TITLE: Running the Gamut

Author: Emmyjean (emmyjeanb@yahoo.com)

Category: M/S UST

Spoilers: Ice, some for Pilot

Archive & Feedback: With permission only please, just so I know where it is. As for feedback…YES! J

Disclaimer

Mulder stared blankly at his laptop, his hands resting idly on the keys. He was supposed to be typing a report on his version of the events which transpired inside the isolated Arctic compound over the past few days. Right now, however, he simply could not get himself to concentrate. His mind kept wandering to dwell upon things which had happened that would most certainly be left out of the report.

"Something to drink, sir?" he was pulled suddenly from his thoughts as a young blonde flight attendant passed with the beverage cart. She gave him the eye as she asked, but he barely noticed.

"Umm…no. Do you happen to have any peanuts?"

She smiled and bent to retrieve them from the lower shelf.

"Here you go. Enjoy," she said a bit suggestively, and then thankfully moved along with her cart and left him again to his reverie.

He tore the package and simply set it down on his lowered tray, next to the computer. He wasn't really that hungry. He cast a glance at his partner…he had let Scully have the window seat so that she could use the wall to prop her pillow. She had been exhausted ever since they stepped foot into the airport, which was a good five hours ago. She was sleeping peacefully now, her mouth slightly open as she breathed softly and steadily. She probably hadn't slept in days…neither of them had.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering for the thousanth time why he wasn't tired. He came up with the same answer he always did- too much thinking going on in his naturally hectic brain.

Something had happened back in that frozen hell that didn't really have anything to do with parasites or ice samples. He could close his eyes and remember the night he had spent locked inside that dark supply room…

He had been angry. That wasn't surprising, considering the situation into which he had been unceremoniously thrust. He was under suspicion of murder, and he was a damn FBI agent. He was trapped in this god-awful place which was already lonely enough to drive a man insane, and then they had locked him in a closet, aggravating even more the claustraphobic feeling. At that moment, he resented both Hodge and DaSilva beyond measure…

…but Scully. He couldn't resent her. He wanted to- he wanted to swear her off, to tell himself he didn't care. She was just like all the others…all the other agents who called him "Spooky" and made a joke of his life an his work. She didn't believe him, she didn't trust him, and therefore he could never give her his trust. He had known from the moment she walked into his office that she wasn't going to last long, that she would be running for the hills in a matter of months.

He had counted on it. Even looked forward to it…for about five hours.

Then, she threw him for a loop. She supported his theory in her first report. She supplied his obscenely theoretical case with hard evidence…something he had never been able to do for an X-File. She came into his room late at night and demonstrated her trust in him…

…and he had lost his resolve. He spilled his whole life story to her. Something in him had told him to stop talking, to never trust this small government-issued redhead with any of his secrets…or his files. But he hadn't been able to help it. He told her everything, and when he was finished, she did the most shocking thing of all…she didn't laugh. She never so much as smiled through the entire incredible story. Her face wore an expression of interest, concern…his hungry eyes even detected a hint of excitement in hers. Excitement about her assignment, the case, her job, the story…whatever. It was more than he'd ever seen in anyone else's face before regarding his screwed-up life.

That was why it hurt so much when she pulled the door shut on him in that storage room. That was why he felt an unexpected jab of pain in his gut as he heard her slide the lock in place. He had listened for the sound of her receding footsteps…but they never came. He heard her slide down the other side of the door and land on the floor…she was sitting there. Protecting him, or protecting the others from him? He simply did not know.

He had turned off the light and sat on the floor himself in the darkness, and waited.

Hours later- or maybe minutes, he couldn't be sure- the door was suddenly thrown open, waking him from a light slumber. He hauled himself quickly to his feet, ready to defend himself from the intruder…and then his eyes adjusted to the light, and he could see Scully's small, unmistakable silhouette in the doorway. She was standing still, not approaching.

"It's just you?" he asked quietly, but in a slightly suspicious tone.

She confirmed that she was alone, and then the door closed behind her. After a beat, she reached up quickly and jerked the cord which turned on the sole light bulb in the room. They stood staring at each other for a few moments, every second that went by making him angrier. She was breathing heavily in controlled fear…why the hell was she so scared? It was just HIM, for Christ's sake! She didn't really think he'd do anything to hurt her, did she?

"We found a way to kill it," she began, her voice calm, "Two worms in one host will kill each other."

He nodded his head in frustration at her ignorance, and replied in clipped tones, "You give me one worm, and you'll infect me."

Her eyes suddenly lit up in anger as her fear seemed to dissipate, and she took a step towards him, saying in a fierce whisper, "If that's true, then why didn't you let us inspect you!?"

Fury rose up inside him in turn and he got right in her face, using his height to intimidate her. He was much bigger than she was. "I would have, but you pulled a GUN on me!" he practically snarled at her, "Now I don't trust them…"

He stopped for a second, looking down at her blue eyes. So much honesty there, so much integrity. More than he had ever seen in anyone before…more than he even believed he had within himself. She was a good agent, but more than that, she was a good ally. A good person.

