Date sent:        Mon, 9 Mar 1998 17:46:43 -0600 (CST)
From:             schirmer@uslink.net
Subject:          "NOBODY BUT YOU II" by Josh Schirmer (1/1)


After a few requests, I figured that it was necessary to do a version of
this scene from Scully's point of view. This a nice little break from
longer stories, but that's where my heart lies. I'll disappear for a while
now -- I've got a great idea and it needs to be written. As always, keep
letters coming! I appreciate any comments I can get.

TITLE: "Nobody But You II"
AUTHOR: Josh Schirmer
E-MAIL ADDRESS: schirmer@uslink.net
ARCHIVE: Forward to Gossamer, and to AXFC. Ask before anywhere else.
SPOILERS: Tooms
RATING: PG, for language flares
CLASSIFICATION: V, MSR
SUMMARY: What was Scully thinking during the infamous "I wouldn't put
myself on the line for anybody but you" scene?

****
"Nobody But You II"
 by Josh Schirmer

The moon hung high over Baltimore, casting an eerie glow around the town.
Not a cloud shrouded it's presence; nothing separated it from reaching the
cold earth in full force. The bright, yellow sphere, rested against the
supreme blackness of the nighttime sky, was an awe striking site. One that
captured his eyes perfectly, so decided Agent Dana Katherine Scully.

She sat beside him, studying, analyzing, his every move. She watched as his
eyes jumped from the moon to the large printout she had brought him. He
carefully looked it over, and it made her proud. Anything she could
contribute should earn her points.

It had become quite evident over the past few months that she was crazy
about Fox Mulder; not just to her, but to many other Bureau employees. She
had heard the snickers and comments meant to stay behind her back many
times in the office, and frankly, it royally pissed her off. "Look, there
goes Spooky's girl!" or, "Wonder if Dana's going on a FOX-hunt tonight?" To
hell with them. To hell with them all.

She shook her head slightly, trying to relieve herself of the thoughts.
They were the thoughts of someone who had let another get to them; someone
who needed someone to hold more than ever. Thoughts she wanted to shed,
NEEDED to shed, if she were to keep up her investigation. One slip, she
knew, and she'd be pulled from his side like a cat out of water.

"It's not enough," he finally spoke, his voice frustrated. "It doesn't tie
it to Tooms." Without a second glance, she watched as he tossed them aside,
on to the leather seat. She was a little hurt. She had gone through an
awful lot to get those; exhuming a dead body, working for hours in a lab.
And what had he done? Sat in a damn car.

"Well, it's a start," she chirped, trying to let her offended self come
through. She hated it. He didn't know how much his words hurt; how bad she
needed him. And whenever she got like this, it was best to change the
subject. Her eyes shuffled about the interior of the car, before finally
spotting an old coffee cup. She smirked a little. The best way to change
the subject was to bring up Mulder's cleaning habits.

"Mulder," she quipped, scooping the Styrofoam cup and tray up into the air
and drafting it towards his face. "It's getting a bit ripe in here, don't
you think?" There, she smirked. That'll learn him.

He sniffed vigorously at the air, before slowly bending down towards a
small compartment beneath the radio. She watched, curious, as he shuffled
through the contents, before finally pulling a small object out. He thrust
his prize into the air.

It was an air freshener.

Leave it to Mulder to ruin a joke. "Pine scented!" he smirked, sniffing it,
then thrusting it in her face. Geez. Pine scented was right. She let out an
acknowledging call. It was pine scented beyond the safe levels. Mulder gave
a little nod of approval, then looped it over the rearview mirror.
"Better?" he asked.

Mulder turned his attention to her, staring into her deeply. She stared
back, longing, wishing he would take her into his arms and hold her
tightly. But just as soon as it started, he turned away, jerking back to
the window, into HIS world; freaks, creeps, and little green men. Welcome
to Fox Mulder.

