Title: Just Run Author: Geekery15 Rating: PG.13 Summary: Can Scully run away from the mistakes that she's made? Note: This story takes place between season 4/5 even though it features Doggett. There's already too many fan-fictions dealing with his presence in season 8/9. Come on, Doggett's got a past. What if it ever collided with Scully and Mulder's long before he ever took over The X-Files? No harm in that. Also I never wrote a fic with Doggett before and it's been a long, long time…most likely six/six and a half years since I've written any MSR. Archive: Sure, if you ask me first. Feedback: Why not? Romantic Hero Challenge 2008-a love triangle between Scully/Mulder/Doggett (Created by Krystal) PS: I lack a beta so if there are any errors, deal with it. Just Run This was such a whore-like thing to do, but I could not stop it. The only thing I could manage to do was gather my belongings and leave the warm, used bed that had rocked me to sleep the night before. Well, it was one of the two things that had rocked me to sleep. If he knew what I was doing during my alone time he would never trust me again. He would never look at me the same way again. He would never forgive me. He would never let me live it down. He would never speak to me again. He would never admit his disgust, though. He never would go that far. He never did go that far. Love makes you do crazy things, but when two seperate people are pulling at the only 'you' there is, things shift from crazy to unbearable. Sometimes I find myself mixing up our luncheons, our night-ins, and our cases. He needs to be there, he needs to be here, and I…need to be there and here and elsewhere. One individual knew. Shouldn't I feel proud of myself for being truthful? Half-truthful. Still, shouldn't I be? He was understanding. He knew how obnoxious and possessive my other half could be at times. He knew that my other half lacked the ability to communicate with regular people on a regular daily basis. He actually felt sorry for him. For his lack of communication skills and his lack of friendly ability. I should have stepped in to support the man who was there when I awoke in a hospital bed after my abduction about two and a half years ago, but I never could disagree whole- heartedly and if I even tried it, he would sense that I was lying. I should not feel as if I should be grateful for his presence. If I shoved him out of my life the first time I met him I would not have been abducted in the first place. Is it entirely his fault? Well the Earth-half is. Whatever took place out there in what some like to call 'Outer Space' had nothing to do with him. Lucky him. He infatuated me when I first met him. Those bulky glasses, that mused hair, the gleam in his eye, that strange aspect of his personality. I thought he was this brilliant man who sheltered himself in the dingy pits of the Federal building and for a long while I assumed as much. Then his neediness came into play. His arrogance lashed out at me. He paranoia got on my nerves. His 'ditching' tendencies started to grind against my last nerve. How we ever decided on a romantic relationship is completely beyond me. If he wasn't such an alluring individual in his own little special way then maybe I could have refused his invitation. Lucky me. Nothing was ever never enough for him. Whatever I wanted , he gave it to me without any question. Whatever I needed, he knew without me saying a single word to him. But he had his dark moments. When cases would gnaw at his nerves, he would shut me out of his thoughts. He would shut me out of his life. He would shut me out of his embrace. No matter how much I tried or how hard I tried to be there for him as he were for me, he never accepted it. When he was in the zone, it was him and himself. No one else was allowed. It was the most selfish thing that he would do. Repeatedly. I rather be a so-called 'Ice Queen' than a coward, but being one was so easy. I ran around like the biggest government secret was between my sheets and I was the one that had put it there. Of course I had a some help from my significant others, but it was my problem, not theirs. This was what the Jerry Springer show was for. Maury being the runner up. Montell being the last resort. I was a slave to my own slave labor and at the end of the day I was feeble. Unable to respect myself and those around me. Seven in the morning just had to sneak up on me like one of my lovers liked to do, didn't it? Rolling out of bed earlier this morning was no easy trip. Not only did the friction against the bed springs cause my back to react in ways it never had, but my other lover had to phone me out of the blue because it was something he always liked to do. 