He softened his tone and whispered to her, "I want to trust you."

It was true. Despite their major personality differences, he already liked her, he already respected her, and he wanted badly to trust her. He had felt she was worthy of it on that night in Oregon…that by some miracle, she might be able to live up to his impossible expectations. He prayed now that he hadn't been mistaken. It had been so long since he had known anyone he could really trust. Maybe he never had.

She finally spoke, her voice shaking, her eyes unable to meet his, "Okay…but now they're not here…"

This was it- she was giving him an opening. The opening he needed to prove to her that he was willing to trust her, especially after having made it clear on the last few cases that he didn't need a partner.

He looked at her for another moment, then turned his back to her and exposed his neck. He was taking on a position of vulnerability, and they both knew it. He had only turned his back to her, but he felt like he had just stripped off every piece of clothing he wore.

Without hesitation, she roughly pulled his shirt-collar down with one hand, and with her other she firmly inspected his neck and shoulders. Only to Mulder, it felt more like a massage…the hairs on his arms stood up as he closed his eyes for a split second at the contact. It felt…good. Really good. He almost felt like smiling as he wondered faintly what she would do if he asked her to keep going. Probably treat him to a strong left hook.

She stopped and as she took a step back, he spun around to face her, a serious, questioning look on his face. She cast her eyes to the floor in embarassment and gave a soft laugh in apology. He was clean. Then she turned and started purposefully back toward the door…

…and he reached out and caught her shoulder with his hand. He had done it a bit more roughtly than he had intended to, and she had let out a surprised gasp, but he needed to make sure. She tried to look back at him and he stopped her with a gentle hand to her face, indicating that he didn't intend to hurt her. She understood, seemingly, because she stood still as he pulled her shirt down to expose her neck and upper back…

…and as he softly brushed the wisps of red hair which had fallen from her ponytail away from her neck, he could feel with some shock that more things were beginning to stand up on him than just the hair on his arms. Oh, well…just biology kicking in, nothing more. Under the circumstances, it wasn't really that astonishing. He promptly pushed it out of his mind, and continued with what he was doing.

He covered her entire neck with his hand, and he found himself staring at the contrast between his tanned skin and her milky complexion. She was so small…

He felt a wave of tenderness overtake him, and he nearly got angry at it. What the hell was this, a soap opera? Was he getting soft as he approached his middle-thirties, or what? He wasn't supposed to feel protective of his partner. She could take care of herself, and these were the wrong emotions to be feeling.

She turned to face him finally, seemingly wondering why he was just standing there. He didn't let go of her neck…was he caressing her? Could this be constituted as holding her? He didn't even know anymore. For all he knew, she could turn around and slap him with a sexual harassment suit next week. The corners of his mouth twitched as he thought about how Skinner would probably react to that.

Meanwhile…what the hell was going on? She started to breathe a little heavier now, but this time it wasn't due to fear, and he could hear himself doing it as well. Their eyes met, and held...crap, what is this? How had they both somehow lost control of the situation? Someone should do something…

She, as was her habit, did the responsible thing. She took a step back and effectively disconnected her neck from his hand whose fingers had, unbeknownst to him, been entwining themselves in her hair.

"Mulder…"
He looked at the floor and shook his head, "Scully, I'm sorry. I…I don't know what the hell that was."

"It's okay," she interrupted reassuringly, though he didn't know if she was reassuring him or herself, "it's been a stressful couple of days in an extremely unnatural situation. These two factors combined often cause otherwise rational people to act in ways which are normally unusual for them…"

She stopped as he smiled and shook his head. "Always ready with a scientific explaination, Scully?"

She smiled back and said, "That's my job, Mulder. Speaking of which, I assume I'm not infected?"

He shook his head, and she sighed, "Than that means it's either Hodge or DaSilva. Come on….we'd better hurry."

He followed her as she opened the door and exited the room…and that was the last he had thought of it until now.

He was brought back to the present as Scully stirred beside him. She yawned and opened her eyes halfway to glance at him.

"What time is it, Mulder?"

"It's about two o'clock, Scully. Go back to sleep, we don't land for an hour yet."

She nodded, and after making a futile effort to fluff her flat pillow a bit more, she was asleep again within minutes. Mulder, meanwhile, decided that this flight was not going to be a total waste and forced himself to at least get started on his report.

He had been typing for a decent half-hour before he heard his partner stir again, and sigh softly, unconsciously trying to find a comfortable spot in her cramped surroundings.

Suddenly, he felt her head come to rest on his shoulder. He looked down at her, startled, and found she wasn't even aware she was doing it. He inhaled and caught a noseful of her scented shampoo, resisting the urge to rest his cheek on her head and doze off himself.

He smiled, anticipating her embarassment when she realized that she was using his shoulder as a headrest. Not that he minded at all.

He went back to typing his report, thinking that something important had happened on this last case. Something he hadn't ever bothered to wish for…he had achieved genuine trust with another person. The same person who had been assigned to the X-Files to ruin him.

Imagine that.

FINIS