Title: The Path
Author: Abigail
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "...Every path we take, no matter how far out of the way, will
lead up to this very moment." Scully remembers the events after All
Things as she prepares to write William a letter.
Class: MSR, A tiny bit of Angst, Vignette, Scully POV, Post-ep

Timeframe: Sometime in S9, before William.

Spoilers: All Things, Milagro, End of Season 8 and up. But this is
mostly just a missing scene piece, written in an interesting way.

Disclaimer: I know, I know...They're not mine. Mulder, Scully, and
William are not mine, they belong to the god of leaving things to our
imagination, Chris Carter. So I promise to return them when I am
finished, hopefully not scarred for life. So don't go suing me,
everyone else is doing it anyway.

Archive: Anywhere, just tell me first, please.

Acknowledgments: This story is for everyone who believes that on the
night of their first union, the sky was broken.

An Author's Note: "The Sky Is Broken" lyrics respectfully borrowed
from Moby, without permission. Again, please no suing. I'm broke
anyway, like it would do you any good! If you do indeed try to sue me,
all you will get is my crappy computer with a disk stuck in the A
drive, my broken desk that houses the crappy computer, and an empty
bag of sunflower seeds. Have fun. Whoo hoo.

Another Author's note: I got the idea for this story as I listened to
"The Sky is Broken." This isn't a songfic, although if I were you, I
would take the phrase "Speak to me baby/in the middle of the
night/pull your mouth/close to mine" as having something to do with
this story.

Um yeah, there's another one: To all of you that I told about this
story before I wrote it...yes, yes, I know it was supposed to be a bit
more, um, "detailed," you could say...I know, I know, but I just
couldn't bring myself to write it, seeing that I'm not technically old
enough to read it, either...

Last Note!: Yes, this is my fic about how Mulder and Scully first got
it on. Yes, I know there's a ton out there...but I figure I should get
my chance too!

Feedback: My inbox and I will work for feedback. Please send to
littlemiss_spookymulder@hotmail.com. Only then do I work!

On into the fic...

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I think I'm going to write William a letter, about he and I. About our
lives, about our love. So if he never makes it back, or if I ever
forget, our son will be able to know about us when he grows older.

After all, it's important that he know where he came from, at least in
my point of view. Not from the aliens, not from some test tube. Not
made by doctors in a laboratory, but a miracle, created by a perfect
union, a gift given from the father above.

I sit here now, a ball-point pen in my hand and a blank sheet of paper
in front of me, waiting to be filled.

But where to start? There is so much, so many memories that I have of
him, that I don't know quite where I should begin. The beginning? No,
eight years is far too much to cover. Besides, it didn't start right
away.

Sure, our partnership began eight years ago, but yet, another kind of
partnership began long after that. After nearly an eternity to me, to
both of us.

Somehow, the pen is in my hand. I don't know how it got there, or what
I'm going to pen to my little son, oblivious to the world around him.
I am not writing.

Instead, I am taken back to a time, nearly a year and a half ago, when
it started. When there was nothing to go wrong. The night that the sky
was broken...

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I felt his hand gently caress the side of my face, felt it brush an
errant strand of auburn from my cheek as I pretended to sleep on his
couch. Even from behind closed lids, I could see him watching me, that
half-smile he sometimes got when he looked in my direction on his
face.

I felt the soft blanket slide over one arm and to the other, and the
pillows disrupt suddenly and then settle back into position as he
stood carefully, leaving me alone while he went to go sleep in his
waterbed.

As soon as I could no longer sense his presence, I opened one eye just
a little bit. The first thing that I saw was his fishtank, the mollies
taking a leisurely swim back and forth across the clear waters.

How could they be so carefree, so un-riddled with worry? I mean, I
know that they're just fish, they don't think, they don't feel emotion
like I do. And yet, I somehow envy their simple life. They have
nothing to be afraid of. They don't have to worry about finding "the
one." It's just wham, bam, thank you ma'am, now the fish population
has doubled.

