Secret Bird
by Politic X

Part 7
See part 0 for header information.


I nod, but a tear spills down my face.  It's cold
out here, but I'm colder.  The tear will freeze.

"Girl troubles?"

I nod.  As long as he asks 'yes or no' questions, I
won't have to talk.  I won't have to tell him that
it upset me to realize that Dana only wanted what
everyone else has always wanted.  "You're too
sweet," Stephanie always tells me.  "Men think
'sweet' means easy."  Apparently, so does Dana.

Maybe my body language confused her, but all I
wanted was to hold her.  I just want to be in her
presence and talk to her.  I want to hug her to me
and let her know that the world is really an okay
place.

Raney smiles, takes a candle from the table and
brings it near my face.  The warmth is weak, but
I'll take it.  "You have that tragic look about
you."

I draw deeply on the cigarette.

"It's Dana, isn't it?  Your friend from the FBI."

I remain silent, but finally nod.

"Thought so.  I'm sorry."  He sighs.  "You're not
the only one that's hurting, though."

Oh, no.  I hope Stephanie hasn't done something
mean to him.  His eyes are sad when I look into
them.  His heart is broken, I can tell, but he
blinks and turns away.  "She's hurting, too, I
think."  He nods toward the lawn, and I look.

Dana's there, small and beautiful.  I move to the
parapet, my head swimming.  The brick is rough
under my hands, but it steadies me.  I thought
she'd left.  Maybe she needed to cool down before
she got in her car to drive away.  She must be
angry, not getting what she came here for.  She
turns to look at the building, and her eyes stop at
the roof.  She sees me and freezes on the spot.
I'm transfixed.  She doesn't take her eyes from me
but she slowly backs away as if I pose a threat to
her.

I shake my head.  Don't go.  Don't tell me all you
want is sex.  Don't let me believe that.

I don't realize I've spoken aloud until Raney
places his hand on my back.  I've always thought
his hands have healing powers, not because he's a
preacher, but because he cares so much about people
that love practically radiates from him.  "Why
don't you go talk to her?" he says.

My voice is hoarse.  It gets like that when I'm
upset.  "She's leaving."

"She's going the wrong way, then."

And she is.  She has turned from us now, and
continues to walk the grounds, away from the
building.  She's faraway iridescence in emerald,
silver and gold, shimmering on the dark green lawn,
and I love her so much I can't bear for her to be
this distant.

It's not supposed to happen like this.  She's
supposed to be in my life.  She has to want more
than sex.  The sensation of her hand on my breast
still makes me shudder.  I want sex, too.  But I
want more.  I want everything.

Maybe she'll fall in love with me one day, but it
won't happen if I don't fix things right now.  I
hand Raney my cigarette and he smiles his
encouragement.  This man can see right through me.
He always has.  "I can't hold my feelings in," I
say to him.  They're spilling out of me.  I can't
contain them.

He nods.  "Never does any good to try.  You'll die
that way."  He wags the cigarette in front of my
face.  "Before you die this way."

His words propel me toward the stairway door and I
jerk it open and stumble down the stairs.  I can't
cage my emotions as if they're a secret.  I'll make
her understand that love is not lust, and it
doesn't flash in the night like a firefly, only to
disappear at daylight.  I hurry; I rush.  I can't
cage my love.  I slip this gray, concrete, smoke-
heavy world.  I sprint.  I fly.

I'm running down the steps of the building, and
Dana continues to stand in the dark, cold green
grass.  When she sees me coming, she takes a step
backward but then stands, still as a statue.  I'll
frighten her with my emotion, but I charge her
anyway.  I won't believe that she's incapable of
loving me until I see it in her face or hear it in
her voice.  I will not keep my secret trapped
inside, and I won't allow us to remain trapped in
this emotional desert, either.

"I love you," I say before I'm near enough for her
to hear me.  But when I am that close, close enough
to see her face, all words leave me, and my heart
leaps with hope.  She cares about me.  I knew she
did, but I didn't realize how much.  She's trying
to hide her feelings behind a mask, and she's not
succeeding.

And even though my throat's closed tight and my
teeth are clenched together, I can't hide my
feelings either; they're pouring out of me.
They're streaking down my face.

----------------

She's stolen my breath away, standing on the roof,
looking for all the world like an otherworldly
creature - a spirit, a ghost, a witch, a vampire.
But she's the antithesis to these things.  She's
merely a woman.

She comes out of the main entrance, down the former
school steps, her long coat flapping behind her.  I
know she's running, but everything's slow motion
and she's ethereal.  Monica has made a fool of me
already, and she's only going to hurt me again, but
whatever it is, whatever she says and no matter how
my heart breaks, it will be worth it to have her
close one last time.

