Summary: Scully works and waits for Mulder to come home
Author's Notes: Well this was written hurriedly after an extreme case of writers block. I wanted to get it out before Sunday's episode, as unfortunately, we all know this is not how it's gonna go!
Scully lay on her sofa staring listlessly at the glowing LCD display of the VCR across the darkened room.
She had been back from the Ivory Coast for almost two months now and had spent her first week back in Washington alternating between keeping a vigil at Mulder's bedside and scrambling around looking for a cure for the illness that was ravaging his mind.
Unable to ban Diana Fowley from visiting Mulder, Scully had made arrangements to have one or all of the Gunmen present at Mulder's bedside whenever she was unable to be there herself.
She had abandoned the dig site in Africa because of a desperate need to return to Mulder. To see him. To touch him. To beg him to hold on.
Finally, unable to come up with a cure but realizing that the doctors in the hospital were also stymied at how to help him and afraid that he was slipping away, she made a decision.
Plans were hurriedly made and set into motion during the nursing shift change in the wee hours of the morning to take Mulder out of the hospital. The Gunmen had rerouted the video cameras, arranged for a distraction in a room at the other end of the hall that required the small overnight nursing staff's attention and quickly smuggled Mulder out of the hospital and into their van.
The plan was simply to take Mulder into the countryside to a hidden location. To a place that was peaceful and quiet. Where he wouldn't be bombarded by hundreds of thoughts and voices in his head. Byers, Langly and Frohicke each took turns spending several days out of each week with him, but never at the same time. Scully hoped that by having only the thoughts of one other person to contend with, Mulder might somehow learn to control the turmoil swirling in his head.
"Five weeks ago," she sighed. Five weeks since she had last seen him. It had been agreed that she could not accompany him to his hideaway. If she was not actually followed, then perhaps the chip in her neck would give away his location should she go to him. She swept her apartment daily for bugs and hidden cameras. She was called in for countless interrogations by Skinner and Diana as to Mulder's whereabouts. She and the Gunmen agreed that she was to have no contact with them during this time, but when Mulder was able to come back and face his enemies, they would bring him to her.
She spent untold hours going over the notes, papers and photographs that Dr. Ngebey had forwarded to her from Africa. She continued keeping a journal for Mulder so that he would know what she had seen, what she now knew to be true. That the artifact that had affected him so terribly was extraterrestrial in its origin.
She barely ate and what little sleep she managed was plagued by nightmares. Dreams of locusts and seas of blood. Of a life without Mulder.
The carpets of her apartment were strewn with her notes and photographs. Books were piled haphazardly on the coffee table and dining room table. The Bible, the Koran, medical journals, texts on the Navajo dialect. Her head pounded almost constantly as she painstakingly transcribed the symbols on the photographs of the ship's hull. A lack of proper nourishment, too little sleep, too much caffeine and most of all, no contact with Mulder and no way to know how he was, were taking their toll. Her clothes hung loosely on her frame, her hair was limp and dull. When she wasn't nauseous, her stomach burned and roiled with nervous acid. Depression hung over her like a heavy cloud. And on the edge of her consciousness the words of Dr. Barnes niggled and taunted her -- 'there is no God!'. She ruthlessly suppressed these blasphemous thoughts but as the weeks wore on with no word of Mulder's condition, the voices of these thoughts whispered louder and louder as she begged and pleaded with a God that she was beginning to fear was either not listening or had never existed.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she drifted into an uneasy slumber. Seemingly minutes later she opened her eyes as she became aware of another presence in the room.
Blinking sluggishly, Mulder's face swam before her eyes. Scully closed her eyes tightly and then reopened them cautiously. She stared disbelievingly as Mulder sat crosslegged on the floor in front of her sofa, his face only inches from her own.
"Hey," he whispered softly.
Scully did not respond, believing this to be a dream. But then Mulder smiled softly, sexily.
"Scully? It's me." His voice was soft and persuasive.
Scully reached out a trembling hand and ran her fingers down the side of his face. Mulder shuddered and rose up on his knees to lean over her. Still Scully stared, unable to believe that he was here, in her apartment, safe and seemingly better.
Mulder reached out with two fingers and brushed the hair off her forehead. It was this familiar gesture that freed Scully of the trance that had held her captive. With a small cry she launched herself at him.
"Mulder," she gasped.
Mulder rocked back under the force of the impact of her body slamming into his. She flung her arms around his neck as Mulder wrapped her in a tight embrace.
"MulderMulderMulderMulder," she chanted as she filled her arms with the feel of him, filled her lungs with his scent.
Mulder feverishly buried his face in her neck.
Scully eased back onto the sofa drawing Mulder down with her until he lay stretched out over her. She welcomed his weight as he crushed her deeper into the cushions. His belly was nestled into the cradle of her hips and she tangled her legs with his, trapping him in her embrace. Mulder rested his forehead against hers and they whispered softly to each other.