Now me, I have so much to worry about. In the past weekend, I'd had to
make a choice, between Mulder and Daniel Waterston.

And I'd chosen Mulder. After all, I was half lying down on his couch
as he slept peacefully in the next room, oblivious to how I feel about
him.

Oblivious. Couldn't he tell? Considering what Phillip Padgett had told
him that day in jail. The words ringing in my head: Agent Scully is
already in love.

How could he not know? Didn't he realize that he was the only man in
my life? I was never quite sure if he ever did realize it or not. If
he ever would understand that I love him. That I have for so long.

A soft noise coming from his bedroom disrupted my chain of thought, my
endless stare into the fishtank. I decided to get up and see what it
was.

I found him asleep beneath his well-worn, white sheets, one muscular
arm draped over his bare chest, the other holding a ball of the sheet
loosely in his hand.

Whispering softly. And somewhere, I heard my name in the exhalations.

"Scully..." he murmured, and his hand moved to clench the sheet tighter,
to bring it up to cover himself more.

A smile played at my red lips, pulling the corners of my mouth into
something resembling a grin as I continued to watch him sleep.
 
He looked so peaceful, so innocent. Did he dream of me? And if he did,
was it not so innocent?

"Scully..." he whispered again, his hand reaching out, then coming to
rest on the edge of the waterbed. Beckoning me to touch it, to lace my
fingers within his.

And I couldn't hold back.

I reached out and met his fingers halfway there. As I laced my fingers
gently into his, his grip on my hand tightened and pulled it onto his
chest.

He let my hand rest there for a moment, something resembling a smile
crossing his face. He squeezed harder, and this time I did not miss
the twitching of a muscle in his mouth.

He was not sleeping. He'd been faking it, just as I had faked falling
asleep on his couch so I could somehow get closer to him.

He opened his eyes slowly and broke into a sly grin. He didn't let go
of my hand. I found my gaze transfixed on his large hand covering my
small one, his warmth filling my heart to the brim.

"Why, Agent Scully," he whispered, bringing my stare up into the
depths of his hazel eyes. They were darker than usual, flecks of a
golden hue lighting them. "What *are* you doing in here?" He mocked a
look of innocence as he gently squeezed my fingers between his.

It was pretty dark, shadows casting themselves on the walls, on his
face. But I could tell he was joking with me.

Before I could think up an equally teasing answer, he pulled me down
to sit on the edge of his bed. I felt the waterbed move underneath me
as I settled into the folds.

Where did my voice go? Oh yes, it had taken an unwanted vacation
sometime after he'd grinned at me. I cleared my throat and worked
desperately to find it again.

He was lying in front of me, watching me as I fought to speak. He was
waiting, knowing that I would talk.

I finally found my voice and after clearing my throat again, I
whispered back, looking down at our joined hands. "What *am* I doing
here, Mulder? I don't even know. I mean, just awhile ago, I was making
what is possibly one of the biggest decisions of my life. To move
forward, or to go back."

The teasing smile was gone, replaced by concern, or was it hope?

"And what have you chosen, Scully?" He said softly. He, too, had taken
a fascination to our hands, rubbing mine gently with his thumb as he
watched his actions.

"I don't know, Mulder," I answered. "Somehow, I feel like I'm not
going back. But I'm not going forward. I...we...we seem to be stuck in one
place, not moving forward, not going back."

He sat up then, scooting over to make room for me next to him.  He
seemed unembarrassed by his state, and I, too, found myself at ease
with him just in his black silk boxers. It felt good. And right.

My legs, on their own volition, moved me to sit down next to him. I
slowly stretched my legs out to meet his, although I fell short by a
good foot, the tips of my stocking covered toes stopping somewhere
around his knees.

To my surprise, he drew his knees up until our feet were nearly
touching and spread the sheet over me.

"What do you mean, us?" he asked me softly.

"I don't know, Mulder," I answered, although in my heart I knew what I
had meant. Our relationship was stuck in a rut, in one place, going
nowhere fast.

