Title: Why We Fight
Author: TLynn - talula@davidbowie.com
Keywords: MSR, alternating POV
Spoilers: post-ep for "The Truth"
Rating: R
Archive: Sure. Please just let me know first so I can come visit.
Disclaimer: Sadly, they are not mine and belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. You
can sue me all you want, but all I own is my credit card debt and I doubt
you'd want that.
Thanks: (((hugs))) to my betas on this one, Robin and Gina. Love you guys!
Author's notes: I'm not ready to give up The X-Files, Mulder, or Scully yet.
So this is what I came up with...

 *    *    *    *

"Maybe there's hope."

I said it because I believed it. And I believed it because of her.

My mind refused to calm, filled so many thoughts and plans for what was to
come. But my body was steps behind, betraying my interior as it melted
into its surroundings and drifted to sleep.

I barely heard her whisper as the fog of unconsciousness, helped along by
the rhythmic sound of the falling rain, descended upon me.

"So completely," she said, her hands tightening just a little more around
me. "So completely do I love you."

I wanted to respond, in so many ways, but I was already asleep and dreaming,
of a happiness that I knew we may never quite achieve.

 *    *    *    *

'Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.'

My father instilled that rhyme in me from an early age and even now, some
twenty-five years later, I remember it as I wake, always in the early hours
of day.

A beautiful sight greeted me as I opened my eyes, lovelier than any I had
ever experienced. He was still sleeping soundly, his lips parted slightly as
he breathed in his sleep. We were relatively in the same position as when we
fell asleep and I knew both our bodies were going to be stiff with protest
when we wanted to move them again.

But I had no intention of moving. Not yet, anyway. I let my eyes close again
and drifted back to sleep with ease, ignoring the sunlight that was
beginning to peer through the thinly curtained window.

'I truly feel healthy, wealthy, and wise, Ahab. And it's because of the man

right in front of me.'

*    *    *    *

I didn't know what time it was when I finally woke up and didn't really
care. She slept next to me still, wrapped safely in my arms. I truly could
have stared at her there for hours more, but my back was already protesting
because of the motionless night.

As carefully as I could, and thankfully, with success, I slid out from under
and around my sleeping partner and stood up next to the bed. I leaned down
and folded half of the bedspread so it was resting on top of her, some extra
warmth for her body, which suddenly looked so small on the expanse of the
bed. Before I rose back up, I placed my lips on hers and kissed her gently.

I think my heart actually skipped a beat when I saw the corners of her mouth
turn up in a small smile, even as she slept.

Before heading to the bathroom for a shower, I turned and went to the window
behind me. Looking out, I saw the sun peeking out from behind a mass of dark
clouds, but a light rain still fell to the ground in silence.

As long as the sun was shining, somewhere, anywhere, I knew we would find
the path to reach it together.

*    *    *    *

I reached out for him and when I was met with empty space, the familiar mix
of dread, fear, loneliness, and sorrow flowed through me. I sat up quickly
and allowed my fears to get the best of me for a moment: what if he had left
me again?

But I soon heard the sounds of him showering and relief was all I felt. I
knew he couldn't leave me any more than I could leave him, not now.

I made my way over to the bathroom door. He had left it partially open, the
steam rising out in a thick fog, and as I approached the small room I could
hear him.

He was weeping.

It's not often that I, or anyone, see him cry but I know that a man who
carries the weight of the world on his shoulders every day of his life needs
to do so. But I wasn't about to let him do it alone.

I untied my bathrobe and let it fall off my shoulders to the floor. I
slipped my nightgown and panties off as well, both sliding down my legs to
join the robe in a pile on the floor.

The shower curtain was at arm's length from where I was so I pulled it
open just enough to allow myself to step in behind him. He stood with his
back facing me, his arms bracing the weight of his body against the wall.
His palms were flat against the tile, but his fingers were curled against it
as though he were clawing at it. The muscles in his shoulders and back were
tense, as well as those in his buttocks and legs. His head was bowed down
between his outstretched arms, the spray of hot water pouring down over him
endlessly.

This poor man.

"Mulder. . ." I said tentatively, not wanting to startle him.

But he made no sound and moved not an inch. I reached out and wrapped my
arms around his waist and leaned into his body, trying my best to envelop
him with my love. It seemed like hours, but finally he began to relax and
one of his arms came down and held mine over his abdomen.

We stayed there, not moving, drawing from each other, until the water
started to run cold.

