutching the pillow. She closed her eyes from the sight. She knew exactly what she was about to see. Her desperation. She heard herself speak the words into the receiver. "Mulder, it's me. I...need you. I'm at home" The fucking biological clock, she thought to herself self-deprecatingly. She had been down in the dumps about the goddamned IVF. And she had needed him, plain and simple. Having been out walking hadn't made things better. She had seen at least five women pushing baby carriages, their husbands in tow with a toddler on their shoulders. Happy people, with happiness written all over their faces. She had felt miserable and alone, a barren spinster who had nobody. Except she had Mulder, well, so she had thought. The screen went black again. Maybe whoever had taped this, wouldn't make her go through the humiliation of having to watch her fall into Mulder's arms, maybe she would be spared the moment of illusionary happiness? She was startled by the loud moan emanating from the loudspeaker of the set. It was her own moan, in her bed. Mulder had just touched his lips to her breast. Christ. It was here. The intimate moment between her and Mulder had truly been caught on tape. They shifted around on her bed. She was going to go down on him, she knew. Of course, she had insisted on it. He had tried to dissuade her. "Jesus" she whispered and watched the scene unfold. He was tugging at her shoulders, letting her know she didn't have to. Now she knew why. She watched him wince as her lips encircled him. He gave a good audio performance, faking his pleasure with his voice, but the expression on his face said it all. He was angry with his body for reacting to her touch the way it did. He was aroused, but it was only physical. And here was the proof. These images weren't manipulated. This was the truth. The truth was plastered all over the face of the sonofabitch. Just as she thought she'd seen it all, the next part began. The tape showed Mulder leaving their motel room that morning. There was a camera in the lounge too, she discovered. She could watch him make a phone call from the pay phone in the corner of the lounge. His murmured words were barely audible: "I need to see you" "Bastard," The word came out in a voiceless, sharp hiss and she launched herself at the TV set, not able to control her anger any longer. She extricated the tape from the set and walked over to the pay phone, fuming. REDIAL. She looked at the button for a short while, contemplating what she would say if she heard a woman's voice at the other end, realizing she didn't give a flying fuck how she would come off, in a phone conversation to someone she already hated more than anything. She picked up the receiver and held it against her ear. She pressed the button and waited, her heart racing. 'Yeah?', she heard and gasped as she recognized Mulder's voice on the other end. "Don't bother coming back," she hissed through clenched teeth, putting the receiver back in place with meticulous precision. She walked resolutely over to the man at the front desk. "Where's the nearest gas station?," she asked, planning her next move. The man gave his answer in a confused grunt, and she thanked him and was out the door. She walked over the dusty courtyard to the room, and packed her bag efficiently. She did it, almost managing to force Mulder's deception out of her mind. She left the tape on the bed and scribbled a note for him. She had to thank him for their time together, thank him for the son he gave her, albeit reluctantly, she thought; giving into a little bit of cruel self flagellation. Mulder would no doubt appreciate the effort. He had done 'the good deed', hadn't he? Surely he would get something out of her gratitude? She found the keys to the car. Why hadn't Mulder taken the car? Yes, of course, too obvious. She would have grown suspicious. After all, he was just going to pop out for the morning paper. Suddenly there was a person standing in the doorway, one that she knew to be her, soon to be ex-lover. He launched himself at her and snatched the bag from her grasp. "What are you doing?!," she hissed at him, her anger flaring at his rough tactics. "No, what are *you* doing, Scully?," he scoffed. She stared at him in disbelief and shook her head. "Give me back my bag," she managed quite calmly, stretching out her hand, locking eyes with her new nemesis. "No, not until you tell me where the hell you're going," he muttered hoarsely. "Give me back my bag," she repeated, keeping her hand outstretched towards him and her voice cool. She really didn't need to be in the same room with him. She wanted to leave before she'd break down. She was through breaking down. She had been a freaking sob fest for a fucking year, it was over now. Finally she was the fuck free. "Give me my bag," she repeated, and to her surprise, he finally gave in and handed the bag to her. She snatched it from him and didn't look back as she strode resolutely out the door towards the car. She heard his footsteps at her heels. She got to the car, unlocked the door on the driver's side and was about to get in it, when Mulder's hand pressed the dusty door closed. "Where do you think you're going?," she heard