Title: Unarmed Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. SPOILERS::::US6, POST-Alpha episode, the one with Herr Detweiler, the dog. ~~~~ Unarmed ~~~~ Mulder was lounging in his swivel chair, tapping one finger on his desk, his back to her. She soaked in the quiet, the smell of old paper and new plastic, the subdued blue sky and its hovering UFO. He had tacked up the poster immediately, using his precise methods to even out every corner, to measure off the space and align the edges perfectly. She stood in the doorway, just in the hall, watching him concentrate, the tip of his tongue sure to be sticking out even if she could not see it. Now, the poster was hung, fitting perfectly in its new spot, just like the old, the paper edges more crisp and clear, the letters bolder and unfaded. His belief was back, better than ever, brighter than ever, untattered, pure. She crossed her arms and let her eyes sweep across the office, taking in all its details. Without turning his head, Mulder said, "You can come in Scully." She startled, and jerked forward, coming up behind him. "How long have you known I was here?" she said, standing awkwardly and talking to his head. He shrugged and she moved around his desk to sit on the edge, able to look in his eyes. "I just knew." She nodded and looked the at the poster. "It looks good, Mulder." He smiled. "Yeah, funny. It means something entirely different now." "What's that?" He turned around, tearing his eyes from his gift, looking to her. He ignored the question and frowned at her. "Why do you always have your arms crossed, Scully? Can't you relax with me?" Her face broke into confusion and stole gems of fear to flicker in her eyes. "What?" He shrugged. "You always walk in here with your arms crossed, as if you have to protect yourself from me. I think I understand the word armor now." "I'm not afraid of you, Mulder." She shook her head at his ramblings, recognizing the words for his late night philosophy. He liked to pick things apart, oftentimes her. She didn't like being psychoanalyzed, but she put up with it, to appease him maybe, or to let him think he was doing some good. "No? I think you are afraid you. Not me." "I'm not afraid of myself either." "I think you're *armed,*" he said, obviously enjoying his pun. "You're armed to keep me from really knowing you. Are you afraid of what you'll reveal to me?" She raised her eyebrow and shook her head. "Why don't you go on home, Mulder? I think you're tired." "Yes. I'm tired. I'm frustrated. Now, how do you feel?" She frowned and kept her arms crossed, realizing in some small way that it was for protection, for defense as well as offense. She could keep him away under the guise of unapproachable Scully. "How do you feel?" he asked again, swinging slightly in the chair. She shifted her stance and shook her head. Suddenly, Mulder jerked forward, catching her wrists with tight fingers, digging painfully into her nerves with his thumbs. "Mulder." He pulled down, yanking her arms away from her body, bare before him. She felt suddenly vulnerable, exposed and weak almost, stripped to nothing. Scully shook her head. He was just playing with her mind. "Mulder. I don't appreciate this-" "I'm sure you don't. How else am I going to get to you? You act so cold half the time, when I *know* that you're not. You're not. How come you let people think that?" She tugged on her arms, ignoring his words. "Mulder, let me go." "No. I want you to listen. Why do you perpetuate the myth?" "What?" "You've got more feeling and compassion than anyone I know. The things we see, the people we meet, they hit you hard, Scully. Why won't you let me see that?" She shrugged at him, moving her shoulders in an effort to break from his grip, knowing she couldn't. But his hold on her wasn't really hurting, or painful, just out of her control, and that was something she couldn't deal with. "Werewolves hardly leave an emotional scar, Mulder." "I'm sick of your arms being crossed at me, Scully. Why did you stick around tonight? Why did you watch me hang up this poster?" "I. . ." This should be an easy question. Why did she watch him? He waited, patient as always, watching her. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. It was from Karen, and I didn't want you to be alone in case it was. . .it hurt." He nodded. "You could have told me that. Or you could have simply stayed, instead of hiding out there." She shrugged again. Mulder sighed and let go of her arms, watching with a bit of triumph as she steadied herself against his desk. She did not cross her arms. He smiled at her suddenly. "Let's go get dinner," he said and stood. Her arms came to her stomach, hands tucking before she even realized it. Defense. He watched her, eyes sorrowed. Scully looked down at her folded arms, gauged her feelings for a moment. Slowly, she put her arms to her sides, taking the effort to overcome the instinctive posture. She trusted him. He took one of her hands in his and brought it to his lips. "Thank you Scully." She nodded and walked from the office, Mulder trailing behind. In the doorway, he turned, stopping her short, his eyes back to the freshly painted, scrubbed clean office. The poster was a canvas of order in his chaos, bright and hopeful. Like Scully. Unarmed. ~~~~ end adios RM