Need (R)


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He let himself into his apartment feeling as low and alone as he had in recent memory.  He glanced over at his bedroom, maybe a shower, but he didn’t follow through.  He tossed his suit coat over the back of a chair and loosened his tie as he dropped on the couch.

 

He wanted Scully. 

 

He pretty much had to admit it now.  He wanted her, not just in the ‘she kept him sane and they worked well together’ mode.  He wanted her, her body, her scent, her taste.

 

That wasn’t their relationship.  That wasn’t his relationship with anyone.

 

Oh hell, he could probably go out right now to some bar or club and get laid.  He wasn’t as oblivious to how women looked at him as she thought.  He just had no reason to acknowledge it because she was with him.

 

But she wasn’t with him.

 

The holidays had never been a special time for him, but he knew this time of year was hard on a lot of people.  Maybe . . . No.  And it wasn’t lack of a case either.  Yes, they had ‘finished up’ the case in Pittsfield.  When the tree had been sealed off it wasn’t like there was anything they could do.  It hadn’t affected them anyway, they were ‘too old’ and getting older by the day.

 

And tonight she was with someone else.  To be fair she was probably not going to sleep with him, it was just a date, but she wasn’t with him and that’s what mattered.

 

He couldn’t begrudge her a date.  Well, yes he could but he had no grounds.  Why didn’t she see how he felt?  And why didn’t she feel the same.  Damn it!  Did she really see a eunuch when she looked at him?

 

He’d repressed this so damn long, it was leaking out the fucking edges.  His innuendoes were sharper, almost sardonic - great way to win a woman.  Damn it!  His hand came out and he brushed the coffee table clear of everything on it.

 

That helped, not.  He leaned over from his seat on the couch and picked up the tape that had landed on his shoe.  “Ride’em Deep”  Porn, hell it was better than nothing and there were no red heads in it.  He’d made sure of that before getting it.  He didn’t make that kind of error any more.

 

Out of habit as much as anything else, he flipped on the TV and slipped the tape into the VCR.  The very sleaziness of the tape caused disgust to flood him.  What the hell was wrong with him.  He didn’t want this, he wanted a real woman, his real woman.

 

He stabbed the remote control with revulsion and the picture died.  No!  He didn’t have to settle for this.

 

He didn’t bother to fix his tie, leaving it loose as he grabbed up his coat and hurried out the door.

 

*****

 

“I’m so glad you were in town.  I’ve been wanting to spend some time with you.” The sandy hair man beamed down at her and she found herself smiling up in response.

 

Craig, Craig Watson, was a doctor at Georgetown.  They had met when she had assisted with an autopsy for the DC police.  It had been nice to have a little free time from the weirdness that her normal cases contained. 

 

He was intelligent and they had a lot in common.  He had asked her out a couple of times but this was the first time their schedules had meshed.  She couldn’t help but be pleased at his tenacity.  No one else was pursuing her.

 

It was also nice to be dressed up and out for an evening.  She hadn’t been on a date in, well she couldn’t remember the last time.  This was nice, festive with the holiday decorations.  She looked around as the music started.  She hadn’t realized there was dancing here.  Did she remember how to dance?  She hadn’t danced since the Cher . . . No, she was on a date, a real date, and there was no need to think of Mulder.

 

“I’ve heard the food here is great.  They’re famous for their filets.”

 

“That sounds wonderful.”

 

“Good.”  He ordered the calamari as an appetizer along with a bottle of a very fine red wine.  After the appetizer was served and they’d each had a glass, he asked her to dance.

 

Inwardly nervous she accepted.  He took her hand to help her to her feet.  He was taller than her of course, but not as tall as . . . He was a good dancer, and made feel as though she was as well.  She found herself smiling, relaxing, actually enjoying herself.

 

Back at the table they had another glass of wine and discussed mutual acquaintances at the hospital.  His imitation of the coroner caused her to laugh out loud and made her wonder if the wine was affecting her, but it was fun and lighthearted. 

 

The steak was delicious, tender enough to cut with a fork.  She wondered how long they had marinated it to be this good.  The asparagus and carrots were tied together with a strip of seaweed and had a sauce she knew she wouldn’t be able to recreate. 

 

For a change from her past dates they had plenty to talk about, plenty in common and she was having a good time.  When he asked her to dance again after the main course, she accepted willingly. 

 

Back at the table he ordered coffee and the chocolate mousse cake.  The last over her faint objection.  “I won’t be able to move if I eat that.”

 

“We can share.  You’ve danced off that many calories and more.”  He smiled and she rolled her eyes but nodded.

 

She had taken a bite and closed her eyes in enjoyment.  When she opened them the smile was gone from Craig’s face and he was looking up at something behind her.

 

She turned to looked up herself.  Mulder stood over her, no he loomed over her.

 

“Mulder?  What’s wrong?”

 

He was staring at Craig now.  “I need to see her for a minute.”

 

“Uh, yeah, sure.”  He had paled slightly and seemed to be leaning away from him.

 

Mulder looked terrible, his tie was askew and his eyes were . . . piercing.  She was on her feet without thinking, her hand on his arm.  “What is it?”

