Disclaimer: Nope, these characters aren't mine. Category: VRA Classification: MSR Rating: R Spoilers: Orison Archive: Gossamer. Spookys. Others ask me. Feedback: Knock yourself out. Summary: Some things are better faced together. Thanks to: Robbie for her hard-assed beta. "Undercurrent" (1/1) by Lisa (haven599@msn.com) I just haven't had enough time. There's always something else more important to do. Those are just excuses. I've avoided my bathtub. In fact, I haven't even touched it, fearing an evil force will leap from its depths if I do. I had similar feelings after Pfaster attacked me the first time; however, it wasn't here in my apartment and I didn't end up killing him, either. Now I'm paralyzed by an irrational fear brought on by those exact circumstances. It doesn't look so menacing from out here in the hallway. Perhaps I should go in and take a look. My attention is drawn to the faucets. The same ones I could hear squeaking when Pfaster filled the tub up with water while I struggled to regain control of my apartment. "What are you doing over here?" Mulder asks me. His voice startles me and I jump back away from the door frame. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he tells me. His arms come around my waist. "I came to see what you want to do for dinner." "I . . . I want to take a bath," I reply. "This room . . ." "What do you want me to do?" he asks. "Take away the unpleasant memories." I'm only half kidding with that statement. "Let's try to replace them." He goes into the bathroom and begins to fill up the bathtub. I shudder at first, as the memories of the ordeal come flooding back. Mulder takes one of the bottles off the small table and I nod, indicating that it's the right one. He pours two capfuls into the water after reading the directions on back. The room begins to fill with the fragrant aroma, just like always, and I find myself smiling just a little. Here in the daylight with Mulder beside me, it's becoming easier and easier to push the ordeal behind me and focus on healing, emotionally and spiritually. He has been so understanding these past three weeks. We are much closer now, but the intimacy is still new to me. Back in November, during that terrible snowstorm that virtually shut down D.C. for forty-eight hours, we became lovers. It seemed so decadent to me staying in bed for two days, and leaving the real world behind. I watched the weather report, hoping that the snow wouldn't stop since its end signaled a returning to our lives as FBI agents, leaving the new lovers on hold for the meantime. I trail my fingers through the water, gauging its temperature. A little hot, but still comfortable enough to slowly slide into. I begin to unbutton my blouse, looking at Mulder. "Here, let me help you with that," he offers sincerely. "No, I can get it, really." I don't want him to help right now. He takes my hands in his and is quiet for a moment. "Scully, I wish you'd let me do this for you . . . I want to help." I can see the pain reflected in his eyes. He has suffered beside me these past couple of weeks. I don't mean to shut him out, but it's difficult to let go even after all that's changed. I take a deep breath and slowly nod to him. He slowly unfastens the remaining buttons of my blouse. After it is undone, he pulls my pants then pantyhose off my legs. I try not to look afraid, like I am ashamed to have him look at my body. That isn't the case. He slides the top off my shoulders. "Mulder, don't. Don't look at it." My voice is louder than I expected it to be. "Scully, what's -" He then realizes what I am referring to and I help him by pulling my arms through the sleeves. Mulder moves behind me. I close my eyes. "I didn't want you to see it. I didn't want to remind you of what *he* did to me." I am surprised to feel his lips on my back. I open my eyes abruptly. I expect him to say something scathing about Pfaster and how he failed to protect me from the man's abuse. "I can't really see the bruises," I start. "but they don't hurt anymore, so I . . . I guess they're almost healed by now." I'm not sure who I am trying to reassure more. I feel him undo the clasp on my bra and slide it off my shoulders, and it falls around my ankles. His hands roam over my back gently, alternating with his lips. I grip the edge of the bathtub, closing my eyes to the pleasure his mouth is giving me. This is becoming more like foreplay, and I know my face must be flushed by now. Mulder's lips move up to my neck, and I whimper his name, gripping The porcelain more tightly. After a few moments he finally speaks: "That was for every second of fear he caused you, every minute I wasn't there for you." He wraps his arms around my waist, pressing his lips against my hair. Tears come to my eyes, unbidden. "Mulder . . ." "Go ahead and take your bath; I'll start dinner." He leaves and a tear rolls down my cheek into the bubbles. With his words still echoing in my head, I climb into the tub. The water has grown colder and I turn the hot water tap on, remedying the situation, feeling the warmth slowly spreading over my body. Then I realize it. I am actually in the bathtub. I did it, with Mulder's help. His words and actions distracted me enough to step into what I've missed out on. I ignore my fear and sink deeper into the bubbles, letting the water wash over me as my mind drifts to other, more pleasant things. These last couple of months have been hectic with work and our new relationship. Add to that Pfaster's attack, which we not only are dealing with as professionals but also as a couple. I know Mulder still harbors much guilt and probably will for a long time. I've had my own inner struggle with my faith along with emotional repercussions to work through and I'm not nearly finished. It gets easier everyday, though, and I have relied on Mulder much more to get through it. I awaken from nightmares, and he is right there next to me offering comfort. He is still working on his top ten list of ways to torture Donnie Pfaster and rambles on about that until I would fall back to sleep. I think he's up to number four. We haven't made love since a couple of days before Pfaster's prison break. I know he's waiting for me to initiate it. Part of it is because of the injuries I incurred and the other part is I've needed comfort and not sex these past weeks. But judging by what just happened a few minutes ago, I believe it's almost time. I remember what Mulder said to me after I shot Pfaster. I was trembling from having just discharged my weapon, as well as startled that I shot him so quickly. While we were waiting for the police to arrive, Mulder comforted me and just when the sirens were growing louder he asked if I was ready. I believe he was asking if I was ready for the questions and coming invasion of my apartment, our safe haven from the world. I nodded and hugged him quickly while he told me we'd have time later to be together. Speaking of time, I'm becoming cold soaking in this fragrant water of rapidly depleting bubbles. I think it's time to put this behind us and resume our new relationship. I need to show him how much he means to me. I pull a towel from the bar beside me and quickly dry off as a wonderful smell drifts in from the kitchen. I grab my robe from the back of the door and head down the hallway to see what this wonderful man has taken the time to make for me. **** END (1/1) Like what you read? Come to Lisa's Haven: http://shannono.simplenet.com/haven/