Author's Note:  This story pretty much wrote itself after
the last scene of the finale. 

Disclaimer:  Mulder and Scully aren't mine.  They belong to
Chris Carter, who wouldn't approve of the scenario that I'm
generating for his characters. 

Category: V, A  MSR
Rating: R (language, sexual situations)
Spoilers: The End
Archive:  Lynn: Go ahead and of course, Gossamer.
Everyone else ask me first. 
Summary: What do you do when everything is taken away?
Feedback:   I don't see why not. 

"Clinging To Hope"
by Lisa 
(haven599@msn.com) 


   As I stood there, my head resting on Mulder's shoulder, I couldn't
believe this happened.  The fire.  The whole office was destroyed.  
All the work we've done the past 6 years - gone.  I couldn't even 
imagine what Mulder was thinking right now.  I wrapped my arms
around his waist and buried my face deeper into his chest.  However,
this gesture elicited no response from him.  I guess I expected him to
hug me back.  He didn't.  It was like I was holding onto a statue.  
I don't think he's comprehended what has happened yet.  Too numb
from the past few days.  

   I let go of him and backed away, taking another look at our office
amidst the ruins.  Mulder still had a blank expression on his face. I
didn't know what to say to him.  What could I say?  No words would
soothe him at this moment.  This was too much for him to process.  

   I walked over to him touching his hand lightly.  "C'mon, we can't 
do anything now." I told him.  I needed to get him out of here.  
Mulder looked at me as if he's forgotten I was there with him. 
He walked out and I followed behind him.  We walked in silence to
the parking garage and got into my car.  Mulder slumped down in 
the passenger seat staring aimlessly out the window.  It was so quiet.
I didn't turn on the radio.  The only sounds were made by cars 
rushing past us as I drove.  

   My mind wandered to Diana Fowley.  Even though I had spoken with 
Langly, Frohike, and Byers I still didn't have a clear picture of their
relationship.  Seeing them together talking and touching was the last 
straw.  I had to get out of there.  Rushing to my car, I hoped they 
wouldn't come out and see me.  I was so hurt, I almost cried right
there in the driver's seat.  Instead, I called him and told him to meet
me at the office.  I wanted to be on familiar territory.  The office. 
That was *our* place.  She couldn't have it.  My voice had been so
shaky, I was surprised I kept it together during the call.  I was 
waiting for Mulder to ask me if I was OK.  Of course, I would 
have said that I was fine, my standard reply to his ever-present 
concern for my well-being.  It bothered me how badly I wanted 
to know about their relationship.  I couldn't just ask Mulder - he 
wouldn't tell me anything, at least anything important.  Were they
lovers?  God, I can't believe that question has been running through 
my mind since I first found out they had a history together.  I really
have no right to know.  It's none of my business.  Mulder and I are
partners, nothing more.  If we were a couple I'd have more of a 
right to know.  Hell, we've never even had a date.  I guess I'm 
just jealous because I feel that Mulder is mine now.  We've been 
working together for six years and I have come to care about him
very much.  Six years, wow, that is longer than some marriages last.
We share a certain intimacy, but we aren't intimate.  

   We were at his apartment complex now.  Mulder got out, walking
swiftly through the door and to the elevator.  I had to hurry to 
catch up with his long strides.  

   Nothing was said in the elevator, either.

   We walked through the door of his apartment.  It looked the same as
it had an half hour ago except the atmosphere had changed.  It was 
filled with tension, before it had just been worry.  Mulder kept 
looking around the room as if an answer to our problems would 
appear out of thin air.  Then, he kicked over the desk chair and 
knocked over the books and papers with one sweep of his arm. 
   "Dammit!" he yelled.
   "Mulder . . ."  I went over to him.  I was a little afraid to touch
him when he was like this.  
   "I've wasted seven fucking years of my life, Scully!!" he screamed.
   "Mulder, no . . ."
   "Yes, Scully and I've done the same to you." he said, the anger 
in his voice softening a little.  
   "No you haven't."  
   "Oh yeah, I forgot They made you waste these years with me. That's  
even worse."  he replied dejectedly. 
   "Mulder, they haven't been a waste."  I said.  
   "You're wrong, Scully.  What have we learned?  Nothing.  Every 
time we get close to the truth, they pull the rug out from under us."
   I could tell from the sound of his voice the anger was coming back.
   "We just know three things.  Number one: I'm a joke.  Number 
two:  You're made fun of because you're my partner.  Number 
three:  They can get away with anything they damn well want to
by covering it up with enough bullshit!" 
   Mulder slumped down on the couch, his head in his hands.  
   I heard him sobbing softly.  I moved to sit down next to him.  
   "We can't give up."  I said quietly.  "That's what they want. 
We have to try and fight Them every step of the way."
   "I don't know, Scully.  I  . . . I don't think I can cling to 
the hope that things will get better."   He was still crying.
   It was my turn.  My turn to touch him.
   I  put my arms around him, pulling him into my embrace. But,
it was just like earlier at the office. He didn't move at all.  I 
pressed my lips into his hair murmuring words of comfort to him.
It wasn't working and it hurt too much to see him like this.  I kissed
him softly on the forehead.  Then moved down to his cheeks tasting
the salt of his tears.
   Mulder now wrapped his arms around me, pulling me against 
his chest.  Before I knew what happened, he was kissing my face,
my cheeks and finally my mouth.  It was the most erotic kiss I had 
received; needy, frantic, and passionate.
   He pressed me into the couch and began unbuttoning my sweater.
Mulder's hands were now on my heated skin as we resumed kissing. 
I felt like we were two lovers who haven't seen each other in a long
time and *needed* to touch each other.  
   He stopped.
   "Mulder . . ."  I moaned.  "Don't.  Don't stop."  
   "Come here."  he said before taking my hand and leading me to the
bedroom.  It was dark as we each took off our clothes.  I guess it
was only fitting we would have sex in the dark.  We've already done
everything else in it.  Well, it wasn't totally dark.  My eyes adjusted
and I could make out his naked body from the moonlight filtering in
through the open curtains.  
   We fell into bed together.  Mulder's hands and lips roamed over 
my entire body now.  My only response was a low moan as I pulled 
him closer to me.  I felt him push my legs apart and enter me.  I cried 
out from the pain and pleasure of it.  He started to thrust into me 
until I couldn't stand it anymore and dug my hands into his shoulders
crying out his name in the darkness of his bedroom.  
   I felt him collapse on top of me.  I heard my name escape his lips 
in a way I never had heard before.  It was like a whispered prayer.
Of hope, maybe? Mulder moved off of me as I struggled to recover
from the intensity of the past few minutes.  Wrapping his arms around
my waist, he pulled me against his sweat-slicked body.  
   After a few minutes, I finally decided to break the silence. 
   "Where do we go from here?"  I asked him.
   "I don't know."  he replied before tightening his arms around
me and softly kissing my hair.  
   Neither did I. 

END?

You decide.  Yes?  No?  - L.