TITLE: Called (1/1) AUTHOR: Shoshana EMAIL ADDRESS: shoshana1013@excite.com DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer, Spookys site, Xemplary, etc. SPOILER WARNING: Through sixth season RATING: PG CONTENT STATEMENT: MSR CLASSIFICATION: VRA KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully romance SUMMARY: Mulder comes to Scully's rescue. DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. NOTE: Thanks to my great beta readers Meggo and Teresa! Called By Shoshana ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ October 1999 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It was after midnight. I had settled down on the couch, beer in one hand, remote in the other. I thought it was Frohike calling, so I answered gruffly, barking out each syllable, anxious to be rid of him. It was Scully and her voice sounded controlled, yet tense, as though someone was holding her at gunpoint, forcing her to speak into the phone. "Mulder?" "Yeah, Scully? Is something wrong?" "Well, yes... It's not an emergency. I don't want you racing over here, okay? But I'd like you to come over as soon as you can. Please..." "On my way..." I said, and hung up the phone. Something was wrong. I could tell from the quavering tone of her voice that something was wrong. I rushed out of the apartment, grabbing my gun and my keys in one fell swoop. I ignored her advice, violating traffic laws on the way over. I made it in record time, racing up to her outer door, fumbling with the key like a madman. I drew my gun before opening her door. I tried to make as little noise as possible, but it was quite obvious that I was entering her home. I heard her yell from the bedroom, calling my name. I made a quick check of the kitchen and living room areas, then cautiously sidled down the hallway leading to her room. When I got to the doorway, I was wholly unprepared for what I saw. Another time, another place, I might have seen things through a different lens. Might have broken into laughter, made a lewd wisecrack, grinned a mile wide. But we weren't ordinary people and we didn't lead ordinary lives. And this was no time for levity, no time for dirty jokes at her expense. She was sitting on top of her bed, fully dressed, save for her shoes. Her spine hugged the wooden headboard, her ankles were crossed. And her left wrist was handcuffed to her bed. The look of utter despair on her face forced unbidden tears to my eyes. She didn't have to provide any details. I knew what she was fighting with every fiber of her being. She was being called by Them, called through her implant. The same object giving her life could drive her to a fiery death. And God knows what else. I paused to holster my gun, my shoulders slumping in a combination of defeat and relief. Relieved that she was in no immediate danger, defeated by the futility of it all, the endless battle against evil in our lives. Our eyes didn't meet. She had averted hers the instant she ascertained it was me, trying to retain some dignity in a most undignified position. I walked toward her, grief encompassing my heart. Why the fuck was this happening to the woman I loved? Why couldn't they leave her alone? I was responsible for this. I had given her this new hell to suffer through. I had dragged her along for the carnival ride, the one way trip to perdition. She wouldn't be here if I'd been stronger, if I'd chased her away. I could have transferred her without her consent. I could have pissed her off so badly she'd run the other way. But I'm a gutless wonder, preferring to place her at risk through some misplaced love on my part. I knew she didn't see it that way. I knew she believed that she had made her own decisions. But, ultimately, I was at fault, I'd allowed her to follow me too long and too far into this endless abyss. This, this atrocity she was living through, would never cease. I walked slowly to her side and sat down next to her on the bed. She brought her eyes round to mine, seeking solace there. Evidence of tears streamed down her face and I reached over to her night table, plucking a tissue from the rattan holder. She took it from me, dabbing under her eyes, sniffling softly as she searched for words. "Scully, where's the key?" I heard myself say. There was no need for the contemptible things if I was here. I wasn't letting her out of my sight. "'Cross the room," she croaked, her throat sore from weeping. How had she seemed so composed over the phone? An audible illusion, no doubt. I spied the key near the closet door and quickly unmanacled her. She rubbed her wrist with her free hand; even small bones could be chafed easily by the cold, hard steel. She crossed her legs under her, then gestured for me to sit down next to her. "Mulder..." "How'd