Title: The Rains (1/1) Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox, but they are most definitely brought to life by Gillian Anderson and David Duchovny, and sometimes in that order too. Notes/SPOILERS: for GA's ep, which I don't know what it's called. But I have to say it's one of the best episodes for the X-Files I have seen in about four seasons. Since Beyond the Sea I would guess. Wonderful, marvelous directing, with that song of Moby's in there, and the slow motion effects. I think this has got to be my absolute favorite. Not only did she have Scully coming to a certain amount of understanding and contentment with her life, but she had them TALK ABOUT IT together! Agh. I have an amazing respect for Gillian Anderson now. And the writing, the plot of it, is amazing as well. I was impressed with the story line, with the remarkable lack of stupid Mulder sayings, and the flow with which the episode continued. Thank you Gillian Anderson. on with the story-- =-=-=-= The Rains =-=-=-= speak to me baby, in the middle of the night speak to me hold your mouth to mine 'cause the sky is breaking it's deeper than love i know the way you feel like the rains outside speak to me --the sky is broken, moby =-=-=-= There is the rain falling in gentle shudders across the tarmac as I leave, an offbeat to the murmuring inside my heart, my head, a timed thrumming that speaks of whispers. I wait under the overhang, smelling the rain and the wet earth and the freshness of it, not thinking. The air is warm with storm and lightning, and the feel of it presses against my skin as I walk into the rain. It pours. I'm soon soaked, tired of hurrying through things, so I'm soaked. Soaked. It's all in me, the water running down my neck through the soft hairs of my neck, the skin of my neck so chilled suddenly. The water droplets clinging to my shirt disappearing, falling between my breasts and rolling to a stop at my bra. Stopped. I pause in the midst of the rain and feel my keys in the fingers of my left hand and the rushed feel of running in my head. I look back up at his window, blinking through the rain and the fuzz of fear and rushing. I'm hurrying through this as well. Mulder is left there alone. He wouldn't wonder if I left; he'd expect me to leave before morning. He would expect me to wake up and slip out slowly. I didn't slip out slowly though, I took a shower and got dressed and left the door open to feel the cold draft of the apartment against my skin as I showered. And he never woke. He never woke up. I dressed right there seeing his sleeping form in the mirror, praying he didn't wake up and praying he would, but knowing that even if he did, nothing would happen. It seems I will have to do something about this myself. I have found myself now, and I have decided things, decided where I want to be and when. It all came to that moment, like he said, and I fell asleep. Ha. I fell asleep. That's cosmically amusing, I suppose. So now, I stand in the rain wondering if I should go back up there and wake him up. Or fall asleep next to him. I smile through the rain, through the whisper of the world to my soul, and I begin walking for the apartment again, tucking my keys back into my pocket and forgetting the rush. The door slides open and I am back inside the foyer, smelling the dampness of moulding and walls and wood. It smells faintly like Mulder, and I begin walking the steps, looking for some time. It takes faster than I intended and I am at his door again, biting my lip and seeing Mulder's sleeping form in the reflection of the mirror before me again. I take a deep breath and withdraw my keys. =-=-=-= There is the rustle of sheets and the soft sigh of a woman. He wakes, not fully, to her touch and shifts. She presses a kiss to his forehead as he seeks her warmth, and shivers. The bed is cold from the rain and the sheet, but she slides a hand to his chest and places her head very carefully on top of her hand, an unconscious mirroring of an earlier action. He smiles in his sleep for a moment, then the beat and tap of rain on roof and window and street pulls him back down to the more natural dreams. She sighs in relief and closes her eyes, unwilling to explain even to herself. The rain is in tempo with his heartbeat and she lets it rock her into soothing dark blankness. =-=-=-= I wake at four in the morning and feel warmth and rain around me. My eyes open and it is Scully, sleeping at my side with her body curled so tightly, so tight like she doesn't want to impose. The smell of rain in my head makes things different and I blink against the image of tears coursing her cheeks that are really raindrops sliding down the window pane. I turn and place a soft, nothing kiss to her forehead, smoothing her hair and curling my fingers around her jaw. She sleeps on and I notice the soap smell clinging to her, the fresh dampness in her clothes and hair. Her keys are in her jacket pocket and digging into my hip bone. I ease away and pull the covers up to encompass her small, tightly curled frame. Her head lolls on my chest; I can feel her breath warm and gentle on my shirt. "Scully?" She stirs and her eyes open slowly and deeply, like I could see into them and down down down to her soul. "Mmm?" "You want to take your jacket off?" I whisper, stroking my fingers along her jawline. She nods and we struggle against sleep and her limp arms to get the jacket off and then she falls back to her old position, barely taking any room and one tentative hand to my chest. Smiling softly, I pull her over to me, letting her stretch long against my frame, her socked feet coming to my calves. "Want to take your hose off?" I ask. She murmurs something so I let it go, enjoying the feel of her trying to get comfortable against me. "Where'd you go?" I ask, not able to help it. "Played in the rain," she says, lifting one drowsy lid to peer at me. I smile and press my nose to her hair, smelling my own shampoo and a delicious new earth kind of scent that makes her seem more alive right now. "Mm, I leave for two days and you're a new woman," I say gently, laughing to myself, at her even. "No. Just sure of who I've always wanted to be." And she's with me. Who she wants to be and with me. She says nothing more and I enjoy the stillness of her sleep against me and the sway of rain against the window, the street, the lawns. Her fingertips brush once across the skin of my neck, then away. She sighs into dreams and slips from my consciousness. I breathe in. The rains are soft and gentle outside. The storm is gone. I press my mouth to her parted lips, just for a moment, and smile. =-=-=-= end adios RM --And no one even needed closure because the wonderful Gillian Anderson provided us with Mulder and Scully talking things through!!