'Scully, there were aliens!' His monotone lulled me to sleep and he was left with me snoring my head off. The big freak probably did not even mind one little, itty-bitty bit. He loved me after all. So when I spotted him looking freakishly pink for Monday morning, I wondered just exactly what had happened to him. "Is everything okay Mulder?" "Fine." He was kind of curt with his response, but it was a Monday morning. Who the hell wanted to be this friendly on this day at such a time in the tiresome early morning. Even if they were getting paid for it. "We on a new case?" "Not at the moment." "Meetings with Skinner?" "No." Either he was giving me a much needed break from his ranting and raving sessions or something was utterly wrong with him. "Are you sure that everything is okay?" "Fine, Scully." He assured me. I found a chair I liked to call my own and took a much needed seat. My back ached from the previous nights activities, but complaining about them now would produce a look of bewilderment in his features. One thing to never do was to try and spook Spooky Mulder. He'd get to the bottom of whatever it was as soon as he possibly could. "Your mother called me this morning." "My mother?" "Yes. Your mother." He paused with a slight shine to his two, dark eyes. "She's invited us over for Sunday dinner." "That's a week away." "She likes to plan." "Don't I know it." I grunted then and wished I hadn't. "You want to go?" "Of course." He stopped reading whatever it was he was reading. "Don't you?" "Sure…I mean…" I shrugged as I tried to find my enthusiasm. "I guess." "You guess? It's your mother, Scully." I agreed with him then as I forced myself to smile at him. Leave it to my mother to be the only woman besides myself who ever gave him the honest time of day. Sometimes I wondered if it were her who had fallen for him first. And as if he didn't take to her constant need to praise the son she never had and one she most likely never would. Lack of family life within his own family made him yearn for and accept the affection that my own family had to offer. Except for Bill. The only thing Bill wanted to offer my kooky partner and my trusty little lover was a plot-plan for the cemetery over yonder. "Scully?" I snapped out of my thoughts and finally noticed him for the first time that morning. I really, honestly noticed him. "What?" The attitude apparent in my tone of voice. "Coffee?" "No." I made a 'bleh' face and he shrugged. "Perhaps a light cream cheese bagel would do me some good." "Sure." And he went off on his happy little way to retrieve something he could give to his one and only. The way I let him proceed with this undying devotion is completely sick and twisted. I'm using him for a light cream cheese bagel at seven-something in the morning and other domestic errands during the remainder of the week. It's unacceptable. And so is denying my true feelings. I really need to quit the obvious lies that he's obviously not picking up one before it becomes an unstoppable habit. The third night in a row I gave him some bullshit story that prevented him from dropping by my apartment or me dropping by his. That meant no company for him and plenty for me. All is not fair. I guess a part of me blames him for my apparent state of misery. If it weren't for him I wouldn't have had some chip put in my neck and cancer nipping at my insides as I wilted away with the passing days. My body had become weaker, but I fought off the voices that begged me to surrender to their internal army. I needed to be strong. I needed to be brave. For the both of us. He would give his life for my well-being. Pathetic. He was pathetic. Only a one-sided idiot would make such an offer for something he most likely let happen. I had no right being bitter over assumptions, but these assumptions were in the back of my mind for so long that it started to become my gut instinct. Not to mention my rugged 'Mr. Fix It' supported my idea. It was a nice change to exchange actual procedure with another human being. One as compassionate and level-headed as John. It was more than his military stance, that memorable tattoo on his left arm, and his boyish love for chocolate pop-tarts. It was his demand for a unified and accurate order of operation. He was organized, husbandly, and dutiful in a completely non-obsessive way. He let me breathe my own breath of fresh air without questioning me like it was his burning desire to know every little thing. He let me have the last word because it was my own word. He never once ditched me. The term 'partners' to him meant exactly what it was created for. His definition was straight out of any universal dictionary and/or textbook. He followed the rules that had already been written and though some might insist it be such an agonizing quality in a human being, I found it comforting. He would never change into someone or something that was undefined. He was a straight-forward, no-bullshit, accurate individual. Mulder could seriously learn a thing or two from him. My body was next to his, but my mind was back to comparing the two secrets that met time after time inside my