you know, did you have a lot of warning, Scully?" I had to know how much trouble we were in, how swiftly she could be snatched away from me. She smiled weakly and took my left hand in hers, absentmindedly stroking her thumb against my palm. "I had enough warning. I knew." "Where were you, here?" "It started at the grocery store. I almost didn't make it home, Mulder. I would have cuffed myself to the steering wheel and called you from the lot if I'd had to. I was lucky to make it home without an accident." She was regaining her composure, the opportunity to explain her actions a welcome salve to the disorder within. She continued to hold my hand, clutching it tightly, as if it were her only link to sanity. As if she'd be spirited away if she broke the bond between us. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand, wiping away neglected tears. It still all came down to me. It still was my fault. What the hell were we going to do? "It's not your fault," she said softly, squeezing my hand firmly. She'd read my mind; she always seemed to know when my latest guilt trip was about to color everything around me. Damn, this was hard. She won't even let me blame myself. She won't let me shoulder the responsibility for yet another disaster. "Yes, it is. You wouldn't be sitting here, holding on to me for dear life, if it wasn't for me, Scully. If I hadn't accepted you back after you were abducted, each fucking time, Scully. I made you come back twice. I've made this a living hell for you. Let me take the blame, for God's sake." My voice broke as I spoke, my throat scratched out the bitter words. She was regaining her steadiness, I was rapidly losing mine. I couldn't hold back more sobs now and I tore my hand away from hers, covering my face in ignominy, ashamed to look her in the eye. She tried to sit next to me, to comfort me. Goddammit, I should be consoling her, taking care of her. I swallowed hard and put my arm around her, still unable to meet her eyes. "Mulder... we'll be alright. We'll fight this together. You're here now. I know you won't let anything happen to me." She insistently lifted my chin, forcing me to look in her eyes. They were red, they were bloodshot, but they showed the quality of her character, the resolution to survive. She was more resilient than I'd ever been, more forgiving of human frailty than I'd ever be. I dismissed my own fragility and tried to get my shit together fast. We were wasting time on this angst fest. We should be calling people, finding out if we could stop another tragedy in the making. "I'm sorry, Scully. I just don't, I can't see this happen to you again and again. I want to keep you safe. I feel powerless when things like this happen." "Well, you're here now. And you know what we have to do. We better get in touch with your friends. They can scan the airwaves, get in touch with people they know. We have to try and prevent another mass immolation." We sat quietly, her hand on one of mine, our eyes still locked in some uncanny conversation. She was seeing me at my worst tonight, my most dysfunctional in thought and deed. Our love and trust in one another were my saving grace, my ticket out of this morass of guilt. That she was accustomed to this behavior gave me no relief whatsoever, but I would have to deal with that issue later, much later. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Scully." "I know." We embraced, and her warm body felt so good against mine, I wanted to remain next to her forever. She was smiling when she rose to her feet and pronounced her need to clean up. I agreed, but kept a watchful eye on the bathroom door. Privacy was one thing, her safety another. I wasn't letting her slip away from me through lack of vigilance. I grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table and dialed the Lone Gunmen, asking them to keep a lookout for anything unusual, anything out of the ordinary that might clue us into the likely location of the next gathering of abductees. It was a slim chance, but at least it was some chance. I thought of calling Skinner but ruled it out. He'd probably put Scully on leave if he found out. I couldn't do that to her. She wanted to be an active participant in this fight against our adversaries. And she needed me beside her, to prevent her from following the call. Her family wouldn't understand. Doctors would want to lock her up, institutionalize her till she didn't feel the pull anymore. That would torture her, she'd go nuts confined to four bare walls. We were either together on this or else. Or else, I don't know. But they weren't splitting us up. I wouldn't put those handcuffs back on her unless she asked me to. She came out of the bathroom looking much more relaxed, face washed, makeup reapplied. I