He surprised me yet again. "Yes, you do." His eyes were dark again,
hooded. "Tell me."

It was more of a request than a demand. So, I forged on.

"Mulder, sometimes, I guess I just feel like our relationship is stuck
at a certain point. And we're not going backwards or forwards. And...I
don't like that," I whispered, almost ashamedly, looking into his
eyes, gauging their reaction.

And a reaction I got.

His eyes seemed to light up, the gold flecks becoming even more
pronounced.

Happiness? Hard to tell, since I'd never seen that look before.

"And where would you like to go?" he said softly, coming closer to me.
Oh, wait. I had seen it, last New Year's, right before he kissed me.

Oh, my. What was he doing? Was he going to...no, it couldn't be. Not in
my wildest dreams. Okay, well, maybe in them, but anyway...

"I'm not sure, Mulder..." I trailed off, even as he kept coming closer.

"I know," was all he said, his face only inches from mine, his breath
warm on my face.

"And where would that be?" I said back, only vaguely realizing how
seductive my own voice sounded.

Oh, man. I was really asking for it. I never thought I could be like
that, it'd been so long.

He leaned even closer, his mouth almost touching mine. "I want to go
forward, Dana..."

And then he kissed me. Not a simple, chaste kiss, like the one last
New Year's. Oh, no. Nothing like that.

It was much better.

I felt his soft lips press gently against mine, asking nothing at the
moment, but hoping for everything. As I was.

He slid one arm around me, and the other came up to cradle the back of
my neck.

His mouth was so warm as I explored it. And boy, did he know how to
kiss! But with that oral fixation, I should have known.

We pulled away for air, breathing heavily. 

"Whoa," I whispered, licking my lips in case *that* never happened
again. "What was that?"

He looked almost scared at my remark. Did he think I hadn't really
wanted that kiss?

"I'm sorry, Scully...I just thought...I mean, I knew you weren't asleep. I
guess I just thought it meant something. That's why I tried to get
your attention. I'm sorry...if you want to leave..." he tried to reconcile
his actions frantically, and tears mixed with hurt filled his eyes.

But I put a silencing finger to his lips as his hands left my waist.
"No, Mulder, wait...the fact that I wasn't asleep *did* mean something,
Mulder...it meant..."

"What?" he simply asked, something resembling hope entering his eyes.

"It meant..." What should I do? "It meant this..."

And I kissed him again.

His hands slid back to their previous positions as he kissed me back
with passion. I immediately felt my knees grow weak, and I became
thankful that we weren't standing.

His hand went to the buttons of my shirt. He pulled away for a moment
to gauge my reaction.

I merely nodded, not taking my eyes from his.

We proceeded to make gentle love. He worshipped my body in a way no
one ever could as we discovered each other. It went slowly and ended
in the most beautiful feeling that I had ever experienced.

We lay spent in each other's arms, and I was nearly asleep to the
beating of his heart when he broke the silence.

"Will things change?"

It was a simple question that could not beget an equally simple
answer. Of course things would change. Everything was different now.
We'd have to be careful, and no one could know. What with the Bureau's
strict policies on inter-office dating.

But somewhere, I knew he meant a different change. Not an office one,
but a personal one. Between the two of us. Not a physical change
either.

"Scully?" He asked quietly, and I pulled my head away from his chest.

"Mulder. I know what you fear. And I'm not going to let this become an
unmentionable. Unless you want this to be some one-night stand, things
will never change."

His face broke into a grin and he pulled me against him, into a hug.
His fingers came up to caress my face and hair. "Ah, Scully...I love
you, and you know that. I want to be with you forever, no restraints."
His hold on me tightened a little as he continued. "This will never be
a one-night stand to me, Scully."

"Nor to me," I whispered, sliding my arms around his chest. 

We fell into a comfortable silence. He ran his fingers through my hair
and I traced circles on the muscles of his back.

Then he broke the silence again. "Scully, do you believe in fate?"