"I've been so worried about you."
"Scully, I've missed you so much."
"They were supposed to call me when you were ready to come home."
"I wanted to surprise you."
"How are you? Is it gone? Do you still hear the voices? Oh Mulder, tell me, please are you alright?"
"It's better. I can control it, filter it somehow."
"How do you know? You've only been around the guys and now me, maybe it'll come back when you are around more people. Mulder, we have to know for sure.."
"We started to head home about five days ago. Testing as we got closer to civilization and more people. I don't know how, but it's just better. I'm not bombarded by the thoughts and emotions of others."
"I've been so scared. I'm sorry that I couldn't be with you. I would have been there if I thought it would be safe for you. You know that don't you?"
"Of course. You were right. I needed time away where I could find some level of control over it. But Scully, you look so tired and you've lost a lot of weight." Mulder smoothed a thumb over the dark circles under her eyes and looked at her worriedly.
"I've been busy...Oh no!"
"Scully, what is it?"
"My apartment! It's filled with pictures of the ship, my notes...oh, Mulder! You've got to get out of here before it starts again!"
She squirmed beneath him trying to dislodge him but he refused to budge.
"No, Scully. I don't feel anything from it. Maybe now that I've learned some control, some way to harness it, it's lost its ability to affect me like that."
"Are you sure?"
"No headaches, no dizziness.."
"I'm *sure* Scully. I feel good. The best I've felt in a long time." Scully smiled and relaxed.
"Now, again, Scully, how have you been?"
"Worried, scared, but keeping busy. Mulder, I kept a journal for you of everthing I found, everything I saw. But Mulder..." her voice trailed off and tears filled her eyes.
"Scully what's wrong?" he cried out alarmed.
"The ship...it's gone. When I left, apparently the government sent troops...Dr. Ngebey sent me an e-mail telling me that they had taken the ship and that she didn't know where it was. Mulder, I'm so sorry. Maybe I should have stayed, protected the site, but I just couldn't spend another day there. I had to get back to you."
"Shhhh. It's okay. Why don't you tell me a little bit about it. I want to know what you were doing while you were there."
Haltingly she began to tell him. About her agony at having to leave him behind in the hospital. Of her distrust of Diana and Skinner. The long flight, trying to put together a team of workers to excavate the ship. The endless days and nights spent analyzing and trying to decipher the data. Her constant worry about him until it seemed at times that it would overwhelm her. Her disbelief at what she was seeing. Her desperate need to have him by her side. The locusts and the river of blood. The strange man who had appeared and vanished a number of times. Dr. Barnes' assertion that there was no God.
She was trembling and shaking. Tears were rolling down her face as she relived the elation and horror, the fear and the worry of her days in Africa.
Mulder crooned to her softly as he pressed tiny, comforting kisses along her brow and down her cheeks, sipping at her tears. His lips traced a path to her mouth and he lapped at the salty wetness he found there. Scully moaned quietly against his lips. The kiss turned quickly from comfort to passion as Scully opened her mouth to him and he swept his tongue inside. She sucked his tongue deep within her mouth and then chased it back into his own. She tilted her head, trying for a different angle. They kissed voraciously, blood pounding in their heads. Biting, licking, sucking in a frenzy of passion, grief, fear and love. Finally she tore her mouth from his as they both gasped for desperately needed oxygen.
"I love you," she panted. Mulder's head snapped up and he stared at her intently.
"I love you," she repeated, calming somewhat. "I have for so long now and I'm sorry I never told you before."
"Oh, but you did, many times," he smiled.
"Everytime you came to see me in the hospital, I could hear you say it. You were begging me to hold on, talking to me, telling me what you had found, but inside, I could hear your mind screaming that you loved me. And the expression on your face. God, Scully I suddenly realized how many times I had seen that same expression on your face and I knew. I knew then that you had loved me every bit as long as I've loved you."
Scully smiled tearfully as Mulder slid down to pillow his head on her breasts.
"Will you stay here with me? Please?" she asked.
"Scully this is the only place I want to be. I'm home."
Okay, it was rushed, but I was under a time crunch. Please, I'd love your feedback at email@example.com Thanks.
Title: Home 2 - Giving Thanks
Summary: It's time to give thanks for what they have
Author's notes: I was surprised at the lack of Thanksgiving themed fanfic so I decided to try on my own. This is a followup of sorts to my story Home. Thanks to all who wrote with such nice feedback. If you read Home, you know that Mulder found his way back to Scully without the actual events of Amor Fati having actually taken place. So I guess it's an alternate universe?
Monday, November 22, 1999
"When is your flight?"
Scully lifted her head from the report she was reading to study her partner.
"Flight? What flight?" she asked. Confusion caused little wrinkles to form on her forehead.