wanted to clean up myself, but I was afraid to leave her. Might as well make it into a joke. "Hey, Scully... Why don't you come help your partner wash up?" That prompted a full-bellied laugh from her. She was definitely feeling better, thank God. "Okay, I guess your personal physician can supervise you." "I was hoping she'd be doing more than that," I teased. She smiled back, but skipped the opportunity for a smart remark, asking me, "Did you call them?" "Yeah. They'll call us if there's any sign of trouble. They're really our only hope. I can't notify Skinner, Scully." "I know. I know what he'll do. I don't think I want to deal with that now. Why don't I make some coffee?" "Gotta help me first, Scully. I don't want you alone. I mean that." She leaned against the door jamb and shuffled her feet side to side. She sighed and held out her hand, beckoning me into the bathroom. I followed eagerly, not bothering to suppress my delight in her company. She sat down on the toilet seat and grabbed a towel out of an open cabinet. "Wash." I took it, setting it down on the towel rack. I picked up the soap from the delicate dish on her sink, sniffing it suspiciously. "Phisoderm, Mulder. It doesn't smell girly." I gave her a doubtful look, but proceeded to lather up anyway, washing the salt and grime off my face. I expected to hear the phone ring at any time, but as long as it didn't, I might as well enjoy this little domestic scene we were playing out. She was smiling broadly at me, ready to taunt me some more. "You planning on sleeping here tonight, Agent Mulder?" "You have an objection to that, Agent Scully?" "Well, I'd like both of us to get some rest... but I think I'll have to use the handcuffs again..." I laughed as I splashed more water on my face, then dried off with the towel. "Scully, you're just a mindreader, aren't you? That's just what I was thinking." My tone was light, but there was no leer in my smile. She chuckled a bit at the innuendo and returned my gaze. "Scully?" "Yeah?" "I want you to stand outside the door of the bathroom and count to one hundred." "Why?" "So I can take a pee, Scully," I snickered. "Whoops, sorry, uh, forgot." She looked a bit embarrassed, but managed to spit out, "Seat down when you're finished, Mulder," in an authoritative manner. "Yes, ma'am." She brushed her hand against me on the way out, quite intentionally. I knew it was, she was smiling wickedly when she did it. Just my luck. Scully finally felt playful and any pass I made at her would take advantage of her vulnerability. Maybe that's why she did that. She knew I wouldn't impose upon her. Ever. She trusted me implicitly to be a gentleman. My love for her deepened at that moment; it had already been burgeoning out of control every minute we spent together. "I can't hear you," I said, taking care of my business. "One, two, three, four, five, hurry up, Mulder, six, seven, eight, Mulder, I need coffee to stay awake, nine, ten, eleven, I'm tired of waiting outside this door, Mulder, twelve, thirteen..." I snapped open the door, surprising her. She peered around me, inspecting the seat. I had wisely put it down. No telling what punishment she'd devise for me in this silly mood she was in. We went to the kitchen and I sat down at her small table, clutching the cell phone in my hand like an amulet. Scully made coffee, measuring it out, filling the machine with water. It was going to be a long night. Sooner or later we would get some sleep. If we didn't hear anything before three a.m., I was going to suggest we do that. Somehow. "Scully, do you still feel it?" "Feel what, Mulder?" She gave me a coquettish smile, then continued with pouring the fresh coffee into mugs, ignoring my puzzlement. "You know, Scully. The pull..." I finally asked her, tired of being disregarded. "It diminished after you came over. And I don't feel it now." "Do you think the event is over?" I said, with a shudder I couldn't suppress. "Hopefully... You're not leaving, are you?" "No, no. I was just wondering. I'm going to make a quick call to Frohike and see what they're doing." The guys were monitoring the air waves, scanning the satellites, looking under every virtual rock for information. Nothing was materializing, which really meant that our own government had most likely succeeded in covering up another disaster. Frohike promised to keep searching for clues; he would call me in the morning. I related the information to Scully and she bent her head in thought as we sat at her kitchen table. She looked tired, and I realized at that moment that we were staying up all night for nothing. I got up and grabbed our coffee cups, dumping the contents down the drain. She watched me with amusement as I snatched two beers out of the fridge. "Honey