Sometime In The Morning(PG-13)


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Words and Music by Gerry Goffin and Carole King

Performed by The Monkees

 

Sometime in the morning

A simple thought may occur to you,

And you hold her,

And tell her all the things you never told her.

Your love has shown me things

I never thought I could see;

I didn't know

It could be done so easily.

Now I know

You're where it is for me.

 

Sometime in the evening

You're sitting there by the fireside

And she'll touch you

And you'll realize how much you never knew before,

How much you couldn't see.

You didn't know

It could be done so easily

Now you know

She's all a girl could be.

 

Now in her childlike eyes

You see the beauty there

You know it was always there

And you need no longer wear a disguise.

 

Sometime in the morning

You'll just reach out and she will be there,

Close as the summer air.

 

Sometime in the morning she will be there.

 

 

He stirred, waking slowly.  Something, some movement caused him to look to his right.  The jolt of memory paralyzed him for a moment.  Scully.  Scully in his bed, peacefully asleep within arm’s reach.

 

He had thought he knew a lot about this woman, after what they had lived through, been for each other over these past years.  He’d been wrong.  This woman, the woman that had inhabited his soul was so much more than he had ever dreamed.

 

Her physical beauty wasn’t a surprise to him, but to have her so trustingly display her body before him, so familiar but still so new in this more intimate context was overwhelming.  Dana Scully could be wanton.  It was like finding a whole new woman under the suit.  She had matched his passion with her own; she had wanted him as much as he wanted her.  Mind blowing.

 

He had loved her before; occasionally he’d even admitted it to himself.  He could never deny it again.  How could he have been so blind to these extreme possibilities?  How could he not have seen what they could be to each other?  Okay, in fairness she had held back as well, but that was over now too.

 

Part of him wanted to wake her, tell her everything he was thinking, everything he’d ever thought, everything he had held back from her.  He wanted to pour himself into her again, physically and mentally.  No other vessel would ever be right for him; none had been before though he hadn’t realized it until now.

 

She had reached out for him last night.  She had touched him, just his arm, but it had felt . . . different.  Had she known that he would never have the courage to do that?  She was too important for him to blow it by making a move she wouldn’t want.  So she had made the first move, as they sat not watching some movie he had chosen.  She had touched him, her hand on his arm, then she had moved closer to lean against him.  It had been subtle; his Scully would never be overt.  Maybe, like him, she had been afraid that it still wasn’t the right time.

 

It was the right time, the perfect time for them.  And now this was the best morning of his life.

 

 

Author's note:  A little gift for Nancy, for the February 2008 month of caring.  White and green light always -

 

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