Disclaimer: CC owns the xfiles, but the characters own themselves.
And I'm sorry if you don't want to listen to me Chris, but they came
to me and made me write this. If you would just give them what they
wanted, they wouldn't go looking for somewhere else.
So take that, Mr. I'll-shut-down-your-sites-and-sue-you-for-writing-
-the-real-truth.
Classification: V/R
Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
Spoilers: Memento Mori, Emily, Redux II, Milagro... pretty much all of
the Scully angst/tragedy eps. and some of Mulder's.
Rating: G (there's a slight mention of sex, but absolutely nothing
even remotely graphic)
Archives: contact me first, but I usually say yes.
Summery: Mulder looks at Scully and wonders how his greatest fantasy
became an actual memory.

-*This story is dedicated to Annex, for being such a terrific and
understanding friend. This one is for you.
And now without further delay...*

Axiom
By: Leli


I used to feel like throwing the man who invented meetings into a pit
full of African Crocodiles before feeding time.
But now I'd kiss his feet.
He's given me three hours of doing nothing but stare at the most
beautiful woman in the world.
Skinner is standing next to the projector, showing us slides of a
bizarre murder scene. He thinks that I'm listening, but I'd flunk the
pop quiz.


And then there's Scully.
Sitting across from me, paying attention, asking questions, coming up
with 'logical' theories.
This case should interest me; it's right up my ally, as Scully put it
back at the office.
Scully.
Just those syllables make my heart skip two beats.
If someone were to ask me to describe my feelings for her, I wouldn't
know what to say.
Love?
Love sounds like such an understatement.
I worship her.
I adore the person that she was, I'm so incredibly in love with the
person that she is, and I love the person that she's going to be.
I love everything that she's ever said and all the places that she's
ever been to.
I love Mrs. Scully for bringing her into this world.
Hell, I even love Bill Scully for being a part of her life and
shaping the person that she is now.
God knows that I don't deserve her.
I consider myself to be a tough guy; I can stare death in the face
and laugh. I'm not just saying that, I've actually done it.
But just one hint of a smile from her and my knees turn into jelly.
I never really believed all that lovey-dovey-mushy stuff.
I thought that it was all a bunch of BS. That Hallmark and big time
Tinsletown producers had conspired to implant those thoughts into
every poor unsuspecting individual with the help of suggestive
subliminal commercials, but I guess that I've been proven wrong.
She's the last thing that I think about before I go to sleep and
she's the first thing that I think about when I wake up in the
morning. And as for in-between, let's just say that my dreams have
been very Scully induced lately. Not that they weren't before.


I snap out of my fantasy when I realize that some sleaze from
homicide is giving my enigmatic doctor 'the look'.
Look at that, 'My Doctor'. I guess that I can't argue with Scully
anymore about being possessive.
I can't help it. If another guy had her, I would move heaven and
earth and turn them both inside out to get her.
But then Scully does something that makes me fall even more in love
with her, just when I thought that I had reached the ultimate limit.
She gives him a look that clearly says: "see that guy across the
table? I'm his, so you better get your eyes off of me if you want
them to stay in their sockets."
Then she looks at me and our eyes lock.
I wonder what she's thinking about.
Last night? I don't remember even making it to the bed.
The night before that? When we 'broke in' my new couch?
I know what she's thinking of.
She knows that I know.
I watch with amusement as a deep crimson color begins to cover her
face. Her beautiful Irish features giving away all of her emotions.
Scully blushing is the most delicious thing in the world.
I take great pride in knowing that I can make her turn the color of a
ripe tomato in a few seconds, just by exchanging some non-verbal
thoughts with her.

"Agent Mulder?"
An extremely annoyed voice awakens me from my daydreams, I search my
brain for a face to match the voice and realize that it belongs to
one Assistant Director named Walter.
I mentally correct myself, one furious Assistant Director.
"Agent Mulder, do you think that you could spare just a few minutes
of your precious time to pay attention to this case? Or are your
fantasies more important to you than your job?"
"Sir I..."
There, I've found a good excuse and I've put my mouth on auto-pilot,
I've never really appreciated the fact that I can talk about
something and think about something else while I'm talking.
It's an invaluable talent.
Of course my fantasies are more important than my job.
Only they're not just fantasies any more, some of my mental
interactions with Scully are now memories.
And I'd give up my job in two seconds for the prospect of turning all
of my fantasies with her into memories.
I'd consider it for the first second.
Not because of money, or power, but because I met Scully here.
This place, our jobs, brought us together.
And I'd use second number two to think about the xfiles.
About my sister.
About Scully's sister. And her daughter, and her dog, and her damaged
relationship with her brother, and the missing months of her life,
and her near death experience with the cancer, and being taken to
Antarctica, and Modell, and Betts, and Barry, and Padget...


I asked her a question once, right after we'd made love for the first
time.
I asked her why she was in love with me.
I cried when I told her about all the guilt that had built up inside
of me for so long.
I told her about the time that I had almost turned in my resignation
letter, and the letter that I had written that recommended her for a
serious promotion that would take her away from the xfiles, and away
from me, where she could be safe.
I told her about the special gun that I had bought when her cancer
took a turn for the worse. It's street name was the 'Suicide 48'.
Apparently it's known as the #1 suicide tool.
I told her about how the doctor had urged Mrs. Scully to start
thinking about funeral preparations, and about how I'd planned to
kill myself before she died, because I knew that I wouldn't be able
to bear a single moment without her.
She cried too that night.
She told me that out love for each other was an Axiom. Something that
can not be questioned or proven wrong. It had always been this way
since forever, and it would continue to be so after time ends.
But time will never end, and neither will our love.
But after a while, our tears became tears of closure.
That part of our joint lives was over. The guilt, the sadness, the
longing, the tension...
It was over now.
We both knew that it wasn't really over, and that there would be
plenty to obstacles to overcome.
But we'll pass them together, no longer alone.


*Finite*

A.N.
Ok, I'm all done.
I live for feedback... (hint, hint)
Positive feedback will be treasured more than all the DD pics in the
world (ok, ok, I'll be honest, positive feedback is EQUAL to DD's
pics).
Constructive criticism will be noted and accepted graciously.
Flames will send me into the depths of despair (kidding, they will be
burned).
Please send all and any feedback to: star_light8@hotmail.com

--"We're not lost, we're locationally challenged."--
-John M. Ford