wheat, Scully? Is there nothing you eat anymore that doesn't sound like health food?" "What the hell are you doing, Mulder?" I grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. "Come on, we don't have to stay up all night. Let's watch TV and have a beer to take the edge off. Maybe we can get some sleep." "But, what about?" "I don't think the guys are going to find anything out. If we hear anything about an incident, we'll hear about it on CNN, like everyone else. The truth has probably been suppressed by the government by now." I tugged her over to the couch and gently pushed her down on the cushions. She looked up at me wearily, eyes still dubious of this new strategy of mine. I plopped down next to her and handed her a beer, then took a pull off of my own. Fortunately, there had been a six-pack. I was going to get her to doze off, if I had to sing her a lullaby. She drank her beer in little sips, like she always does, while I commandeered the remote and checked CNN, just to be sure we hadn't missed anything in the news. Nothing there. So, I found a movie I thought she'd like, something with Gregory Peck from the sixties, and settled back into the sofa to relax. "Mulder?" "Mmmm?" "I'm still not sure I shouldn't be watched." "I won't fall asleep. You sleep, you need it more than I do." "Alright." She took another hit off her beer, then sidled over to me, closing the gap between us. I was so startled I almost dropped my beer. She reached around my waist, gluing one hand there, then nudging my shoulder until she could lay her head on my chest. I wrapped my right arm around here, pulling her a little closer. This certainly beat watching the SciFi network, alone on my couch. Which is probably what I'd be doing at two o'clock in the morning if she hadn't called. I tried to stay awake, I really did. After our third beer and a quick trip to the john, I must have dozed off before she did. When I woke, she was still next to me, my arm was still around her. And there were handcuffs connecting us to one another. Clever girl. She must have hid this set under the seat cushions. I chuckled at her resourcefulness. Then reality set in, sending a stabbing sensation through my abdomen. No way were we in the clear yet. She was still at their beck and call. Literally. I felt sick at heart. There was no easy solution. I couldn't be with her every minute of the day. I wanted to be, sure. But even if we were living together, there'd be time when we'd have to be apart. She stirred beside me, waking up slowly. Scully hates mornings. Really hates mornings. I almost got up to get her some coffee, then remembered that I was still attached to her, not unpleasantly so. I wondered where the key was, hoping to unlock us and steal away to the kitchen. She opened her eyes before I could look further. Her eyes blinked away sleep, and she pulled both hands up, rubbing her eyelids with gentle pressure. Then she realized it wasn't only her hand, her wrist, near her eyes. "Oh, God. I'm sorry, Mulder. I forgot. We have to go get the key." "Where?" "I threw it somewhere over there." She pointed toward the other side of the apartment. Awkwardly, we rose from the couch, Scully dragging me behind her. "Here it is." She unlocked the cuffs with the small metal key while we stood near her kitchen. I was grinning like a jackass by now. "Hey, what's so damn humorous?" She was smiling when she said that, so I knew she wasn't all that angry. I put my arm around her and kissed her forehead before she could get away from me. She returned my grin and dropped her head to my chest, mumbling her next words there. "Thanks, Mulder." "No problem. Get some sleep?" "Yeah. You?" "I obviously fell asleep before you, Scully. Didn't I?" "Um, sorry, sorry about the cuffs. I was still scared that I'd leave without you knowing." "I understand," I said softly, nuzzling the top of her head. Which smelled wonderful, felt like satin. She drew herself closer to me, threading her arm behind my back. This felt so good, so right. I was on another plane of existence; my drug of choice was Scully. "Anything on the news?" she queried. "Have to check." I took her hand and led her back to the sofa. She sat down next to me and I took her in my arms, bracing both of us for whatever lies we found. I turned the TV from video mode to CNN and we got our first look at the new horror show, courtesy of the battle between the two alien factions. As we watched, stupefied, Scully clung to me so tightly I thought I might have to ask her to cut it out, to let me catch a few desperate, painful breaths. I endured it, as I endured the horrifying pictures from yet another immolation site. I unhooked her small hands, patiently, gently. Then turned her into my embrace as she sobbed against