Disclaimer: Nope, these characters aren't mine. Category: VRA Classification: Mulder/Scully UST Rating: PG Spoilers: En Ami Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Others ask me. Feedback: Knock yourself out. Summary: Scully attempts to atone for her lapse in judgement. Thanks to: Sara Lynn for the beta and kind words. "Stroke of Midnight" (1/1) by Lisa (haven599@msn.com) "It's that feeling I get about you, deep inside And I can't describe But it's something about the way you look tonight Takes my breath away The way you look tonight" --- Bernie Taupin Mulder was furious with me. I could see it in his eyes, his movements, the way he would look right through me. It had been two days since I showed him the building where The Smoking Man's office had been. It would have been easier if I was able to forgive myself. How could I let myself be used like that? And by *that* man. Mulder and I both know how dangerous he is and I blindly followed him at the mere mention of the word cancer. Actually, cancer followed by the word cure. I've lost some of Mulder's trust that I value so much. The trust that has been slowly gained over a number of years. This wasn't just a minor transgression, either. Lies. To Mulder, the man I care about most in this world. Smoking Man's frank words about me being afraid to let myself love Mulder unsettled me. Being that I disliked him so much, I wouldn't want to hear anything he had to say, let alone something negative about myself. Something I don't want to face. I'm afraid. Afraid to walk over to Mulder and put my arms around him for no reason at all. Just because I want to. Not because he is upset, hurt, or grieving for someone or something he has lost. Perhaps if we were alone together and not on a case, I could try to show him how much I care for him. I'm afraid. But I'm much more afraid of this growing rift between us. I don't want it to get any worse. I walked into our office Tuesday morning and took a deep, calming breath before asking him to go to dinner with me Thursday night. "Dinner? he said. "Thursday?" Mulder sounded like I asked him to donate a kidney, instead of share a meal on Thursday. I was nervously awaiting his answer, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions as to what this was about. I haven't even thought the whole thing through myself. "Sure," he answered. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. "How about eight o'clock?" He nodded and I left the room before he could ask anything else. I didn't have a plan. I wished I had thought about this dinner more before asking Mulder. Besides apologizing to him, what else were we going to talk about? Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all. But I couldn't back out now. The answer came to me later on that evening when I was at the mall no less. I wanted to get some pantyhose and look for some new shoes. I'm not one of those women who likes to shop. I go to the mall for a specific purpose only. I happened to glance up from my task of picking out hosiery and that's when I saw it. The overhead lights danced on the fabric, making it look as if it contained hundreds of tiny diamonds interwoven into the shawl. It was displayed on a mannequin wearing a similar black dress to the brand new one residing in my closet. This would be the perfect accessory to the beautiful dress The Smoking Man gave me. I thought about giving the dress away, fearing every time I looked at it I would remember the scam he pulled on me. Perhaps a happy occasion would remedy that. I bought the shawl and the pantyhose and headed for home. **** Thursday evening came before I knew it. I told Mulder yesterday that the restaurant I chose required formal dress. I could tell he was thinking he had to wear a tux, but I allayed his fears by saying a suit would be fine. Unwilling to give up any control over this evening, I told him I would pick him up and then we would go to the restaurant. Standing outside his door now, I've never felt so afraid in my life. I raised my hand and knocked sharply. Mulder opened the door and mumbled something like he'd be ready in a minute and walked into the bedroom, not even looking at me. I let the shawl fall down my shoulders. The cool air on my shoulders felt good. "Scully, are we going to -" He came back out from the bedroom, finishing straightening his tie and stopped in mid-stride. "I didn't expect you to . . ." he began, then paused. "God, Scully, you look so beautiful." He smiled at me. I thought I could handle this. I don't what possessed me to say these next words: "The Smoking Man bought it for me." His smile faded as quickly as it came. "Oh." "I couldn't make myself give it away. Besides, it's a Richard Tyler," I told him. Like Mulder really cares about that. I don't either. It just came out of my mouth. Why couldn't I just say thank you for the compliment and move on? "Are you ready?" I asked. "Yes." He hurried to open the door for me, putting his other hand on my lower back just briefly as we exited the apartment. **** The restaurant was filled with happy looking couples sipping wine over a single lit candle in the center of the elegantly set table. He kept glancing at my dress. I know it must be a bit of a shock to him to see me out of my usual business attire. It