From: "Michelle Shackleton" <simplecomplexity@hotmail.com>
Subject: Battle of  Wills - 1/5 by Michelle
Date: Sun, 28 Sep 1997 04:09:26 PDT

Battle of  Wills - 1/5 by Michelle
TITLE: Battle of Wills
AUTHOR: Michelle Shackleton
EMAIL ADDRESS: simplecomplexity@hotmail.com
SPOILER WARNING: Many various references from Seasons one, two and three 
ONLY.
RATING: I'm an innocent soul, only a G
CONTENT WARNING: This story is just a bit of fluff coz I was in the 
mood. Nothing realistic in this, so if that's the only thing you are 
willing to read, TURN BACK! And to make it worse, it's my first piece of 
fanfic. AARRGGHH! I suppose having read that, you'll all turn back :( 
Please don't! With references from various episodes in Season 1, 2 and 3 
only.  And because I was in the mood and the story needed an ending, it 
ends with MSR
CLASSIFICATION: S, R and (I hope you will agree) H
SUMMARY: Scully and Mulder fight the ultimate battle of wills. Who will 
be the first to admit how they truly feel.... (told you it was a fluff 
piece ;)
DISCLAIMER: Everyone else has one of these so... (everyone sing along, 
same tune as 'Happy Birthday' coz everyone knows what I'm gonna write):
'They don't belong to me,
But you know that alread-ee,
They belong to Fox Productions and C.C.
So please don't sue me!'
     Comments are the reason I exist and flames will merely be used to 
light my scented candles. BTW, if anyone copies me, ``I've got a .45 and 
a shovel. I doubt anyone would miss you.'' (J/K)  ; ) 

This is dedicated to my beloved editor Natalie O'Brien <notice, I had to 
omit my epic sig! :( Sob!> and my darling Jojo who I'm sure isn't 
reading this.

BATTLE OF WILLS ~ Part 1
 
    Sitting on Mulder's couch, Scully felt the tension and strain drain 
away leaving only exhaustion and infinite sadness. All the woman who had 
died shrieked her her thought. With repressed guilt she put them out of 
her mind.
     It was the end of a long month.  They had just solved a case for 
Violent Crimes, an old friends of Mulder's had asked for his help.  It 
seemed to be a paranormal bank holiday and work was slow, so they had 
looked at the case.
     They almost immediately regretted it.  Lucifer Erif was a serial 
raping, kidnapping, murdering, necrophiliac.  This guy had been straight 
from hell, what Mulder called a ``black hole of evils'`.
     His profile had cracked the case but it had been another month 
before, thanks to some genius investigative work by the both of them, 
they had caught the guy.  It had been the hardest case Scully had had in 
a long time.  Scully had found it hard to keep cool and detached as with 
the X-Files.  Because as much as she wanted him not to be, Erif was very 
much human.  For once, both she and Mulder had agreed, and as a result 
she had had no firm contradicting belief to Mulder's, to use as a 
shield.
     Mulder of course, noticed the whole thing and wasn't fooled for an 
instant.  He hadn't let her out of his sight for a moment since hearing 
about the case, fearing as much as she did, of another disappearance.
     Thinking back over the case, Scully had been obviously touched by 
his concern, as well as irritated by it.  The FBI agent in her rebelled 
and lashed out at the thought of being less than independent and strong.  
Their relationship had been strained by the case, because of the 
tension, horror and guardianship Mulder inadvertently gave.
     But now Erif was behind bars.  And they had been sitting back at 
the office in the basement at the end of the day, drowning in relief.
     Scully had spoken her thoughts aloud, ``What do you do after a day 
like this?'' she said wearily.
     Mulder had answered just as wearily, ``Forget.''
     So Scully and Mulder were at his appartment, relaxing after work.  
Ordinarily they wouldn't have risked something so personal but they both 
felt an inexplicable need for each others company after such a case.
     Right now, Mulder was in the shower.  Or really,  just out of the 
shower.  Mulder entered the room in plain jeans and an `Alien Workshop' 
T-shirt, bare foot, with wet tousled hair.  It was nice to see him out 
of his normal working clothes, he looked so much more comfortable, open, 
friendly.
     ``Your turn,'' he said to her, indicating the shower, walking over 
to his fish to sprinkle a little fish food in.  She didn't move, just 
