Title:    The Bullfrog Chronicles
Author:   dtg
Email:    dgoggans@earthlink.net
Website:  http://home.earthlink.net/~dgoggans/
Rating:   R for adult language
Archive:  Sure, just let me know first.
Keywords: vignette, MSR
Spoilers: References to several eps through Season 7.
Summary:  Love in an elevator, but not the kind
          you think.
Disclaimer: They belong to Chris Carter, 1013 and
          Fox. No copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes: No smut, just a trip down memory 
          lane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FBI Headquarters
Saturday, April 1, 2000
11:10 pm


"Mulder, please tell me you have your cell phone."

"Sorry. It's on my desk. Charging."

"Great."

"Where's yours?"

"Well, obviously not on my desk. Since I don't *have* 
a desk." 

It was a half-hearted dig, at best. He could hear her 
jabbing desperately at the elevator buttons. 

"Scully, did I ever mention how much I hate dark, 
closed-in, airless places?" He also hated the way his 
voice went up half an octave between the beginning 
and end of that statement.

The button-jabbing ceased abruptly. "Mulder, are you 
claustrophobic?" 

She was arching her eyebrow at him. He could hear it 
in her voice.

He tried for a chuckle, but it came out with a 
faintly hysterical edge. "Me? Nah. I just have a 
very... rational... dislike of dark, closed-in, 
airless places." The sweat beading on his forehead 
was beginning to drip into his eyes.

"Give me your hand." 

He reached toward her voice and felt her grab onto 
him. "I'm not quite living up to your 'stuck in an 
elevator' fantasy, am I?" 

She laughed at his feeble joke and tightened her grip 
on his clammy fingers. "What makes you think I have 
one?"

"You don't?"

She sidled up next to him and dropped her voice into 
the range that sent delicious shivers down his back. 
"Not an elevator, Mulder. A huge claw-footed tub 
filled with bubbles."

His automatic moan made them both laugh out loud. "If 
you're trying to distract me from our current 
situation, you're definitely on the right track." He 
tugged on her hand and she moved into his embrace.

She laid her head against his chest for a moment, 
then pulled back and felt her way down his arm until 
she reached his left wrist. "Mulder, your heart is 
racing. You really *are* afraid, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't call it fear, exactly."

"What would you call it?" 

He'd call it abject terror. The prospect of facing a 
legion of fanged mutants paled in comparison to five 
minutes in a stalled elevator. "Can we just please 
not talk about it any more?" He took a deep breath 
and straightened his spine. "So, where the hell is 
the emergency backup power? Or security, for that 
matter?"

"It's only been a few minutes. I'm sure the power 
will come on soon. And the security people probably 
don't even know we're in the building at this ungodly 
hour." 

There was a definite 'I told you so' in there 
somewhere. "I needed the file, Scully. You could have 
let me come by myself, you know."

She snorted indelicately. "And sit around waiting for 
the phone to ring? You and late night excursions, no 
matter how seemingly innocuous, do not bode well for 
my peace of mind."

It was Mulder's turn to snort. "And this is better?"

"Yes, it is. What would you be doing right now if you 
were alone in this elevator?" 

That brought back the reality of their situation and 
sent his heart rate into the stratosphere.

"I think I better sit down." And with that, he slid 
carefully down the smooth wall, landing on his butt 
with a thud. 

She knelt down next to him immediately. "Do you feel 
faint, Mulder?" Her fingers moved to the pulse point 
at his throat. "Deep, slow breaths. That's it. Just 
relax." She began to brush her fingers gently through 
his sweaty hair. "I'm sorry I teased you. This isn't 
very funny, it is?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment, no." He felt 
her sit down at his side. Her arm went around his 
shoulders, tugging him toward her. He smiled. "I 
don't wanna wrestle."

She laughed softly. "And I don't want you to pass 
out. Just put your head down for a minute."

He settled into her lap, feeling an embarrassingly 
profound sense of peace wash over him. It was almost 
too much, the power she had to make him whole. He 
sighed loudly, inspiring another soft chuckle from 
the woman who occupied the center of his universe.

"Mulder, you are *so* easy." She began running her 
hand up and down his arm in a soothing and familiar 
pattern.

"What made you pick that particular song?" 

It surprised him not at all when she followed his 
train of thought perfectly.