him ask in a low growl. She whirled around and faced him as best she could, without hitting him, and answered truthfully, even though he deserved less. "I'm going, it's all you need to know." "What's that supposed to mean?" he shook her by her arm. His touch stung her. She tried to pull her arm away but he held on. "As you know, the world is coming to an end, wouldn't it be nice to be able to spend it with your dignity intact?," she asked firmly, and was pleased to feel his hold slip away. She turned back to face the car, determined to wait until his other hand slipped off the dusty metal of the car door. She hadn't planned to say that much. If she said any more, she'd break down, for sure, and he'd feel sorry for her. She didn't want his pity. She was damned if she was going to let this destroy her. A broken heart was a sad affair, but she had made it through worse ordeals. The loss of a sister took presence over this pain, her rational mind dictated, and her crushed spirit nodded. Fifty yards away she heard the crying of a baby, and her head snapped in the direction. A woman with a baby carriage was walking in the direction of the parking lot. She had short brown hair. Like that Louise-person on the tape. The baby let out another cry, and the woman stopped to sooth her child, leaning forward so she could reach him. The baby. The biggest lie of all -William. The 'lovechild'. In her eyes, he had truly been a love child. She had loved his father very much. Past tense. She turned to the car again. Mulder's hand was still preventing her from opening the door. She didn't want to struggle. Instead, she closed her eyes. "Thank God, I gave the bastard away," she sighed, more to herself than to the person standing right behind her. "What?!" Mulder moved to stand right between her and the car door, gripping her by her shoulders, pressing his fingers into her skin, and hurting her. She managed to look up into his eyes. "I said, thank God, I gave the bastard child away," she said, her eyes slightly blurred. By tears? She wasn't sure. Her mouth tasted of venom, not tears. "You don't mean that," Mulder managed to choke out. She could hear a hint of regret in his voice. What was his regret? Having fed into the fantasy of his lovesick partner? "Let me go, Mulder, just for once listen to your heart and cut me loose" She was too tired to be standing around here, wasting what was left of her life on someone who felt she was a ticket to good karma. He didn't have to be with her. She wasn't that desperate. She was strong and could handle a lot; she could handle his deception, too. "Let go of me," she repeated. "I'm not letting go until you tell me what the fuck is going on" She was surprised. Mulder wanted to talk? "You mean to tell me, you don't know?," she had to chuckle out loud. "What's so funny?," Mulder asked with a frown. "You are. You're a god damned laugh fest, do you know that?," she giggled mirthlessly, and quieted down to add: "And finally I know the 'truth', I've been too blind to see." "And what might that be?" She heard his question and swallowed. Did she want to confront him? What would that achieve? It wouldn't change the way he felt about her? Hearts weren't changed just like that. And she wasn't sure she even wanted him anymore. Truth be told, maybe this truth, however ugly and unpleasant, was what she had really needed to be able to move on. Granted there weren't many years left, but at least she would be free from deception. "It's all moot now, Mulder. It's over," she shrug her shoulders indifferently, and found the inner strength to shove his hands from her shoulders. He looked momentarily lost. "Step aside," she asked, gaining more determination from his apparent weakness. "It's over?," he asked. "Step aside," she said confidently. "Just like that? It's over?" She had to look up into his eyes at his question. "You're right, Mulder, how can something be over, when it never really existed in the first place? There never really was anything, we were never engaged, never married, never in love..." Her god damned voice hitched at that moment, undermining her determination to be strong in front of him. As if that wasn't enough, a couple walked past them with a toddler in tow. The little person gurgled unintelligible things to his parents, and she was helpless to prevent the sudden tears. "Thank God I gave him up...." she managed, burying her face in her palm, but quickly realizing what the hell she was doing. "Thank God I gave up the 'love child'!," she cried out in anger, spitting the words at Mulder. She stalked away from him; bag in hand, more determined than ever to finally cleanse herself, her heart and her spirit from his influence. She walked into the guy at the front desk. He eyed her up and down, resting his tired gaze on her face. She probably looked like hell, but she didn't care. "Can you call me a cab?," she asked. "Sure, Doc," the man answered without a shrug. He had in all likelihood witnessed similar scenes unfolding in the courtyard of his motel before. "Thanks," she said over her shoulder as she walked back to where Mulder was standing. She tossed him the keys to the car. "No need to sneak away anymore, you're