watched him.  He noticed and made an offering gesture.  She declined 
with a smile.
     ``You sure?'' he said, ``It's probably the only edible thing in the 
house,'' he warned.
     ``You call that edible?'' she said.
     ``Well, it's not very substantial but great as a snack for dinner 
parties,'' he answered, settling on the couch leaning back against the 
arm rest, facing her.
     ``Given up on sunflower seeds?'' she asked.
     ``Actually, over the past month I've hardly ever come home, and the 
fish stole them in protest.  So I stole their fish food.  And we've come 
to an agreement.''
     He paused.  She waited.
     ``Well?'' she asked.
     ``I told you,'' he said.
     ``Dinner parties, right?''
     ``Yep.''
     She wrinkled her nose slightly, ``That's disgusting Mulder, even 
for you.''
     He smiled charmingly, ``Thank you.''
     They sat smiling at each other for a long moment, just enjoying the 
fact they were together.  But when the long moment became several long 
moments, Scully stood, breaking the eye contact.
     ``I'm having a shower,'' she called over her shoulder as she went 
to his bathroom.
     Mulder watched her go with a sigh.  Thankfully this was probably 
the first case they'd ever worked on, that he hadn't put her life in 
danger.  But just seeing the horror of Erif's work had been hard enough.  
He knew that she had had to use all her incredible strength to control 
herself in this case, and he had tried to make it as easy as possible 
for her.  It had been the wrong thing to do, he soon learnt, but he 
couldn't help himself.  After Barry and Pfaster and many others.... he 
wasn't taking any risks, even if it meant protecting her to the point 
where she hated him for it.
     Hearing the shower turn on and pushing away the image that sprung 
to his mind, he went to his modest kitchen.  For a bachelor pad, even 
Scully had once admitted it wasn't bad.  The fridge didn't provide the 
rare conditions which often housed the growth of new and alien forms of 
life (though he wished it did), and he opened it now.  Sour milk, eggs, 
butter, a couple beers, a bottle of white wine, one apple, a few slices 
of left over pizza and a half empty box of chocolates.  Mulder threw 
away the milk with a shudder: he distinctly remembered buying the milk 
the day before the Erif case.
     The wine and chocolates were from the Lone Gunmen, who had taken 
pity on Mulder, who had come to them, ten pounds lighter with bags under 
his eyes from hard work and lack of sleep over Erif, asking for a 
favour.  They had just had their annual 'Conspiracies, Abductions, 
Cover-ups and Other Governments Unpleasantries' meeting, which, sadly, 
Mulder had to miss for the first time, and they had given him the left 
overs.  They had actually offered him many other things too, but he had 
declined, only taking the wine and chocolate just to keep them happy.  
Had he taken anything else, he probably would have been liable for 
investigation by the FBI, CIA, NSA and several small country governments 
(and a few big ones too).
     Nothing else in his fridge looked promising, and despite his jokes 
he was *not* going to eat the fish food.  He threw the pizza away 
without even looking at it and went to the bathroom door.  It was 
slightly ajar and he could see the mirror all steamed up, but showing a 
fuzzy reflection of an even fuzzier outline.  Scully.  Not bothering to 
avert his eyes, he stuck his head in the door, knowing he wouldn't see 
anything.
     ``Listen, I checked the fridge, there's nothing.  Want to order a 
pizza?  I know that's not your usual diet but....''
     ``Pizza's fine,'' she said surprising him.
     ``Um, okay, what do you want to your half?''
     ``Whatever you're having.''
     This surprised him even more.  Scully was trusting him to make the 
choice?  ``Okay, one anchovy, pineapple, pepperoni with extra sausage 
coming up,'' he said, testing her.
     ``Don't forget the seafood,'' she answered easily.
     Mulder scrunched up his face in disgust, ``Scully, that's not 
funny.''
     Scully peered round the shower curtain, hair plastered against her 
face.  ``Mulder,'' she said, ``get out of the bathroom.''  Then 
retracted back out of view.
     Conceding defeat, Mulder slunk back to the phone and dialled for 
the pizza.