"I am *not* going to sing to you, Mulder." She 
continued rubbing his arm but added a light slap for 
emphasis.

"I'm not *asking* you to. I just wondered if you knew 
why you chose that song."

She was silent for a moment. "It just popped into my 
head. I warned you that I couldn't carry a tune."

"And you were right."

This slap wasn't quite so gentle. "You're on thin ice 
as it is. I wouldn't go looking any gift horses in 
the mouth."

"Why that song?"

She sighed. "I suppose you have a theory?"

"Do you remember how you chickened out on the second 
verse?"

"I don't even *know* the second verse."

"Scully, I'm hurt that you would stoop to lying about 
this."

"I'm serious! I have no idea what comes after the 
first chorus."

He wrapped his arms over his chest and pulled his 
knees up.

"Mulder, are you sulking?"

He hugged himself tighter and remained silent.

"Oh, for pete's sake. All right, I *did* chicken out, 
but not for the reason you seem to think. I just 
figured that, after the way you beat such a hasty 
retreat from your room when I showed up with the wine 
and cheese, you'd go screaming off into the bushes if 
I sang about 'making sweet love to you'."

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him down firmly. 
"Stay put. I think I like you better this way."

"Scully, I did *not* beat a hasty retreat. I told 
you, I had to talk with the boy again."

"Uh huh. You were scared shitless, Mulder. You talked 
a great game back then, but it was just that: all 
talk, and no action."

"And you're telling me you were the soul of 
directness?" He'd meant it as a gentle jab, but 
Scully obviously didn't hear it that way.

She stopped rubbing his arm and went silent for a 
long moment. When she finally spoke, her voice was 
soft with regret. "No, I can't say that I was. We 
danced around each other for a very long time, and 
I'm afraid I bear most of the blame."

They had been lovers for nearly three months now, but 
they had never talked about this. Maybe it was the 
anonymity of the darkness that was bringing it out. 
No matter, he wasn't going to let the opportunity 
slip away.

"You were right to keep me at a distance, Scully. 
Sometimes, I still wonder why you... what made you 
let me in." 

She leaned down and kissed the first part of him she 
encountered. "Because you're the love of my life, 
Mulder. I've known that for a long time."

"I know that." He winced at how vain that sounded. "I 
mean, I knew you cared about me, but you never gave 
any indication that you might want... you never 
said..." He shrugged helplessly. Now he knew why they 
hadn't talked about this before. It was an incredibly 
uncomfortable subject.

Scully picked up his thought without missing a beat. 
"And I knew that you loved me, too. I know we don't 
have much practice at talking like this, but I think 
it's about time, don't you?" She was rubbing his arm 
again, comforting them both. "Do you know when I 
first realized how I felt about you?"

He knew when *he* had realized that she loved him. He 
wondered if they shared the same moment. "When?"

"When you ran off to Alaska. When I found you in that 
emergency room, being treated by an idiot doctor who 
was so busy marking his territory that he almost let 
you die in front of me." 

She was angry at the memory. He could hear it in her 
voice. "You saved my life." When he'd opened his eyes 
in that hospital bed to find her smiling at him, he'd 
felt the full force of her love for the first time. 
It was the most humbling moment of his life.

He reached up and took her hand from his shoulder, 
brought it to his lips. "You *are* my life."

He felt the catch in her breathing. "And you are 
mine."

They fell silent again. Mulder actually began to hope 
that their rescuers would stay away for awhile. A 
little claustrophobia was a small price to pay for 
the intimacy of this moment.

"Mulder, when did you know?"

It seemed to him now that he'd loved her all his 
life. He smiled at the unbridled mushiness of that 
thought, and at what he knew her reaction would be if 
he voiced it. "When you were taken." 

She hugged him close, burying her face in his neck. 
He knew she'd been told, by her mother and probably 
Skinner, about the way he'd been while she was gone. 
And how he'd reacted to her return. That last night 
before she'd woken up, when he'd sat there on the 
floor waiting for the call that would tell him she 
had died, he'd known totally and irrevocably that his 
life would be nothing without her. "I also knew that 
the only way to keep you safe was to make you leave 
me. I just never had the strength to make it happen."

"There's nothing you could have done to make me leave 
you, Mulder."

"I think I came close a few times." He hesitated for 
an instant, then decided to plow ahead. "Philadelphia 
and Ed Jerse come to mind." He felt her stiffen at 
the name.