"Tooms hasn't come out of the house all day," he said, distant. "I sat
through a Phillies game, an Orioles game and four hours of Ba Ba Booey.
When it got dark, I took a walk around the block." Okay, so he hadn't sat
in the car ALL day. But he had still done a hell of a lot less for the case
than she had. He turned back to her suddenly. "Do you have that sandwich
that I asked you to bring?"

"Hmm," she acknowledge, immediately jumping to the task of finding it. A
little too perky, Dana? she questioned. 'You need a sandwich? Okay! I'll
jump right to it!' Jesus, that's pathetic. She rummaged through the bag,
trying to act a little less eager, before finally coming upon the
suranwrapped treasure. She exposed it, handing it to him, and, trying to
get her mind off of him, quipped, "It's liverwurst."

He threw his head back in a laughing gesture, and Scully smirked. She found
herself staring at him again, into his gentle eyes, as he unwrapped the
sandwich and brought it to his mouth. Catching herself, she shook off the
stare and spoke. "Mulder, you know that proper surveillance requires two
pairs of agents, one pair relieving the other after 12 hours."

"Article 30, paragraph eight point seven?" he said, knowingly. His voice
was slightly muffled by the sandwich, but she paid it no mind.

"This isn't about doing it by the book!" she protested. "This is about you
not having slept in three days!" This time she didn't catch herself until
it was too late. That was too caring! Too genuine! He'd be on to her in no
time!

But isn't that what she wanted? For him to know?

With a slight shake of the head, she cleared her thoughts. "Mulder," she
began again, carefully checking her words before speaking this time.
"You're going to get sloppy and you're going to get hurt. It's inevitable
at this point!" There. Much better. Much less caring.

Much less the way she wanted it to be.

"A request for other agents to stake out Tooms would be denied. To them we
have no grounds!" She knew that was true. All too true. But she hated
seeing him like this; frustrated, distant, alone. When he was hurting, so
was she. She knew what she had to do.

"Well, then, I'll stay here," she decided. "You go home."

He turned to her, obviously surprised. Why would he be? He had obviously
heard the behind-the-back snickers, too; did he not accept it? Or was he
still oblivious to the fact that she needed him? That he was her only
friend in the world?

Or was he just doing his job?

She knew his motto as well as the next. 'Trust no one.' And boy, what a
motto it was. Scully knew that even now, after nearly a year together, he
still couldn't fully trust her. She was his closest friend, and yet, the
one most distant. And she hated it.

He jerked away from her longing stare again, back towards the window, back
towards his world. With a heavy sigh, he spoke. "They're out to put an end
to the X-Files, Scully," he groaned. "I don't know why, but any excuse will
do." That was true. The way she had seen it, they had been out to shut him
down since the beginning, and SHE had been the initial step. Assigning a
guardian, a SKEPTICAL guardian at that, to drive him out, to monitor him,
to keep him in line. And to keep him away. But from what? "Now, I don't
really care about my record," he continued, "But you'd be in trouble just
sitting in this car."

She knew that. She was aware her career was on the line every time she
followed him on one of his damn crusades. Every time they opened another
X-File, she knew it could mean life or death in employment terms. And
frankly, she didn't care.

"And," Mulder finished, turning his eyes back to hers. "I'd hate you see
you carry an official reprimand in your career file because of me."

Oh, boy.

Her heart beat faster. She had longed to hear something, ANYTHING, to show
that he cared at all. That was it. That proved it. She felt dizzy and
starstruck, but didn't care. She had to say it. She had to tell him.

'Wonder if Dana's going on a FOX-hunt tonight?'

She dropped her head, her heart pounding faster and faster. "Fox..." she
whispered, not knowing what else to say.

But Scully's feelings stopped bubbling with the sudden guffaw from beside
her. She threw her head back up to stare into him again. He smirked,
choking back laughter. Boy, and she thought she had been hurt when he
dismissed her evidence. Jesus, if that was bad, this was like death. Her
obvious pain must've shown through somehow, because he suddenly changed his
mood. "No," he explained. "I even made my parents call me Mulder."