End Part 1/5


Batttle of Wills ~ Part 2

     Scully was just finishing her shower and was trying to slow her 
racing pulse.  She knew he couldn't have seen anything, but his 
proximity had made her flushed.  His expression and motive had been 
nonchalant, so why did she feel as if she were a teenager and her crush 
had just walked the long way home just so he could walk past her house?
     Towelling herself down (after shutting and locking the door), she 
pushed the childish thought out of her mind.  Reaching for her clothes 
she felt her cheeks redden.  They weren't there.  In her rush she had 
forgotten to pick them up from in Mulder's room.  Just as he kept 
clothes at her house, and she left a set at his.  She was completely at 
his mercy.  The situation was as worrying as it was humorous.
     ``Um, Mulder?'' she called softly sticking her head out the door, 
cinching the bath robe.  No answer.  Well, of course not, the decibel 
level wouldn't have woken a sleeping insomniac mouse.
     Or caught the attention of a certain insomniac fox.
     ``Mulder?'' she called, louder.
     She could faintly hear him talking to the pizza delivery service on 
the phone.  She sighed.  How did she get herself into these situations?  
She vaguely considered getting the clothes herself from the drawer she 
knew they were in.  It wasn't like she was naked, he'd seen her in less.  
Besides, it wasn't like he had any sexual attraction to her that had to 
be quelled, she thought dryly.
     She listened.  Mulder was repeating his address slowly in an 
frustrated voice.  She took it the guy on the other end wasn't being 
very helpful.  She knew she could probably make it, so she stuck her 
head out and walked to the drawer.  She pulled it open, grabbed 
underwear, a top and a pair of black loose sweat pants.  Turning, she 
saw Mulder enter the room and stop in his tracks.  She expected him to 
make a crack at her lack of clothes but instead, he quickly averted his 
eyes, in an embarrassment almost childlike in its innocence.
     ``Sorry, I forgot to get my clothes before going in,'' she said 
hiding her confusion, trying to ease his embarrassment.  Speaking 
casually and acting indifferent, she closed the drawer and took her 
clothes.
     Taking the hint he relaxed and looked at her but she noticed that 
he keep his eyes firmly on her face.  ``I like the look Scully, is it 
what's in this season from the Victoria's Secrets catalogue?''
     ``I don't know Mulder, you tell me.  Or is that too tame for your 
reading tastes?'' she said as she breezed past to the bathroom.
     ``Ouch,'' he said, following her.  ``I was just coming to confirm 
the pizza order.  Just ham, cheese and tomato okay?''
     ``Sure,'' she said closing the door to the bathroom.
     Mulder went to the phone, confirmed the order then went and hovered 
outside the bathroom for a minute, deciding whether to speak or not.
     The door opened unexpectedly and Scully came out, practically 
bumping into him, ``Jeez, Mulder, you have an unhealthy interest in your 
bathroom door,'' she said.  She looked at him expectantly, waiting for 
the next witticism.
     ``Do you want some wine?'' he said offhandedly, surprising her.
     ``You stock wine in your house?'' she asked sceptically, raising an 
eyebrow.
     He grinned, ``Of course Scully.  You don't think I can rely on my 
good looks alone to seduce the hundreds of women who grace my 
apartment.''
     ``If I know the type of women who grace your apartment, all *you* 
need is a free hand to hold the remote control.''
     ``Double ouch Scully,'' he said, giving her a wounded puppy dog 
look, ``twice in one night.  Is this `Abuse Mulder Day' or have you been 
talking to Pendrell?  I swear Scully, I did not say all those things 
about you.''
     She knew he was baiting her.  ``Every day in `Abuse Mulder Day','' 
she said dryly.
     They smiled at each other in a similar long moment, thinking the 
same thoughts neither would speak, daring the other to.  But neither 
would.  Mulder had finally found his match in determination and will, 
and he would never be able to make her bend first.
     But it was far too much fun to stop trying.
     ``So, do you want some?'' he asked breaking the silence.
     Scully looked at him thoughtfully, ``Okay.''
     He turned and went to the kitchen, hiding his secret amazement.  
Opening the fridge, he saw Scully get out two glasses from the cupboard 
and find the other bottle of red that the LG had given him.
     Without a word, needing none, they swapped bottles and Scully took 
out the corkscrew from a drawer.
     ``So where did you get these?'' she asked as she began to screw it 
into the cork.
     ``Langly, Byers and Frohike heard I wasn't scoring as easily as I 
used to, you know, being the hard working agent I am, so they gave it to 
me as a present.  Along with a recommendation of a really good plastic 
surgeon.''
     She laughed. ``Had any luck?'' she asked dryly.
     ``I'll tell you by the end of the evening,''  he said with an 
exaggerated leer, ``but I might not tell the Gunmen; Frohike might never 
speak to me again.''
     ``I might not either,'' she retorted, as she pulled the cork out of 
her bottle.  Placing it on the counter, she reached for his and started 
again.
     ``Is that if I have something to tell you by the end of the 
evening, or if I don't?'' he asked slyly, filling her glass.
     ``That is if you ever tell the Gunmen anything concerning me, a 
bottle of wine and your apartment,'' she said dryly.
     ``In a context like that, I wouldn't need to tell them anything.''
     She darted him a look, ``Don't even think about it.''
     He was about to respond, when she pulled open the second bottle and 
filled his glass.  Getting up and sitting on the counter, she raised her 
glass to his.
     They looked at each other for a moment trying to put their thoughts 
into words.  Scully spoke first.