"You had nothing to do with that."

"Don't try to protect me, Scully. I all but dared you 
to go out with him." 

*What, have you got a date?* Long pause. *Good bye, 
Mulder.* 

"You think I slept with him, don't you?" Her voice 
was flat.

"I think you wanted to."

She went very still and her hand slipped away from 
his shoulder, letting the chill return. She made no 
attempt to stop him when he moved to sit up. 

"Scully?" He wished fervently that he could see her 
face.

"Yes. I did."

Did what? Sleep with him, or want to? He couldn't 
force the words out, sure now that he didn't want to 
hear the answer. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I 
drove you away... *nearly* drove you away."

"It apparently matters a great deal." Still in that 
carefully emotionless voice.

He was scrambling to understand how they'd gone from 
tender intimacy to this in such a short space of 
time. Out of nowhere, he heard his father's voice in 
his head: 'You could fuck up a wet dream'. "Scully, 
I'm sorry I brought it up. It doesn't matter. I swear 
it doesn't."

She continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I've never 
told you what was really bothering me. I think I owe 
you the truth."

He was suddenly desperate to be out of this elevator 
for reasons that had nothing to do with 
claustrophobia. "You don't have to tell me." There 
was a pleading note in his voice, but she ignored it.

"Yes, I do. It's not what you think, and I don't want 
you to go on believing what you obviously believe."
She took a deep breath. "I didn't sleep with him, 
Mulder. But I did want to."

The rock that formed in his throat roughened his 
voice. "Why didn't you?"

"I won't lie to you, I came very close. I kissed him, 
Mulder, and I enjoyed it. Or, I thought I did. It was 
the same sensation I used to get whenever I did 
something I knew my parents-- my father, actually-- 
would hate. It was an adolescent lapse in judgment. I 
thought it would make me feel... alive." She fumbled 
for his hand in the dark, and he gave it to her. 
"I've never told you this, but I knew at the time 
that I had cancer."

He felt the pieces fall neatly into place. "You tried 
to tell me. The morning I left for vacation, you were 
trying to tell me that something was wrong." To say 
that he'd been a self-absorbed idiot barely scratched 
the surface. 

She squeezed his hand. Hard. "No, Mulder. Don't even 
*think* about trying to blame yourself. I was afraid. 
Afraid of dying. Afraid of living. Afraid of letting 
go of what I had to reach for something more. It's as 
simple and as complicated as that."

He nodded, forgetting for the moment that she 
couldn't see him. "I was, too. I was afraid it would 
ruin our friendship. I know that sounds crazy, but I 
couldn't risk losing what we had."

"You're trying to let me off the hook, Mulder. 
Don't."

"If anyone needs a little hook-off-letting, it's 
yours truly." 

She butted him with her shoulder. "Let's not make 
this a contest, okay?"

The darkness had left her voice. If there was a 
better feeling on earth, he couldn't imagine it. He 
decided to follow her lead and lighten the hell up. 
"You're right. We're equally dysfunctional. We *were* 
equally dysfunctional."

"Well, I wouldn't go quite *that* far..."

"Scully, you are--"

"Hey! Anybody down there?"

Salvation from above.

"Yeah! We're stuck!"

"Hang on. We'll have the power on in a hot minute."

He'd forgotten how badly he wanted out. "How did you 
know we were down here?"

"We just noticed one of the elevators was between 
floors. What the hell are you doing here at this time 
of night?"

The power came on at that instant, in time to give 
him a clear view of Scully's best 'I told you so' 
look. It made him grin from ear to ear.

"You don't want to know," he called up to their 
rescuer. He gave her a conspiratorial wink that 
earned him one of her rare, full power smiles.

They got to their feet as the elevator jerked to 
life, resuming its interrupted journey to the first 
floor.

Scully's smile faltered a bit. "Mulder, are we okay?"

He took her face gently in both hands and tipped it 
up. Everything he felt for her was in the kiss he 
planted firmly on her soft lips. When he pulled back, 
her eyes opened with a languid blink.

"Does that answer your question?"

The doors slide open before she could answer.

"You two okay?" A man stood just outside the 
elevator, hands on skinny jumpsuit-clad hips.

Scully took Mulder's hand and led him into the hall. 
She parted her lips to answer the question, but 
Mulder took the words right out of her mouth.

"We're fine."

~~~~~

The End