my chest. There were no words for a time like this. We both knew she could have been killed last night, murdered by our enemies. The stark reality brought tears to my eyes, which I fought back, to no avail. I wanted to be strong for her now. She needed that more than ever. I rocked her in my arms, stroking her back softly, mumbling that it was going to be alright, we were going to be alright. It was a long, long time, or so it seemed, before she regained her composure. "Mulder," she whispered into my chest. "Yes?" The lump in my throat sped back into existence. "I'm so scared." Oh, God. Had she ever said that before? To anyone? Ever? I held her tighter, took her soft, warm hand in my own. What could be said, what could be done now? I could just hold her. That's all I could do. Hold her like I'd never, ever let her go. She sighed, snuggling against my side, caressing my hand with her thumb. She brought our hands to her lips and gently placed a kiss on my knuckles. I leaned down to kiss her forehead and discovered her hot breath, her lips close to mine. She looked straight into my eyes, daring me, asking me, to do it. I kissed her warm lips tenderly, stroking her cheek with my hand. Then, I feathered small kisses over her delicate, tear-stained face, attentive to every millimeter of her lovely complexion. She brought her hands to my face, returning the gesture, as I twined my hands through her hair. I brought my lips down to hers once more and we kissed long and slow, my hands on the nape of her neck, her hands flat against my chest. We broke the kiss and smiled at each other, mutually inspecting our flushed cheeks, our swollen lips. She lowered her eyes, then lowered her head, snuggling back down to my chest as she had before. I pulled Scully against me, as close as I could get her. We remained like that till both our cell phones started ringing at the same time. I gave her one last kiss on the forehead and we disengaged our arms and hands. She retrieved hers from the kitchen, I found mine in my jacket pocket. We conducted our conversations out of earshot, but I could still see her, leaning on a straight-backed chair. The Lone Gunmen had called me. They wanted to make sure Scully was alright. It was eight o'clock and they'd just woken up, afraid for her as soon as they checked the national news. I assured them she was just fine, not bothering to add details, of course. Yeah, boys. I had her chained to me all night. That could feed their fantasies for months. I hung up on them and walked over to eavesdrop on Scully. She was speaking to her mother, assuring her that everything was alright, that she was in no danger. She didn't tell her one word about last night. She did tell her that I was there, that she was never in any peril. Thirty seconds later, she was off the phone, sinking down into the chair she'd been leaning against. I knelt down before her, taking her hands in mine, looking up into those gorgeous, liquid eyes of hers. She smiled down at me and I felt more than blessed, more than happy just to be with her. "Next call is Skinner. Bet ya fifty bucks," she said, competitively taunting me. "You're on, woman." I grinned back at her, squeezing now steady hands in mine. She was back on track. Tears forgotten, equanimity retrieved. I was so proud of her, so elated, she was really here, she was really mine. Or so I hoped, so I wished for, with all the love in my heart. She must have known that, must have sensed how I felt. She brought my palms to her lips, kissing each in turn. Then, placing her hands on my shoulders, she nudged me backwards, gently, persistently, till I found myself on the floor, Dana Scully above me. The danger wasn't over. We faced more than enough trials ahead, an uncertain future, the responsibility to save billions of people from annihilation. But we couldn't dwell on that. We couldn't deny ourselves this sanctuary, this physical expression of all that we had been and all that we could be. We were lost in one another, sharing our love, strengthening our bond forever. I would never let her go. I would never let harm come to her again. I would gladly die before anything happened to her. I hoped she knew that, I prayed I could deliver her from this madness. In the meantime, my beautiful Scully had fallen into my arms, pinned me down, and was kissing me like there was no tomorrow. Maybe there would be no tomorrow. Maybe the aliens would wipe us out by then. Maybe by next Tuesday. But at least we had each other. At least we'd be together for the rest of our storm-tossed lives... fin Please send feedback to: shoshana1013@excite.com Please visit my web page at http://members.tripod.com/shoshana1013/grid2.html Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/ Before you buy.