free," she stated and took off back to the lounge to wait for her cab to take her back to real life. She settled down on the chair in front of the TV set that had revealed the ugly truth to her. A very honest piece of equipment, she thought with a sigh. The loudspeaker stared back at her, mute. The lounge was quiet. She was surrounded by silence. When she had parted with her son her apartment had been quiet. And she had felt just like this. She could hear his familiar footsteps coming, and she involuntarily looked at him, the person she had loved such a long time. He walked towards her, his face ashen; the tape she had left on the bed was in his hand. And so was the note. She realized her mistake and looked away, too tired to answer his questioning gaze, too tired. "You know..." he whispered. She gasped. It was true then. It was really true. Nine years of her life were beginning to be erased from her heart. "I don't know what to say...." Mulder began, but she didn't want to hear more lies. "Don't say anything," she interrupted him. She took a few calming breaths and continued, "...unless it's the truth". "I loved William," Mulder whispered. She fought raising her eyebrow. She fought looking at him. She fought the thoughts of her little baby boy. "I'm sorry you didn't see him again," she offered solemnly. "Me too," was his answer. "Would you leave now?," she asked quietly, closing her eyes, and beginning to finger the handle of her bag. She couldn't stay much longer. "Where will you go?" "I'll be fine." "Can I just hold you before you go?" "It's best you don't, don't you think?" Silence. "I'm so sor..." "No, don't apologize." She was shaking her head, still not facing him. "You can't help... you can't help the way you feel." "I don't...I can't..." She looked at him then. He was at a loss for words? The person in front of her truly was a stranger. "I think we've said all there is to say," she stated. "Am I supposed to save the world...on my own?" He was having a difficult time with this? "I believe...that that is the case." "It'll be tough without my partner." "I'm sorry I can't be your partner anymore." Silence. "The cab's here!," the man at the front desk hollered. "That's my cue"; she got up, and he took a step closer. "So, I'll never see you again?" She kept her eyes pinned to the floor. "I think that a clean break is the best solution, for both of us" "So, this is it then?" "This..." she looked at the TV set "...should have been a long time ago, Mulder." They heard the honk of a car horn, and she started walking towards the exit doors. He grabbed her arm as she passed him in the center of the room. She winced, and he immediately let go. "I am sorry." "I'm not," she managed. "Scully..." "At least now I know, and there isn't the heavy burden of the secret weighing on your shoulders." She inadvertently looked him in the eye. "Scully, I never meant to lie to you." She sighed in defeat. "Yeah, you did it to give me what I wanted, and a part of me is grateful for that..." "Please, don't thank me for deceiving you..." "You made me happy..." she explained silently. "Fairly happy." An attempt at a quip? She let herself think about their pizza and movie nights. "Yeah, fairly happy," she managed a smile "...And as ironical as it sounds, and it does sound ironical, I had never been that happy...with anyone...and then William came along, and I had never loved anyone, as much as I loved him..." Her voice trailed off. She couldn't stay any longer, her tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks, and she didn't want to cry in front of him. She headed for the exit, yet he stopped her and gathered her into his arms. They stood in the middle of the little lounge for some time, his arms around her, her desperate sobs echoing in her head. There was a ringing sound. It was the phone on the front desk, she concluded. Time to leave. She breathed in the scent of Mulder's aftershave one last time. "You okay?," he murmured into her hair. She looked up into Mulder's concerned gaze, and felt him hug her closer. He ran his hands soothingly up and down her back. "We're in bed," she whispered, realizing she wasn't wearing anything. "Hey, you... You were crying in your sleep." She pinned him with her drenched stare. "Do you love me?" she croaked desperate to finally hear the words. "Scully...?" "Why can't you say the words? Why?! Do you always need drugs to do it?" she cried, pushing him away, clutching at the covers, attempting to get out of the lumpy motel room bed. "I love you, Scully, but one small technicality..." "What?" "YOU haven't told me you love me." She stared at him incredulously. What was he talking about? "You've never told me, Scully," he whispered hoarsely, shifting restlessly on the mussed sheets, looking somewhat lost. What was he saying? "All this time we've been together, and you've never said the words, Scully," he murmured quietly, as if insecure. "I love you, Mulder." Silence. "Good, now come back here." "Do you know anyone named Louise?" "No. Should I?" End No, Mulder, you shouldn't!!! Yeah, you thought I'd able to let go of the Ship? NEVEEEEEEEEER!!! Geeez...
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