End Part 2/5


Batttle of Wills ~ Part 3

     ``Here's to the best agent and profiler I've ever worked with, 
without whom Erif would still be running loose,'' she said with 
surprising tenderness.
     He snorted, ``Without whom you wouldn't have been abducted, 
kidnapped, assaulted, tested on, nearly killed and/or eaten by bugs, 
mutants and cannibals.  But where's the fun in that?'' he spoke 
self-deprecatingly.
     She smiled gently, ``Without whom, the cases may never have been 
solved.''
     He grimaced, ``They were hardly what you would call solved.''  Then 
he spoke with vehemence, surprising them both, `` And you never would 
have been in those situations if it weren't for me,''
     ``But I would have been in many others,'' she said tenderly, 
``That's the risk I have to accept Mulder, as a woman, as an FBI agent 
and as a law enforcer.  I can take care of myself, you know that.''
     ``Yeah, I of all people know that,'' he said, his voice warm with 
admiration.
     She smiled in return, ``And at least I have a good partner.  When 
he's around,'' she added teasingly.
     Mulder seemed to have suddenly discovered a deep and intense 
interest in his kitchen floor.
     ``Mulder, look at me,'' she said.  He glanced at her then resumed 
his scrutiny.  She put a finger under his chin and raised his face 
gently.  His eyes met hers and she took her hand away.
     ``I don't blame you Mulder, and you shouldn't either.  I wouldn't 
and don't want anyone else as a partner, even after all we've been 
through.  Especially after all we've been through,'' she corrected 
herself.
     A twinkle appeared in her blue eyes and a smile played on her lips, 
``Sure, I could work in a normal section of the Bureau, with a normal 
partner who lets me drive more than once every millennium and doesn't 
hang up on me all the time.  One who actually listens to what I say, and 
doesn't ditch me every week or so to some barren location, not telling 
me where he is more often than not, and returning with the most 
incredible injuries, and even more incredible stories.''  She paused for 
breath and smiled, the stars shining in her eyes.  ``But where's the fun 
in that?''
     Mulder had never wanted to kiss anyone more in his entire life than 
he wanted to kiss Scully right then, but he merely grinned.  ``I listen 
to you Scully,'' he said with mock indignation.
     She smiled beautifully at him and he pushed back a stray lock of 
red hair, letting his hand rest on her soft skin a moment longer than 
necessary, before pulling away.  He raised his glass to her.  ``Here's 
to the strongest, warmest, most intelligent and most brutally honest 
woman I know,'' he said.
     ``I do hope you're talking about me,'' Scully said with mock 
concern.
     They smiled at each other, clinked glasses, put them down 
carefully, and found themselves wrapped in a tender embrace.
     They held each other for what felt like an eternity.  Mulder 
breathed in the sweet scent of her hair, felt the soft touch of it on 
his cheek, felt the warmth through his hands as he gently rubbed her 
back.  God, how he'd missed her.  Not just when she had been taken, but 
when she left.  To go home at the end of the day, or even to check on an 
autopsy of a victim.  Now, with Scully in his arms, it was so easy to 
forget all that, and not to think about the next time she would leave.
     By her own will, or someone else's.
     Scully felt warm, safe, protected and loved.  There was a comfort 
in Mulder's arms that was unparalleled anywhere else.  With her head on 
his chest, she could hear his heart beat reassuringly.  Heat diffused 
through his thin T-shirt giving her more than warmth.  It gave her 
strength.
     They both pulled back slightly, until their faces were mere inches 
apart.  So near, yet so far.  They slowly, painstakingly cautiously, 
crept towards each other lips.
     Mulder was holding his breath, how often had he dreamed of this?  
How much could he control himself?  Was he strong enough to resist the 
hunger that he knew could possibly threaten his career and ruin his life 
if it wasn't what she had wanted?
     Scully felt both helpless and totally in control, which she'd never 
felt before.  Like she was free falling, but she could choose which way 
to go.  She felt herself falling, deeper and deeper.  It was going too 
far, the battle of wills was going too far.  But why did it feel so 
right?
     Scully found to her surprise a tear was gliding down her cheek, and 
then also noticed a shining in Mulder's eyes.  Closer, closer, 
closer....
     They stopped a hair's breath away from each other.  Each waited for 
the other to make that final push, move that final distance.  But 
neither did.  It was the ultimate battle of wills.  Who would be the 
first to confess with a kiss?  Or who would be the first to pull away?
     There was a knock at the door which startled them both so much 
Scully recoiled, and banged her head on the cupboard behind her with a 
hollow thud that echoed throughout the apartment, and Mulder nearly fell 
over backwards. 
     ``You okay?'' he asked, placing a gentle hand on the back of her 
head.
     She gave him The Look.  ``I'm fine Mulder,'' she said.  Biting back 
a smile, he nodded and went to the door.
     ``Pizza,'' said a bored voice when he opened it.  He paid the guy, 
took the pizza and closed the door.  He heard Scully in the bathroom, 
probably looking for some Aspirin, and took the time to slump up against 
the door.
     What had he almost done?  He didn't know what to feel.   Relieved?  
Disappointed?  Hopeful?  All of the above?  All he did know was, that 
once again, he was the cause of Scully's pain.
     Moving to the bathroom, he noticed the still untouched glasses of 
wine and started to wonder if it was such a good idea.  They hadn't even 
started drinking yet and already they had almost made out on his kitchen 
counter.
     Scully was searching through Mulder's bathroom in search of some 
painkillers.  Her brain felt like it had been used as a gong, and it was 
making her feel faint and light headed (probably more from the near kiss 
than the bang on the head), thankfully helping her ignore her feelings 
of disappointment and longing, leaving only anger at herself.  Why had 
she almost done it?  It wasn't practical, wasn't reasonable.  She paused 
looking guiltily at herself in the mirror, ``Now you've done it,'' she 
murmured.
     ``You okay Scully?'' Mulder's muffled voice called.  She opened the 
door to let him in.  ``Do you have any pain killers?'' she asked.
     ``Turn around,'' he said.  She turned and felt him stroke the back 
of her head, parting the hair.  The pain lessened with his touch, but 
she was sure that was just a trick of the mind.
     ``Well, you're not bleeding anyway,'' he said, turning her gently 
to face him.  They looked at each other, searching in each others eyes 
what the other felt.  Anger?  Guilt?  Desire?  Mulder saw no accusation 
or anger in Scully, only questions, which relieved him.  Scully saw no 
guilt or shame, only apology and that `Don't be mad at me' look she 
found so endearing.  But there was a yearning in both their eyes which 
was noticed by the other, but not acknowledged.
     ``Sorry, no painkillers, but there's probably LSD in the water.  
Will that do?  That's some sort of killer anyway,'' he joked.
     She smiled at him and shook her head slowly.  ``Okay, I suppose I 
can see what I've got,'' he said, looking through drawers, pulling out a 
box of Aspirin.  ``Here we are.  Good for alien/government test pain 
relief, mutant attacks, retro-viruses, alien DNA transfusions and even 
that old pizza delivery man headache.''
     She took it from him, ``For your injuries, you'd need more than 
Aspirin, you'd need morphine,'' she said.
     ``I've got some of that too.  It's a regular crack house.''
     They walked back to the kitchen where the pizza was sitting 
waiting.  Mulder took the box and Scully took the bottles and glasses, 
and wordlessly took them to the couch in his living room.  They sat at 
opposite ends, facing each other, like two armies on the front line, 
feeling out each others No Man's Land.
     ``You're wearing one of my favourite tops,'' Mulder noted taking a 
bite.
     She glanced down at it.  It was dark blue, tight, long sleeved with 
a narrow low V-neck and a collar.  ``Really?  I thought it was one of 
mine.''
     With as close to a laugh as she had heard from him, he retorted, 
``I love it when women wear my clothes,'' he said sarcastically.
     It was one of his favourite tops, one of his favourite to watch her 
in too.  And he loved watching her.  A pace, a glance, a turn of the 
head, the flash of her throat as she breathed, even her way of standing 
perfectly still, they were all his spies.
     Scully took a sip of her wine to wash down the pizza, an odd 
combination, granted, but surprisingly good together.  Not unlike 
another pair she knew....