 

“I, I’m ruining your date.”

 

He didn’t seem to be hearing her.  What had happened?

 

“No, I’m sorry.”  He started to turn away but she took hold of his arm.

 

“Craig, I’m sorry, I have to go.”

 

“Dana, what - “ he had risen to his feet now in a semblance of defense.

 

“This is my partner, Agent Mulder.  I’m sorry, but - “

 

“I don’t think going with him right now is a good idea.”

 

Mulder turned slowly.  Scully had never seen that expression on his face.  “Craig, I’m sorry.  I’ll be in touch, but I need to leave now.”

 

“Will you be alright?” he reached for her arm and Mulder moved blocking him.

 

People had stopped their meals and turned to look at them now. 

 

“Craig, please.”  After a moment he nodded and resumed his seat.  Mulder took Scully’s arm and escorted her from the restaurant.

 

Once outside she shook him off and he allowed it following her toward his car.  To his surprise she pulled out her keys and headed for the driver’s door. 

 

“I can drive.”

 

She didn’t even respond, slipping into the driver’s seat.  Instead of fighting, he moved around the car and took the passenger’s side.  She was already adjusting the seat in silence and he did the same.

 

She pulled out of the parking lot.  He was being quiet, too quiet.  “Mulder, what happened?”

 

He looked out the window rather than try to explain.


”Mulder?”  Hell, she couldn’t drive and watch him.  She’d had a couple of glasses of wine, a full meal, but still . . . She turned into the nearly empty tourist bus parking lot of the Washington Memorial and stopped the car.  She turned to him, but he was already bailing out the side so she followed as swiftly as possible.

 

“Mulder!”

 

He stopped at that tone and finally looked at her.

 

“What the hell is going on?”

 

Bleakly he shook his head.  “I, I ruined your date.”

 

“That’s not important.  What’s wrong?”

 

“I need you.”

 

“You have me,” she responded her eyes showing her concern and curiosity.

 

“No, I need you.”

 

She blinked at that, unsure what he was talking about.  He roughly pulled her to him and pressed her against him.  His chest was like stone, his arms a band of steel around her but . . .

 

She looked up, her face aflame.  “Mulder?”

 

With a sigh he released her and she stumbled back at the lack of support.  He took hold of her arm but she didn’t seem to notice.

 

“Do you remember a thousand years ago in my hallway when I told you that you made me a whole person?”  She nodded.  “We never tried to move forward after . . . after everything that happened.”

 

“You were angry with me.”

 

“No, I was angry at everything else.  I . . . shit.  I should never have interrupted your date.  You were having a good time, laughing, dancing - “

 

“How long were you there?”

 

“Before your meal came, you were dancing . . . “

 

“Where were you?”

 

“In the bar.”

 

“You were drinking?”

 

“No.  No, I didn’t have a drink, just a Coke.”  He looked around.  “You, you were having a good time.  You didn’t even know I was there.”  He sounded almost petulant then and she looked up into his embarrassed face.

 

“You came in while we were dancing the first time?”

 

He nodded.

 

“I did know.”

 

“What?”

 

“I was dancing with him, yes, but I was uncomfortable, stiff, then, then I kind of relaxed.  I felt safer, like it was going to be okay.”

 

He blinked at her.

 

“You’re not the only one with needs around here, Fox Mulder.”  She ignored the wince at the sound of his name from her lips.  “Maybe I don’t have a hard on the size of the monument here, but - “

 

“Scully!”

 

“You ‘brought it up’, isn’t it long past time to discuss it?  I thought, I thought we had decided it was safer - “

 

“We never decided anything, we’ve never discussed it.  You never wanted to.”

 

“I, okay, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t thought about it.”

 

“You’ve thought about it?”

 

“God, Mulder I’m with you 24/7, I may not be young enough to get any effect from whatever we just investigated, but I’m still breathing.  I knew we had to be low key, I just didn’t know if . . . “

 

“If I wanted you?”

 

Again her face flamed.  “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

 

“Are we ‘doing’ this?” For the first time there was that hint of innuendo that she loved from him.  He was calming down.

 

“What set you off?”

 

His face lost all trace of humor then.  “I don’t know.  Craig?  The fact that he’s so right for you?”

 

“That’s my decision.”

 

He leaned in suddenly and their lips met.  When they separated her arms were around his neck and his low around her waist.  “Decide on me, Scully.”

 

“I did, a long time ago.”

 

He blinked at that, but for a change kept his thoughts to himself.

 

“I’m getting cold, Mulder.  Let’s go to your place and finish this discussion.”

 

“Uh, your place.  Mine isn’t really fit for company.”

 

“What did you do?”

 

“A, a tantrum.”

 

She rolled her eyes, but took his hand and led him back to the car.  She again took the driver’s seat and he didn’t protest.  He wasn’t going to protest anything she did right now.  Finally, finally he’d been honest, now they had to see what would happen.  And she was with him.

 

 

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Mulder, Scully, the Lone Gunman and Skinner all belong to Chris Carter, 10-13 and Fox. No infringement intended.