Back to our earlier discussion. "I don't know, Mulder...I mean, there's
so many paths we can take. I learned that this weekend."

"But, Scully," he whispered in awe. "Think about it. I think that
every path we take, no matter how far out of the way, will always lead
up to this very moment."

I nodded, realization slamming into me. "That would mean that...that
from the very beginning, we were meant to be together. Like this.
We've just taken the long way there." I smiled up at him and he smiled
back.

He pulled me so close that my legs were between his, my feet once
again touching his knees. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and
gave a little sigh. "We will always be together. I love you."

I felt his heartbeat slow and he breath even out against the top of my
auburn hair as he fell into a sleep.

"I love you too, Mulder..." I mumbled as I faded out to the beat of his
heart.

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I slipped quietly out of his bed, feeling the mattress move slightly
as I disengaged myself from the tangle of sheets.

I picked up my clothes off the floor and started for the bathroom.
That's when I heard his voice behind me.

"Where are you going?"

Just like Mulder. Forget everything in the throes of all love?

"Mulder, I have to go home and change. We have work today."

"Oh, yeah," he whispered. "Guess I just forgot." 

Ah, Mulder. I was right on target.

There it was. The half smile. It actually looked kind of, well, shy. I
shook my head helplessly and laughed softly as I turned back towards
the bathroom.

As I began to slowly pull on my clothes, to smooth my shirt, to zip my
pants, to tuck that ever-errant strand of hair behind my ear, I
started to think about what had happened the night before.

What *had* happened the night before?

Sure, our relationship had been consummated, but for what? For the
wanting of someone to share an experience like that with? For what
we'd felt about each other for close to seven years?

Or was it something deeper than that? Deeper than physical attraction.
I believe that our consummation was not one of lust, but of pure and
unrequited love.

I ran my fingers through my hair again and turned back to the bed,
fully expecting to see him watching me, that same little half-smile on
his face.

But he was asleep again, one foot shyly peeking out of the white
sheets, a hand on his chest; his head turned in slumber. The sunrise
using a tree to cast shadows all over the room and on his beautiful
face.

And I remembered what he had told me earlier. Things wouldn't change.
We would go on being partners, best friends. Lovers. This wasn't a
one-night stand.

I picked my jacket up off the bedpost and slipped it on as I took one
last gaze at Mulder. My Mulder. Mine. Forever together.

And a marvelous warmth filled my soul as I repeated it in my head.

At that moment, I remembered remnants of our conversation from
earlier. I realized it was true. Every path we take, no matter how far
out of the way, will lead up to this very moment.

And I smiled.

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A whisper-like cry brings me from my reverie and back to where I am
now.

Shaken from the memory of that night, I pick up the now-dropped pen
from the smooth oak table and prepare to begin.

I look down at that piece of paper, where I had planned to pen a
nearly forgotten memory, a memory almost lost to me since that time. A
forgetfulness forced upon me by the bureau's strict inter-office
dating policies.

But I find now that no words will flow from that ink pen and onto it.
And I know that nothing will. Because it just hit me.

I crumple the empty piece of paper into my hand as I go to tend to the
reason I had first sat down.

He will make it back.

I won't forget.

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THE SKY IS BROKEN ~ By Moby

See the storm is broken
In the middle of the night 
Nothing left here for me
It's washed away 
The rain pushes
The buildings aside 
The sky turns black 
The sky 
Wash it far 
Push it out to sea 
There's nothing left here 
For me 
I watch it lift up to the sky 
I watch it crush me 
And then I die 

Speak to me baby 
In the middle of the night
Pull your mouth 
Close to mine
I can see the wind coming down 
Like black night 
So speak to me 
Like the winds outside
It's broken up, pushing us 
Hear the rain fall 
See the wind come to my eyes 
See the storm broken 
Now nothing 
Speak to me baby 
In the middle of the night 
Speak to me 
Hold your mouth to mine 
'Cause the sky is breaking
It's deeper than love 
I know the way you feel
Like the rains outside 
Speak to me

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El Fin

~Abigail~