End Part 3/5


Batttle of Wills ~ Part 4

     ``I remember when I first noticed you in it,'' Mulder continued, 
also taking a sip of his wine.
     ``You do?'' she asked incredulous.  Men didn't remember clothes, 
say nothing of when they first saw an item of clothing.
     ``I had just woken up and the first thing I saw was light.  I 
thought maybe I was dead and I turned my head and saw an angel.''  He 
spoke casually, seemingly nonchalantly.  ``Then the image sharpened and 
the next thing I know, I'm looking into your face.  That was what you 
were wearing,'' he gestured to her top.
     ``I'm impressed Mulder,'' she said her tone implying the opposite.  
She ignored his comparison, knowing he was trying to throw her, trying 
to make her crack first.  He wouldn't get the satisfaction, she thought 
determinedly.  ``When was this?''
     ``After getting the retro-virus and you saved me in Antarctica,'' 
he said casually, picking up another slice.
     Pouring them both another glass, Scully also remembered when they 
had gone to Icy Cape.  ``How is it you always get infected by some 
peculiar organism?'' she asked.  ``Or at least make us think you do,'' 
she added.
     He raised an eyebrow, ``I assume you mean the worm.''
     She nodded.  ``Ah, yes,'' he reminisced, ``the first of many 
wonderful times we've had when you point a gun at me,'' he chided.
     ``I was worried Mulder.  Besides,'' she said, taking another slice, 
`'at least I didn't shoot you.''
     ``Thanks Scully. Waiting until you got a better shot, right?  You 
really scare me when you do that.''  He bowed his head in shyness of his 
own emotions, ``Like the time at your mother's.''
     The moment that ensued was silent.  The cannons had stopped.  The 
white cloth raised.
     Scully thoughtfully drained her glass and realised that they had 
never really talked about everything that had, or at least, had very 
nearly happened.  Maybe, tonight would be a good time to get it out in 
the open.
     ``It was terrifying for me too, Mulder,'' she confessed softly, 
``Everything I ever believed, everything I had come to trust, shattered 
around me.''  She shuddered and looked him right in the eye, taking on a 
serious tone, ``I couldn't believe what I nearly did.''
     He was quick to defend, ``Well, it's not like you were the only 
offender Scully,'' he said, ``remember Modell?  I nearly killed you.''  
He felt a bit fuzzy and noticed absently he was more than half way 
through his bottle.
     Scully was feeling the same.  Half of the pizza sat forgotten on 
the table.  ``Of course I remember Modell,'' she said.  Her tone took on 
a joking tone, ``G-man decided to go on a suicide mission into the 
hospital.''
     ``Well, not quite suicide.  I survived didn't I?''
     ``Barely.  I remember seeing what you were doing on the screen,'' 
she continued seriously.  ``I didn't know what to do, Mulder,'' she 
confessed, the alcohol loosening her tongue.  ``But I liked it.  I liked 
the closeness.  Of the camera headset,'' she hastened to add, not 
mentioning the tender moment they had shared before and after he went 
in.  But he knew what she was thinking of: he was thinking the same 
thing.
     Scully let her mind drift back into that hospital, enjoying the 
unique sensation of seeing through Mulder's eyes.  She had never felt so 
close to him.  She felt like a part of him, of his thinking process.  
His words were spoken right into her ear through the head phones, right 
into her mind, giving her the illusion of their minds being one.  
Einstein once said ``Friendship is one mind, in two bodies.''
     Mulder also went back in time.  Mulder could almost feel Scully 
watching through the camera.  He liked the idea that they were so close, 
that she was almost in his head.  Ordinarily that would be a wholly 
unpleasant thought for Mulder but he found he rather enjoyed the 
intimacy.  He liked having her whispering in his ear, it felt like he 
had a guardian angel.  And despite the overall apprehension, he felt 
safe knowing she was there with him.  That he could draw on her 
strength.  That - even if for a while - he could draw from her 
incredible banks of knowledge and be almost as smart as she was.
     That he could feel what it must be like to be the omnipotent Dana 
Katherine Scully.
     Scully fell back in time, and was there with him.  Mulder had the 
gun, and Modell told him to shot himself.  She recalled the fear.  And 
the doubts.  Was Modell powerful enough to make Mulder shoot himself?  
Was Mulder powerful enough to resist?
     To lose Mulder to his own hand....
     To lose him....
     Mulder screwed up his face, put the gun to his head and pulled the 
trigger.
     Click.
     ``NO!''
     Nothing.
     ``DAMN YOU!''  Scully remembered jumping out of chair, ready to rip 
Modell's throat out.  ``YOU BASTARD!  Mulder, hand me the gu....''  
Mulder grabbed Scully's arm viciously, still staring at Modell.
     Then, with a soft grunt of reluctance, he pointed it at her.
     Scully was stunned.  Then, despite the situation she found herself 
in, she was struck by incredible awe at Modell's strength.  Turning 
Mulder against himself was extraordinary in itself, but turning Mulder 
against an innocent, a friend..... was an act of God.
     And for the first time in her life, Scully doubted him.
     Now it was pointed at her.
     ``I was too close,'' Mulder whispered, reliving it.  His heart was 
breaking.  He was so powerless, so weak.  He was holding up the most 
important woman in his life for Christ's sake!  And the look in her 
eyes.... the hurt, the fear.... it charged his anger so much he found 
the strength to speak.  ``I'm gonna kill you Modell,'' he threatened 
him, in his perfect memory.
     Mulder remembered being very, very frightened.  What if he wasn't 
strong enough?  He wasn't Scully.  What if he killed her?  Oh God.  He 
had to save her, even if it was from himself.
     The desperation gave him the concentration to ward Modell back 
enough for his eyes to flicker again with life.
     ``Scully, run...'' he remembered whispering, hating himself, but 
with a growing panic, he still felt himself begin to pull the trigger.  
Scully started backing away.  She looked so scared of him.
     Of him....
     ``Scully...'' his eyes filled with pain, his voice heart breakingly 
anguished.  Mulder had never hated himself more than he did now.  What 
was he doing?!  He was pointing a gun at Scully!  His partner, his 
friend, his....
     He tried to speak to her but the words froze in his throat.  The 
strings pulling his mind wouldn't allow it.  So instead, he spoke with 
his eyes, knowing if they ever got out of this, he would never be able 
to say it anyway.  He pleaded for forgiveness, for strength, and 
expressed his sorrow, his.... love?
     But the strings yanked his will away from him and his eyes dulled 
again before Scully could see anything for sure.
     She saw how this was hurting him, how much he was hating himself 
and Modell, and she shared his pain.  And his sentiments.
     And without warning, they were back in his living room, on his 
couch.  Mulder opened his eyes, only just realising he had closed them.  
Scully opened hers too, looking just as surprised.  They looked at each 
other curiously.  Had they just shared the same experience?
     They both smiled at the same time.  Maybe they didn't need a two 
way radio to be one.  Maybe, they already were.
     ``Talk about experiencing the magic of the movies in the safety of 
your own home,'' he said in his usual wry way.