makes me feel good to be on the receiving end of the so few compliments Mulder bestows upon me. Even though he's wearing a suit, which I see him in almost every day, I'm finding myself drawn to him romantically. It's an unusual feeling for me, perhaps it's just the surrounding atmosphere; the fact that *we* are on a date. The waiter had shown us to a quiet table in the corner and I ordered a bottle of wine. We both studied the menus in silence for a few minutes. "Scully," Mulder set the menu down and cleared his throat before continuing, "Don't take this the wrong way, but why are we here?" Now was my chance. I had to say something. Something that would make him understand that I wanted to spend some time with him. Try and tell him how I felt. "Is this your way of apologizing for what happened with The Smoking Man?" he asked, before taking a sip of the red wine. "No, it's not. I wanted to -" "You don't need to apologize. I should be the one saying I'm sorry for the way I've treated you these past couple of days." The waiter came back to our table and we gave him our order. Mulder waited until he was gone and lowered his voice slightly. "I was just so worried about you, Scully. Going off alone with this man." he told me. "It was just too dangerous, no matter what he offers you." "Then I should say the same thing to you," I shot back at him. "As I recall, you've been guilty of the same thing many times." He nodded. "I know," he said, twirling the handle of the fork between his fingers. "I was just doing what I thought was right. There was a part of him that seemed sincere," I admitted to Mulder, then a bit more softly I said: "Or perhaps I just wanted to believe him." Mulder reached across the table and took my hand in his. "You weren't hurt. That's all that matters." He squeezed my fingers softly, almost lovingly. "You're safe." I needed to say something now. Show him how I feel. But in a restaurant filled with people? I looked into his eyes. "Mulder, I -" The waiter returned with our dinner and the moment was lost. Mulder dug into his pasta, apparently he was hungry, while I pushed mine around my plate, eating a few of the Penne-shaped pieces, trying to think of a way to steer the conversation to our feelings for each other. Why couldn't I do this? "Scully, are you going to finish that?" He pointed his fork at my plate. "No, go ahead, Mulder," I sighed, pouring myself a second glass of wine. I tried to steer the conversation back to us, but Mulder got onto another topic and then an upcoming case he wanted us to go investigate and I found myself sticking to a safe topic: work. It was so much easier discussing business with him. It didn't require me to extended myself emotionally and I fell back into that pattern quite easily. He ordered dessert and I followed suit, finding that a convenient way to avoid talking. I ate the slice of strawberry cheesecake slowly, feeling like I had failed at what I had set out to do. **** We drove back to his apartment in silence. It was late. I knew he had to be tired, not to mention full. When we got to his front door, he thanked me for dinner and added that it was way past his bedtime. That's right. Work. Our usual routine. I turned to walk down the hallway to the elevator, feeling defeated, but stopped. I vaguely remember him saying my name, but I had already reached for him, my purse and shawl falling onto the dirty hallway outside his front door. I felt his arms come around me, holding me tightly against his body, his hands eventually travelling up my back and shoulders. They felt good on my bare skin. "I need you," I whispered into his shoulder. "I need you, too," he answered. I pushed away from him, gazing into his eyes, even though it was hard for me. My heart was beating so fast I could hear it echo inside my ears. "Just because I value my independence, doesn't mean I don't need you," I told Mulder, then added a bit softer: "Even when I was with him, I hoped you would find me." He caressed my cheek with the palm of his hand. "I'll always find you," he said. "But -" I began, always trying to argue the opposite side. "Always, Scully," he stressed. "Never forget that." The tears that formed in my eyes were threatening to run down my cheeks. "I won't," I said softly. He bent down and kissed me gently on the lips. "I won't forget, Mulder." The taste of his lips still lingered on mine. I wouldn't forget the flavor for a long time. "It's time for you to get home, young lady." He picked up my purse and shawl from the ground, wrapping the latter around my shoulders loosely. I glanced down at my watch. Midnight. Actually, the stroke of midnight. A new day. A new start for both of us. A new beginning. "You're right, a new day." I smiled at him, something I hadn't done in awhile. I began to walk toward the elevator, when I heard him call out my name. I turned, only to see him smiling at me. "Is it too early to ask if we can do this again?" "No, it's not," I answered, coming closer to him. "But only on one condition." "What's that?" I asked, standing right in front of him now. "You wear that dress again," he replied. "I think that can be arranged," I told him. Maybe I can do this after all. **** END (1/1) Like what you read? 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