She doesn't slow down until she reaches me.  "Don't
go," she says between breaths.

"You looked like a ghost just now, with your coat
blowing behind you."  My voice sounds just as
fragile as I feel, and it cracks.  "Beautiful, like
a princess witch from a fairy tale."

"Dana."  Her face is wet, her makeup streaked.  Oh,
God.  How could I have hurt her?  I reach up and
tilt her chin toward me.  The pain I see makes me
so sad that my eyes blur with tears.  "I'm sorry,"
I say, knowing it's not enough.  "I didn't mean to
hurt you."

She presses her face into my hand.  "It's my
fault."

"No, it's not your fault, it's mine.  I should have
talked to you.  I thought..."  I try to find words.
"I think I've misunderstood some things."

Monica nods.  I wipe her cheek with my fingers.  "I
can't."  She breaks down.

"I know."  I whisper, trying to soothe her.  I cup
her face and rub her arm.  "I'm going home, okay?"
I keep rubbing her arm.  "I'm glad you invited me
here.  I'm glad I came.  Your place is wonderful,
your friends are great."  I look up at her and
smile.  She breaks my heart.  "And you're amazing."
I catch her hand and press my forehead to it, a
servant begging her forgiveness.  I press my lips
to it, a peasant begging her love.

"Dana," she says, and she finally looks me in the
eye.  "Don't leave."  It comes out broken in her
chattering teeth.  "Don't go."

"I have to, Monica."  I wipe her face again.  "But
it's okay."  She's so sad, and I didn't imagine
that I could hurt her so.  "Everything will be
okay.  It'll be fine."  I remember last Saturday,
how she'd worried that I was leaving town.  "We'll
still work together."  I squeeze her hand.  "I'm
not leaving you."

"No."  She shakes her head.

I'm rubbing her arms.  She must be freezing with
her bare legs and bare back, even with the coat,
but I don't need an excuse to touch her.  Or maybe
I do; maybe that's the whole problem.  "You need to
get inside."  Tears roll down her face.  "It'll be
okay," I promise.  I move past her, but she grabs
my arm and turns me.  "Don't," I whisper.  She's
leaning to kiss me, but I pull away.  My
frustration is a sob.  "I don't know what you
want."

"I think we want the same thing."

"Stop playing word games, Monica."

She flinches.  Her lashes are wet, blinking.  "I
want you to love me."

"Oh."  It's a moan, a small cry.  Time's trapped me
here on this lawn, and I need to leave, because
things can only get more painful for both of us.
"I think you're confused," I say at last.

She shakes her head.  "Not any more."  She touches
my face.  "I didn't know."

"What?"

She whispers something about a secret and a bird,
and leans down and kisses me with cold, cold lips.
It's so slow and sweet that I think I'm dying.  I
don't know that I've ever been kissed like this.
How can she show so much emotion when our mouths
aren't even open?  It's just her lips and my lips,
and she's undoing me.  I catch the lapels of her
coat so that I don't fall at her feet.

Her lips kiss the corners of my mouth, my cheeks.
She rests her forehead on mine.  "Love is
everything, isn't it?"  I'm struck mute, still
reeling from her kiss.  She kisses my brow and
pulls back, looking very seriously into my eyes.
"I want everything."

And oh, I want to give it to her.  I don't tell her
this, of course.  Neither do I tell her that I love
her.  Telling her that would be opening myself more
than I can.

She runs her hands through my hair, letting them
catch and tangle.  "Oh, God," she murmurs.  Her
hands tremble as they trace my cheekbones.  I close
my eyes to the display of emotions on her face; her
feelings are too much for me to accept right now.

She kisses me again, and it's as sweet as the
first.  It's still just her lips on mine.  I'd like
her tongue in my mouth, but this is so tender and
loving that I want to cry.  I clutch her coat like
a lovesick child.  I think I'd take my shoes off
and walk a mile over broken glass, in the freezing
cold, for this kiss.

But then she opens her mouth to me, and I know I'd
crawl.

-----------------------

Somebody's shouting at us, but I'm trying to ignore
him.  Dana's kissing me, and I'm melting into a
million pieces.  It's one of the gentlest, most
affectionate kisses I've ever experienced, and it's
made all the sweeter because the predatory look on
her face is gone, and her hand is not inside my
shirt, and her knee is not between my legs.  She's
clutching my coat, and her eyes are closed.  When I
pull out of the kiss to stare in wonder at her, she
tilts her face up for more, and I oblige.  I think
she must love me.