And suddenly, he himself looked hurt, as if he hadn't meant to offend her
at all. He turned his sheepish face away from her, back to the house, and
muttered from a distance, "Mulder..."

She could hurt him, too.

Oh, boy.

"Mulder," she said, her voice near trembling. "I wouldn't put myself on the
line for anybody but you."

The look was one she had expected, anticipated. His gentle, hazel eyes gone
wide with disbelief. His jaw hung loose, on the edge of falling, but he did
not let it. She could see that plainly. He WOULD not let it. He was too
good, too strong for that.

She cursed at herself over and over inside of her head. "I wouldn't put
myself on the line for anybody you," she heard, over and over, almost
mocking her. Jesus, what had she done? This wasn't right at all!

And, once again, as soon as Mulder's surprised look came, it vanished,
making way for the sarcastic eyes she knew all too well. "If there's an
iced tea in that bag," he smirked. "It could be love."

She found herself caught in another stare, but this time she pulled away
first, taking up the bag and beginning the exploration of the contents. She
dug quicker and quicker, hoping, PRAYING, that maybe the can she pulled out
would read "Lipton's". Finally, her fingers rested against something metal.
She grasped it, and with a firm tug, exposed it.

A & W.

Damn it.

"Must be fate, Mulder," she said, trying not to let disappointment show
through, but to no avail. She turned to him, giving him the small can,
letting him quickly inspect it. "Root beer," she explained.

Mulder let out a joking sigh -- of relief? -- leaning his head back against
the seat. She smirked, trying to go along with the joke, but didn't feel
like it. She wanted to leave. Wanted to get the hell away from here, from
him. He had done enough damage for one night.

"You're delirious," she joked back, trying to stick with the good natured
fun he had intended. It wasn't working. "Go home and get some sleep." She
could tell her disappointment was showing through, and frankly, she didn't
care any more. She gathered her papers, scooping them up, reaching for the
door handle.

"Here," Mulder suddenly called. She spun back, perhaps too eager, wondering
what more sarcasm he had to offer. "Take my sandwich. I only had one bite.
You're going to want it later. BELIEVE me." Okay, instead of sarcasm, he
was offering a sandwich. Great. She took the food from him, passing a quick
smile in exchange. "And," he continued. God, just let me go! she thought.
Or do you wish to degrade me more.

"You'll call me if anything happens. I'll be here." She turned back, her
mind suddenly cleared, her heart beating quicker. "Immediately," he
finished. Maybe she had reached him after all! Maybe she had touched him in
a way he hadn't been touched before! Or maybe...

... Maybe it had been there all along.

"I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

She felt like crying.

Slowly, she opened the door, stepping outside into the brisk spring air.
She didn't even think about turning back. She didn't want him to see the
emotion in her face, in her eyes; not now. Not now that he had started to
come around. But she knew that she wouldn't get off that easy. She knew
he'd have something to add. It was Mulder's way. She paused for a moment,
awaiting his voice. "Oh," he chirped. Just like clockwork...! She spun back
to face him.

"And at 11:30? Station 790. Pete Rose Late Night Sports Talk Radio Show."
He smirked his sarcastic smirk. She returned the grin. God, was he
gorgeous! She didn't want to pull away, no matter how mad she had been. She
wanted him. She needed him.

"I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you."

Slowly, she closed the door, turning back towards the crisp Baltimore air.
She began her approach to her automobile, and suddenly found herself
giggling. "Wouldn't miss it for the world," she quipped back, laughing
louder. Opening the car door, she sat down inside, watching as the
headlights to his turned on as he began his exit. She laughed harder and
harder. "I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you," she
repeated, rolling the line over and over in her head. "No body but you."

Slowly, she grabbed for the sandwich, unwrapping it and bringing it to her
mouth. "Scully," she told herself. "Don't worry.

"He'll come around."

Scully laughed, sinking her teeth into the bread.

* * *

Fin