Mine
By RocketMan

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Notes: This is first person with hints of MSR--you know me, can't stand
for it to be platonic
=====

I thought he was mine. I mean no one else ever really wanted him. It's
not so much the sexual thing, or the Soul Mates, just that he isn't
mine.

And I'm not his.

Melissa Ephesian pretty much made that clear. Or Sarah or whatever her
name was. They are meant to be, or something crazy like that. But he
asked me if I had known would I change it.

Hell no. 

And hell yeah.

I would have let myself be myself. Maybe then I would be seen as a
woman, a person with feelings. But I can't blame that on anyone but me.

But I thought he was mine.

I really did.

He touches me and talks to me inches in front of me. His eyes follow me,
his hand comes to my back, he even called my name out in his sleep once
or twice. I thought Mulder was mine and I was his.

Oh, I would love to be his. Just to have someone know me like that. To
have someone touch me like that. To have *him* know and touch me as his.

I see lovers touch and think it's not quite the same. It's the kind of
thing where they have a right to touch you, anywhere, because......well
they just do.

And I thought Mulder had that right. I thought I had that right. 

Oh I don't exercise that right.

But it's comforting to have it.

But I don't have it.

Melissa does. And he cried over her and cradled her head even as she was
dead. Touching. 

I wish.......

I need to stop this. It's pitiful and pathetic......and oh the truth.

I laugh to myself.

There's your truth Mulder. I'm pathetically in love with you.

No....just.....I just want to have that connection with you. I even have
that with my brothers.....

Are you mine?

I look at him, standng in that field, the field where we both died.

If I am always with him, then maybe he is mine. His soul and spirit. His
heart could be another's, Melissa's, but he, himself, is mine.

Mine.

I like that.

He looks up as I cross over to him.

He needs me.

He sighs and I slip the pictures from his hands and let him fall onto
me.

"She wasn't it..." he murmurs.

"Mulder...." I am trying to be against this notion of past lives. I am
really. But I would like to have a Soul Mate.

"She wasn't, Scully. I could tell. Maybe her regression was messed up by
her schizophrenia. And it fostered on me, when I regressed."

Was he saying he wasn't Melissa's?

"No, she wasn't it."

Was he saying it for his sanity?

"No, because......because someone else is it."

Oh....

Was he still mine though?

He touches my waist and sighs deeply.

I stroke his forehead and I know, I know.

He is mine.

And I am his.

His hand brushes my back and the pictures fall from my hands. He is
touching me.....just touching. Unconsciously touching me in the spots
that make me relax because he knows it. And I know I am his.

"Scully....."

And his lips are touching my hair, brushing as his hand did along my
back. His lips are touching my forehead, then my eyelids and it stops.

It stops.

He knows who his Soul Mate is.......me.

He is mine......I am his.

"You're mine." he whispers, in eery cadence with the thoughts in my
head.

I only nod as he pulls away.

He's mine.

end.
good? Bien?
 mal?
adios
RocketMan