"Monica!"  The man shouts again.  I pull away from
Dana's mouth reluctantly, extremely annoyed until I
realize it's Raney.

"Your adoring public," Dana murmurs.

But something's wrong; he's stumbling toward us.
"Stephanie," he says, breathing hard, his hands on
his knees.  He takes a moment to look up at Dana
and me, still in each other's arms, and happiness
crosses his face, but I see tears shining in his
eyes.

"What about her?  What's wrong?"

He wheezes, his breath coming in whistles.  Dana
turns and looks at him.  "Spit it out," she barks.

He shakes his head.  "Nothing."  He looks up.
"Sorry, shouldn't have interrupted you."

I know what's wrong - he's drunk.  "Raney," I say
softly, because he's crying.  I walk over and
embrace him.  He's my height but seems smaller in
my arms.

He's still shaking his head.  "She's in there with
some girl."

"Dammit," I mutter.  He doesn't need to say more; I
know what she's doing.  She's been doing this
forever, showing Raney how ugly she can be.  I
don't know what's worse, how she treats him, or how
he lets her.  His heart has been breaking for
fifteen years.

Dana clears her throat.  She looks uncomfortable.
"I'm going inside," she says.  Her arms are crossed
and she must be freezing.  I nod, and she walks
away.  My eyes track her until she disappears in
the shadows of the building.

I rub Raney's back like I've done before, soothing
him with my silent understanding.  And like I've
done before, I'll call a taxi for him, because he
needs to leave soon.  He doesn't drink often, but
when he does, he goes overboard.  I'm beginning to
believe it's the only way he can be near Stephanie.

Stephanie is a good person; she's always been good
to me.  But she hates herself, and this hurts me.
Raney and I love Stephanie more than anyone else;
more, even than her family, than her boys.  And
still we have trouble dealing with her self-
loathing.  It taints every aspect of her life.  It
taints us.

------------------------------

I see Monica standing at the edge, hands resting on
the parapet, and even from this view, she appears
to be calm.  I wonder why she's standing in the
cold with no coat.  Maybe she's not aware of the
cold.  Maybe she's on fire like I am.

She lifts her arms out to her side as if she's
going to fly, as if she's going to jump from the
building and test her wings.  I hold my breath.

Her head tilts up for a long moment, like she's
worshiping the stars in the sky, and she turns her
hands over, palm up, in what must be a dance move,
it's so elegant.  Her fingers curl and uncurl.  And
I know now that she's not trying to fly and she's
not worshiping the heavens.

She's casting another spell.

I move to her and I'm scared to death that this is
a dream and that she does not want me.  By the time
I reach her, her hands rest once again on the
parapet.  She doesn't hear me behind her, such is
the street noise.  I put my hands on her waist.
Her own hands are like ice as they clasp mine and
she pulls me closer.  She's not startled that I'm
here; perhaps she knew I was watching her all
along.  I kiss her frozen back and rest my head
between her shoulder blades.  This is exactly where
I want to be and exactly who I want to be with.
I'm a glowing ember, steadily burning hot against
her cold back.

"Dana Scully," she says hoarsely.

I kiss her between her shoulder blades again.  She
lifts my hands to her lips and kisses them.  She's
got me stretched taut against her back.  She'd
better proceed with caution, or I'll take her right
here.

I don't know how long we stand like this, with her
lips on my fingers, with my head against her back,
before I realize that something's wrong.  "Monica."

She kisses my fingers, and I feel the wetness of
tears.

"Hey."  I pull away and turn her around.  Her eyes
are shining, but she smiles.  "What's wrong?"

She touches my face and her fingers are icicles.
"Nothing," she says.  "Everything's right.
Everything's beautiful."  Her thumb traces my
cheekbone.  "You're beautiful," she says, and leans
down to kiss me.

She's the beautiful one, but I don't have the
vocabulary she has; I don't have the eloquence to
say how beautiful she is.  I keep showing her my
desperation, and I hope she understands.  It's all
I have to give her.

Her hands rest on my hips.  We kiss languidly,
leisurely.  I don't want to take her; I want to be
taken.  I want this roof to be ours and this night
to last forever.  I want to shed my clothes and
feel her naked against me.  I want to undo her like
she's undone me, like she keeps undoing me.

I'm not one to lose control, but I'm losing it to
her.  It's the only way I can show her my love.  I
arch up to her again, to beg for another kiss.
She's generous.  I'm molten, liquid fire, and all I
want is to be poured onto the ground beneath her.

(Continued in part 8)