End Part 4/5


Batttle of Wills ~ Part 2

     Scully took a good look at Mulder through slightly blurry eyes.  
``Mulder,'' she said concerned, ``you've lost weight.''
     He glanced down at himself with the equally blurry eyes.  ``Gee, 
Scully, I guess the diet really worked huh?'' he said thickly.
     ``What diet?''
     ``The cockroach diet.''
     Scully sighed.  The flag was down, the cannons armed and ready.
     ``Mulder, you hate insects.''
     He sighed melodramatically, ``Oh, the price I pay to be beautiful 
for you Scully.''
     ``Big macho man,'' she teased.
     ``Little foot,'' he retorted good naturedly.
     She stretched her legs out and settled deeper into the couch.  They 
didn't even reach him.  Mulder did the same and settled his feet in her 
lap.  ``Foot massage,'' he requested.
     Scully looked down at them, then up and him with a bemused 
expression on her face.  ``But will you still respect me in the 
morning?'' she said jokingly.
     Nodding his head with almost childlike eagerness, Scully sighed and 
picked up his foot, stroking and kneading it.  Mulder let his head roll 
back, enjoying the sheer bliss of her touch.
     But it wasn't long before Mulder lifted his head to look at her.  
Scully waited expectantly.
     ``Did you ever ask him how you were going to die?'' he blurted out 
for no reason, his erratic thoughts leaping and swerving through his 
mind.
     ``What?'' she asked bewildered.
     ``Clyde Bruckman.  Insurance Salesman.  Amateur psychic.  
Remember?''
     She felt tears in her eyes threatening to spill.  ``I'll never 
forget,'' she whispered.
     ``Did he ever tell you how you were going to die?'' Mulder asked 
again.
     Scully looked at Mulder, wondering where this was leading, not 
wanting to tell him the answer, fearing it sounded arrogant and 
condescending.
     ``Do you want to live forever?'' she asked him seriously.
     ``Um, wait,'' he said trying to think, ``I know that one.''
     ``Seriously Mulder.''
     ``I am serious,'' he protested, ``I know that one, and I had an 
answer.  I good one too.''  He thought for a few more moments before 
giving up and answering truthfully.
     ``I don't know,'' he said sincerely.
     ``Me neither,'' she whispered.
     ``Is that what he said?'' he asked gently.
     She nodded wordlessly, looking away.
     ``Well, that's one less worry on my mind,'' he said grinning.
     She glanced back at him, shooting him a smile, ``Does that mean 
you're going to stop body guarding me?''
     He grinned, ``Never.''
     ``So you don't believe....''
     ``I believe in him,'' he said, ``Do you?''  he asked lightly.
     Scully chewed thoughtfully on her lip, ``No,'' she said in a voice 
slightly too high pitched to be truthful, ``I don't know,'' she 
confessed honestly.  ``But if you believe him, than how do you explain 
it?'' she posed.
     Mulder sat up straighter, looking her in the eye.  ``Emotions or 
opinions effect people's state of mind, right?  So why shouldn't they 
effect subconscious states of mind?  He liked you Scully, a lot.  He 
respected you too.  I think that emotional attachment altered his 
ability to predict your death, giving the impression of an non-existent 
death, instead of an unpredictable one.''
     A twinkle appeared in her eyes, ``You calling me unpredictable, 
Agent Mulder?'' she teased.
     ``No, only your death,'' he responded seriously, ``though I wish it 
wasn't, it would sure take a load off my mind.''  He looked at her 
thoughtfully, ``What do you suppose it would be like to live forever?''
     ``Monotonous.''
     ``Aside from that.''
     She considered this and spoke, ``When I was younger, I once read a 
story about a man who could capture Death.  And he couldn't die because 
Death was scared of him.  The Grim Reaper wouldn't touch him, for fear 
of imprisonment.  He was left to walk the land forever after, watching 
all those he loved die and turn to dust.''
     Mulder shivered, ``Living Hell.''
     Scully agreed, ``But that's what it would feel like I guess.''
     ``So you wouldn't want to?''
     She watched him, ``Not if....''
     Her words were left hanging in the air.  They both knew the answer 
and the words Auto Erotic Asphyxiation drifted between them.
     ``Well, I at least know what to make you avoid,'' she quipped, 
``All I need to do is keep you too busy for anything but work.''
     ``I'm never *that* busy,'' he told her.
     She raised an eyebrow.  ``I suppose so.  Why do you ask Mulder?'' 
she questioned, changing the subject.
     ``Just wondering.''
     ``Mulder,'' she said warningly.
     He removed his feet from her lap and swung them over the side of 
the couch.  ``So I'd know what to make you avoid,'' he said quietly, 
standing up.
    Scully was stunned, his whole manner and tone suggested more than 
friendly concern or jokes.  Was he admitting it?  Or was he making her 
think he was so she would?  You could never tell with Mulder.
     Mulder got to his feet and took a step before a dizziness overcame 
him from the wine and he stumbled.  Scully was up trying to help him but 