*    *    *    *

I wanted to tell her to leave me alone. But I didn't. I couldn't have done
that to her and I know I couldn't have done that to myself. She is my air
and I need her to breathe. She is my soul and I need her to heal.

Wordlessly, we stepped out of the tub together as the gooseflesh appeared on
our bodies. I stood there in front of her like a child as she reached for
two towels, first wrapping one around her own body, then taking the other in
her hand to dry me off. I smiled inwardly as she had to stand on her tiptoes
to reach my head, toweling off the dampness of my hair. So soft and slow,
she ran the white cotton over my face, down my neck, and over my chest. She
reached around and took the towel in two hands and wrapped it around my
waist, snugly tying it at my hip.

She took my hand in one of hers then, the other reaching up to rest on my
face as I looked down on her stunning beauty. She had tears in her eyes,
causing the bright blue to shine even more.

"Scully. . ." I began, but she spoke first.

"Can I shave your face for you?" she asked.

*    *    *    *

I think we were both surprised by my question, but only for a moment. He
smiled down at me in response and simply nodded.

I led him over to the lidded toilet and sat him down slowly. He watched me
silently as I filled the sink next to us with warm water and gathered the
small can of shaving cream and a razor. I moved back and sat down on his
lap, straddling him, our faces so very close. A shiver ran through my body
as he slid his hands onto my hips and stroked me softly and continuously.

I took great care in spreading an even amount of cream onto his face, my
hands shaking a little as I did so. He stared at me intently, his own hands
now traveling down to rest on my thighs. I took the razor in my hand now and
ran it down one side of his face, once and then twice. My breath hitched as
I rinsed the blade in the sink, feeling his hands now sliding up my thighs
even further, resting when his thumbs reached the damp nest of curls between
them.

The beads of moisture than ran down the steam-covered mirror were in sync
with the beads than began to run down my forehead, a mixture of remaining
water from my hair and a breaking sweat. I continued my task, carefully
still, stroke by stroke until only remnants of the foam remained around the
edges and his face was a smooth as silk.

"I'm going to get a towel to wipe your face off with," I whispered, though
making no attempt to rise from his lap.

"I have a better idea," he responded, lifting his hands up and then to the
sides, effectively stripping me of the thin cotton towel that I had wrapped
around myself.

He eyed me hungrily, his eyes devouring every inch of my flesh that was
before him. I felt every inch my being catch fire as he did so and leaned
in, taking his mouth with my own. His tongue sought mine greedily, pushing
through my lips easily. I felt his arousal begin to push at my own through
the fabric that still rested around his waist and I pushed it aside quickly,
taking him fully in my hands.

He hissed into my mouth and stood up quickly, bringing me with him. I
wrapped my legs around his waist and let him carry me out onto the bed, our
mouths never breaking, our need so great.

Oh, how I missed this.

*    *    *    *

I had imagined our reunion to be. . .animalistic. I imagined ravishing her
flesh and pounding into her without regard, fucking the last remaining
breath out of both of us.

But now, as I lay her on the bed and stand above her waiting body, I know
that right now I need to savor her. I had forgotten some of my favorite
things in the year that we were apart. I had forgotten how beautiful she
looks when her cheeks are flushed like they are now, how perfectly delicious
the swell of her breasts are under my tongue, and the look in her eyes when
I finally enter into her.

"I don't think I can wait much longer," I tell her truthfully.

"Then don't," she said, inviting me down with her outstretched arms and open
legs.

I reach down first and run a single finger up the length of her slick
opening and she gasps in response.

"You're close, too, aren't you?" I ask as I begin to cover her body with my
own.

I slowly guide myself in, filling her completely. I feel drunk with the feel
of her around me, with the sight of her open mouth and closed eyes, with the
way she possessively wraps her body around mine and moves her hips beneath
me with impatience.

For this moment, I am again one lucky sonofabitch.

*    *    *    *

My back is pressed into his chest as we lay together facing the window as
dusk approaches. His arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me to him.

As if I would ever leave.

We haven't spoken of it, but I know that tomorrow we have to leave. I would
give anything to stay in this motel room for the rest of my life. I think he
would, too. The choice to do so is a simple one, but simplicity has never
been a part of who he is, of who we are together.

I feel my eyelids get heavy and I know sleep is once again on the horizon.
And by the sound of his breath in my ear, I know he is close to succumbing
to it as well. Before it happens, I ask one question.

"Where do we go from here, Mulder?"

"We just go, Scully," he said. "We just go with our faith and we fight.
Because I know we can."

*    *    *    *
end