"Aren't you going with your mom to California for the holiday?"
"Um, no...I kind of figured *we* were going to spend Thanksgiving together, but if you have other plans that's okay..." Scully was fighting to keep a outwardly calm expression on her face while inside, her stomach was jumping nervously. She had told her mother almost two weeks ago that she would not be joining her for the holiday this year. She and Mulder had only had one case assigned to them since his return and quite frankly, she wasn't completely thrilled with his level of recovery. He still tired easily although the headaches were becoming less and less frequent. And to be honest, she was still coping with the physical and emotional exhaustion that were a holdout from their enforced separation and her desperate scramble to find a cure for him.
Ever since he had come home and they had admitted their feelings for each other, they had spent not only all of their working hours together, but most of their off duty hours as well. Reluctant to be apart for any substantial length of time, they had taken to spending their nights together, snuggled under the blankets as fall gave way to winter, whispering in the dark of Scully's discoveries in Africa and Mulder's reaction to his exposure to the rubbing of the alien artifact. They had not yet made love, but Scully felt sure that it was only a matter of time. They had mutually (if silently) agreed to take things slow and ease their way into this new aspect of their relationship. But every night ended with passionate, exploring kisses and wandering hands and every morning began with tangled limbs and soft smiles as two battered souls slowly healed.
Scully had assumed that they would spend this holiday season together and had even gone so far as to stock her refrigerator with all the necessary ingredients for a home cooked Thanksgiving dinner. Perhaps she had been overly presumptuous...
"No, no I don't have any plans other than to watch some football with the guys. Scully, you know there's no one I'd rather spend the day with than you, but don't you want to see your family?"
"No, Mulder. I'm tired. I'm sick of traveling. I just want to spend a nice, quiet holiday at home. With you."
Mulder grinned happily and nodded. "Me too."
Scully propped her chin in one hand and mentally reviewed the contents of her refrigerator. She had planned to go to the supermarket this evening on the way home to pick up the turkey. It would be easy enough to buy one slightly larger than she had originally planned.
"Well there's no reason you shouldn't still catch the games with the guys. Why don't you all plan to be at my place around 4:00 p.m. on Thursday?"
Mulder's eyes widened. "All of us? You want me to bring the guys over to your place for Thanksgiving dinner?"
Scully nodded. "Sure, why not? Mulder, we would never have gotten through the last couple of months without them. The least we can do is share Thanksgiving with them, right? Unless they have other plans."
"Not that I know of," Mulder said. "But Thanksgiving dinner is a lot of work, won't you need some help?"
"Yeah! Who else did you have in mind?"
"Um, no offense Mulder, but I've seen you in a kitchen before. The best way you can help is by watching football. Believe me." Scully smiled affectionately at him.
Thursday, November 25, 1999
Mulder and Scully were sprawled out on her sofa, sleepily watching the television, the victims of too much turkey, too much stuffing, too much Thanksgiving. Mulder clicked the television off and stumbled to his feet tugging Scully off the sofa.
"Mulder," she moaned. "I was just getting comfortable."
Mulder led her to the bedroom. "That sofa is not big enough for us tonight after that dinner," he smiled. Scully leaned her head drowsily on his chest, drifting off to sleep standing up. She stood docilely as he first stripped off her clothes and then his own before urging her under the covers. As he slid into the bed beside her, Scully sprawled across his chest, nuzzling the sparse hair tickling her cheek. The domesticity and normalcy of the day was exactly what they had both needed to recharge, regroup and recover.
Mulder rolled her onto her back and propped himself up on one elbow. He smoothed his thumb rhythmically over her cheekbone. "Well Frohike's always been in love with you," he smiled. "But after today, I'd have to say that all three of them are now officially in love with you!"
"You know what they say about the way to a man's heart," she laughed.
Mulder wrapped his arms around her and drew her close in a crushing embrace. He loosened his hold and eased her back onto the pillows, lowering his mouth to hers. His lips took hers hungrily and his hands roamed restlessly over her body. Scully groaned and eagerly returned his kisses. When Mulder began to move away, she tightened her arms and legs around him.
"Make love with me," she whispered.
Mulder stared at her, seeking assurance and smiled at what he found. He slid his hands under her hips, buried his face in her neck and his body in hers. They rocked and thrust together, bodies straining to reach fulfillment until they shuddered and cried out, collapsing against each other.
Mulder rolled onto his back, dragging Scully with him. She lay draped over his body; both of them too exhausted to move any further. Mulder nestled his face against her breasts and slid into sleep. Scully dragged heavy eyes open. She tangled her fingers in his too short hair, cradling his head to her breasts. Resting her cheek against his head, she offered a brief prayer of thanks for this man's presence in her life. Closing her eyes with a little sigh, she followed him into a healing sleep.
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