she was slow too, and just as unsteady.  She fell back onto the couch 
and Mulder knocked his head against the side table.  Scully went to him, 
and knelt on the floor.
     ``You alright Mulder?'' she asked anxiously.  He was lying on his 
back, but propped himself up on one elbow, holding his head.
     ``Gee, you weren't kidding Scully,'' he said painfully, ``It is 
`Abuse Mulder Day'.''
     Scully suppressed a smile, and noticed blood.  ``Hold on,'' she 
said going to the kitchen and wetting a towel.  Her mind was still 
reeling, what would she do?
     She made her easy decision.  Enough of *him* baiting *her*, *him* 
testing *her*, *him* tempting *her*.  It was her turn.
     Scully was not thinking so much about the end result, as the 
process of beating him.  Beating him at his own game, she thought 
wickedly.
     Ordinarily such a thought would have been unthinkable, but the 
alcohol was unlocking emotions and thoughts she thought she'd buried 
deep enough to remain buried.  But this was her time, if Mulder didn't 
crack under the pressure....
     She took the towel back to him and tenderly placed it on his head.  
Helping him get up onto the couch, she pushed him back gently.  Sitting 
on her end of the couch, she guided Mulder to lie down, his head on her 
lap.  As he stretched out his legs, Scully leaned back against the back 
of the couch, flexing her stiff neck, but careful to hold the towel in 
place.
     No Man's Land suddenly got a lot smaller.
     ``So where did you think you were going before you nearly 
lobotomised yourself?'' she asked.
     ``Um, I don't remember,'' he said lamely.
     She laughed at him, ``Sure,'' she said.
     They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Mulder trying not 
make his libido too obvious, and Scully suppressing the urge to caress 
him.  Which were things they both found they often did.
     ``Would you-?''
     ``Could you-?''
     They both stopped and smiled at each other, and Scully gently began 
to massage Mulder's head.
     ``I could get used to this,'' she said, looking down at him, ``It's 
nice to be above you for once.''
     ``Don't enjoy it too much,'' he said dryly, feeling sleepy.
     Scully thoughts wandered while they sat there.  It was a night of 
confessions and discussion so why not ask what she had always wanted to 
discuss with him?  ``Have you ever dreamt something to have it happen or 
even got a sort of premonition from it that turned out to be true?'' she 
asked thoughtfully.
     Mulder gave her a confused look.  ``Say that again,'' he said.
     ``Have you ever had a dream where the events happened after you 
woke up?'' she said, ``Or had a dream that told you something which 
turned out to be true?''
     ``Well, most people do, statistically,'' he said, ``because most 
people *want* them to mean something, so they twist their dreams to mean 
something.  But yes, I have.''  He grinned, ``My dreams are frightfully 
explicit.''  He looked at her, ``Why? I didn't know you were so 
inclined, Scully,'' he teased.
     ``I didn't either,'' she teased back, ``until I had the dream about 
you.''
     ``Ooooh, this sounds interesting,'' Mulder said becoming alert, 
``Was it shockingly procreative, including me, you, a bottle of caramel 
and a pair of restraints?''
     ``No, actually, it was predictably carnal, including me, you, 
whipped cream and a packet of strawberries,'' she said sarcastically.
     ``I always knew you had a dirty mind,'' he said wickedly, knowing 
what she was trying to do.
     And he was not going to admit it first.  It was childish, it was 
stupid but after all he'd been through, all the threats, the beatings, 
the lies, the manipulation, he was not going to let a cleverly divulged 
image of a sexy little redhead, a dairy product and some pieces of fruit 
make him do what the Government couldn't do: break his determination of 
wills.
     He hadn't lost that battle, and he wasn't going to lose this one.
     Yet.
     But if she noticed, she didn't let on, as she smacked him lightly 
which elicited an comical cry of indignity from him.
     Her tone became serious.  ``I was talking about the dream when you 
told me you were still alive and we were going to continue our work,'' 
she said with the reminisce of the old sadness which would never fade, 
``You know, when we thought you were dead.''  Her voice faded to a 
whisper.
     Mulder gave her a startled look, ``I came to tell you I was still 
alive, covered in cream?'' he asked with joking incredulity.  ``I wonder 
what kind of work I meant,'' he pondered out loud.
     Scully was about to give him a snappy comeback when Mulder suddenly 
sat up, sending the towel flying across the room.
     ``Speaking of food, I remember why I got up,'' he told her standing 
up.  He went into the kitchen and came back with the half empty box of 
chocolates.  ``You can't finish a gourmet meal of haute cuisine without 
chocolates,'' he announced offering them to her.
     ``Or one of pizza,'' she said dryly, taking one.  It was dark 
chocolate and she took a bite.  Delicious.
     Mulder also took one and sat down again.  Closer this time, within 
