TITLE: Talking In Riddles
AUTHOR: aRcaDIaNFall$
FEEDBACK: arcadianfalls@yahoo.com.au
RATING: PG-13
SPOILERS: none
CLASSIFICATION: MSR, A
SUMMARY: A confrontation.
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Talking In Riddles (1/1)
by aRcaDIaNFall$


It just came out of the blue. Like a lightning bolt from a cloudless
sky. So unexpected that I stood stunned for a moment, motionless amid
the cloud of dust, the thud of dropped books still echoing in my ears. 

"What?"

His steady gaze didn't waver. "Do you love me?" 

I looked around quickly, suspicious, before returning my gaze to his
face. "Mulder..."

"Do you?"

"Mulder..." 

His gaze grew more intense, pleading. "Just answer me, Scully. Just
tell me yes or no."

I stared at him, watchful, wondering. "Why does it matter?"

"Because I need to know. Because we've had eight years together and I
need to know how much that means to you."

"What if I said no?" I asked the question so unemotionally, a detatched
scientific curiosity about his motivations. How hypothetically were we
speaking? I wondered.

"Yes or no, Scully."

It was hardly the romantic context I'd imagined for that particular
question but I wouldn't lie to him. Not to Mulder. I had too much
respect for him. He deserved my honesty. "Yes. Of course I do."

"Why don't you ever say it?"

"We work together, Mulder. It's not the sort of thing two adults
discuss..." I gestured to his desk, "across a pile of paperwork."

Deliberately, so intensely, he leaned forward on his desk, hands
planted firmly on open case folders.
"I love you."

Was he playing with me, here? Angry? Desperate? Trying in some twisted
way to be romantic?
"Mulder..."

He pulled back. "See!"

"See what?"

"I say I love you, you're supposed to say it back. You didn't. You
never do, Scully."

"That doesn't mean I don't mean it."

"That's not good enough."

"Not good enough?" I echoed. "Mulder, we're not married, for crying out
loud. We work together. We're friends."

"Friends." His turn to echo, jaw set. "So what, you love me as a
friend?"

"You know it's more than that."

"More than that? Then tell me. As a lover? You love me as a lover but
we've never made love? You've got me talking in riddles, now."

I snapped. "Why are you pushing this?!" I demanded.

"Because I'm tired of waiting, Scully! Because if it's going to happen
then why can't we just let it happen? I can't just hold it all in, you
know. I'm not as good at that as you are."

That stung. I pressed my lips together tightly and I stared hard at
him. 

"This is shit," he muttered, turning away restlessly. He turned back,
facing me squarely, angry. "This wasn't how I thought this would
happen."

What had he thought? That I would fall into his arms, confess my love
and every fantasy I'd ever had about him, then let him take me right
there on his desk? 
"What is this about, Mulder? Is this about you getting some?"

His jaw set. "Is that what you think? You think I would do that to
you?"

Yes! I almost snapped at him, but I held back. "No," I acknowledged,
calmer. "I'm sorry."

He nodded, reluctant. Turning away again he started to fidget, rolling
up his shirtsleeves and tossing pens back in his pencil tin. Was it
over? Was that rollercoaster of a confrontation slowing to a halt short
of resolution? 

I stooped, slowly picking up the books I'd dropped just prior to his
statement. Picking them up, I returned them carefully to their shelves,
as if it were possible to go back to before it had all begun. Dusting
my hands off, I turned back to Mulder. He'd sat at his desk, slouched
over, playing with my keys. 

I took a tentative step closer and he looked up. His face was guarded,
hurt. I bit my lip, wanting to explain myself.

"Anybody can say those three words, Mulder," I said softly. "They're
just words. They're thrown around by every celebrity and hormone-driven
teenager." I drew a breath, releasing it slowly. "They're not *rich*
enough. They fall so far short of how I feel, of the joy and the
sorrow, the intimacy... To say 'I love you' would just feel like such
an understatement."

He gazed at me with those beautiful limp, dark eyes. "It's a place to
start," he said simply.

I nodded, moved by the pain in those eyes. "Yeah. I guess it is."

Silence, then I broke the eye contact. Heading over to get my coat, I
sucked in a deep breath. "I'm going to take a walk, maybe go get some
lunch. You staying here?"

He nodded. "I think I will."

I reached the doorway, then stopped. "I do love you, Mulder. I wonder
sometimes if you realise how much."

He started to rise from his desk. "Then why don't you-"

"Act on it?" I finished for him. "I do, every day. Maybe not in the
conventional sense, but I do. That's how I tell you how much you mean
to me."

He sank back down again slowly, watching me curiously. A sigh, and he
buried his face in his hands, voice muffled as he spoke. "And that's
enough for you? You don't want to take things further?"

I looked at him for a minute. "You've never gotten to know a girl
before sleeping with her, have you?"

He raised his head, a sheepish grin tentatively on his face. "Let's
just say I've never waited eight years, before."

I returned his smile. "I can't say that surprises me." I paused a few
seconds to phrase my thoughts. "It will happen, Mulder. But I don't
want us to push it. We'll just let it happen."

He rose, moving across the office to me in only a few strides. Hands on
my arms, he kissed me, slowly, tenderly. Pulling away, he dropped a
kiss on my forehead and then released me. 
"Just letting it happen," he murmured, head down. He turned and went
back to his desk, not meeting my eyes. 

I smiled, backing out of the room and gently closing the door after me.
Yeah, Mulder. I love you too.



fin.


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