arms reach of her.  He popped the whole thing in his mouth and bit into 
it.
     ``Ummm, Mulder, these are good.  My recommendations to the 
editorial conspiracy theorists,'' she said.
     He murmured his agreement and reached for another.  So did Scully.  
They both reached for the same one, their hands coming into contact.  
Their eyes met and the connection of both hands and eyes lasted a moment 
longer than it should have for two people who were ``just friends''.  
They pulled their hands away simultaneously.
     ``You have it,'' Mulder said, eyes never straying.  She snorted 
with amusement.
     ``Mulder, it's not like it's the last one,'' she said teasingly, 
smiling.  Mulder felt his heart flutter involuntarily at the beauty of 
her smiling face.  Those lips curved in laughter, for him and him alone.  
Those eyes shone with good humour and sensuality, locked with his.  How 
he wished more than anything it were the other way round.
     She took the chocolate, and after a moment of hesitation, she 
slowly raised it his lips.  Gently, she pressed it with feather light 
pressure, to his mouth.  He curved his lips into a half smile and opened 
his mouth.  Scully delicately placed it in the dark warmth and he 
enveloped it.  Rolling it on his tongue, he let the chocolate melt, the 
flavour caressing him like a tender touch.  Scully put her fingers to 
her own lips and, with a sparkle in her eye, she licked them 
coquettishly, cleaning off the chocolate.
     Mulder's heart was thudding like it did after a ten mile run.  He 
was about ready to burst with.... something.  But he knew what she was 
up to, and he wasn't going to let her win.  Not, at least, without 
suffering a little of his pain.
     He picked up another one and lifted it so it was level with her 
mouth, but about an inch away.  He smiled mischievously, never breaking 
the eye contact, his eyes playful.  Without blinking, she moved the 
extra inch and put her lips around the chocolate.  And the tips of his 
fingers.  Mulder gave a sharp intake of inaudible breath.
     Mulder was now uncomfortably hot.  He was as close to blushing as 
he had ever had been in his life.  He gently extracted his fingers from 
her mouth, and she bit into the chocolate, savouring the sweetness.  She 
took another.
     ``Last one,'' she said, not needing to look, `` you have it.''
     ``We each have half,'' was his reply.
     Scully smiled and was hit by a brilliant idea.  She placed the 
chocolate between her teeth, holding it there, but not biting.  Placing 
her hands casually behind her, she gave him a challenging look.  *Do you 
dare?* her eyes taunted.
     Mulder asked himself the same thing.  How far did he dare?  Did he 
really think that she would crack first?  And would he walk away if she 
didn't?  Was he willing to lose because he wanted her so much?
     But even as these thoughts ran through his head, he found himself 
unconsciously leaning toward her.  He stopped just far enough away not 
to be in contact.  And painstakingly, agonisingly slowly, he leaned the 
final distance, opened his mouth, closed his eyes, and took the 
protruding chocolate between his teeth.
     Their lips touched with the lightest of all contacts, and they felt 
the heat from each others' breath as they both held the chocolate in 
place, waiting for the other to bite and pull away.  The moment 
stretched into a minute, the minute into several and no one stirred.
     Then Scully bite it in half.
     But so did Mulder.
     At the same moment, they both broke the bond and the chocolate was 
bitten into two.  And at the same time, they then closed that final 
millimetre between their two lips.  They immersed themselves into it, 
gave themselves up to it.  The sweetness of their kiss was only in part 
from their dessert.  They both felt a hunger which mocked and scorned 
their previous appitite.  And just as they quenched that hunger with 
pizza, the satisfied this hunger with each other.
     Mulder broke away to look into her eyes, ``Do you surrender?'' he 
whispered huskily, the teasing clear in the hazel eyes.
     She smiled, ``I don't need to surrender,'' she whispered back, 
``we've both already won.''
     They both smiled and Mulder bent his head to cover her mouth with 
his.

THE END!!! :-)

Fina-bloody-lly! So? Watcha think? I'm sending out an international 
E-Me-Plea!

(Sorry Nat, couldn't resist!;)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Tirabadian, Jedi Knight, Horse Whisperer, Movie Buff, X-Phile,
Would-be Author, Perpetual Bookworm, Hitch Hiker of the Galaxy, and 
The Last Unicorn-:)
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
*When a friend asks, there is no tomorrow*
"Shee, you guys are so unhip it's a wonder your bums don't fall off." 
~ Zaphod Beeblebrox
POPULARITY IS NOT EMBEDDED IN THE NUMBER OF PEOPLE WHO LIKE YOU,
BUT IN THE REASONS WHY.
Bedevere: What makes you think she's a witch?
Peasant: Well she turned me into a newt!
Bedevere: A newt?
Peasant: I got better.
Crowd: BURN HER ANYWAY!
                        ~ "Monty Python and the Holy Grail."
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