own bed without even meeting the other. To be correct, they had met each other before. The two never did quite hit it off, but they both left each other's presence at the end of the case with much deserved respect. I left with two lovers. Lucky me. I never intended to open myself up, in more ways that one would think, our first night on the case. Suddenly the world seemed like it was throwing daggers at me, Mulder was complaining about whatever it was he always seemed to complain about, and I felt as if I needed to break free and decide on something for myself, by myself. It was difficult at first to lie directly to his face and flee his hotel room, but when I reached my much needed destination nothing seemed difficult anymore. Nothing seemed like anything anymore. In all fairness Mulder and I were not an item. We were still the overly-friendly partners we has been since our face day together. But it still hurt a bit, deep down inside the following morning when I realized that through the previous nights events I was mixing my pleasure with pain by thinking bitterly about my partner. Again. It was my abduction. It was that chip in my neck. It was the cancer I had no idea would start to gnaw at me. Everything that was wrong with the world and wrong with my life was his fault and since he would never fight me about things like that, it was easy to throw all of my misfortunes on him. It was so fucking easy. The giddy son of a bitch was so excited to see me looking in better spirits the following morning he practically squealed. It was a sick reaction to someone I had such deep, yet mixed feelings for, but I was at fault for letting him become that way. At first he showed resistance, but now he held me at the top of the pyramid like I was the only thing that ever really mattered to him and the reason for his life. It was flattering. It still is. It always will be. Sometimes I catch a few of the interns checking him out while he's so oblivious to their drool-fest. Sometimes I'd like to go up to a group of them with his hand in mine and ask them if they'd like to take him for a walk around the block for a good hour. Pawning him off like that would have its price and it really would be an act of meanness. Lucky for him I have a heart and I'm willing to do everything and anything to keep his heart free of additional pain. Like hell I would tell him about my constant encounters with Detective John Doggett. Some women would love to see their men cry for them and over them. He would do that. He would lash out at me like some emotional wreck and make my heart crack in millions of little pieces. Not to sound like some heart-less soul, but he seriously could save that reenactment of 'tough love' at a seating of Doctor Phil. I lacked the time. It's all in some warped interpretation of being 'fair', isn't it? He ditches me so and I'm some-what bitter towards his feelings. Payback's a bitch they say and he'll feel it harder than I ever will. I've got such an advantage over him. If my own mother new of my un-trusting and scheming ways she would have lectured me like my high school and college days. Long before I ever thought of doing such a thing to another human being. Long before I ever knew a man like Mulder walked the same planet I did. Long before I met Mulder. My father's passing took a piece of myself with it. I was his Starbuck and nothing, not even my mother, could come between that. And again. Why him? Why wasn't I around as much as I should be? Mulder. His work demanded my every waking moment. His needs demanded my every waking attention. It was always me and instead of splitting the time equally between work and my family. I split it between working Mulder and personal Mulder. He had my undivided, yet divided attention. Family life did not stick out to him. Family life did not matter to him. Family life was nothing to him because he said goodbye to his own years and years before. Good for him, but what about what me? Sometimes I wonder if my father ever forgave me for keeping myself away for so long. John knew about family. He knew what it was like to say goodbye to his one and only child. He knew pain that Mulder never experienced. In all fairness, again, he never knew what it was like to feel pain that Mulder had experienced. John knew about marriage. He knew about devotion. He knew about trying and about working. Working hard to keep two people together. Of course I only know his side of the story when it comes to his divorce, but he did it in such an endearing way by the way he spoke highly of his ex-wife that there was no need for me to doubt his take on the whole ordeal. Just like that, I believed him. I needed no scientific explanation. I needed no written proof. I needed no documented documentaries. I just believed him. Believing another person without a second-second thought would make my spooky lover hit the roof. Believing another man without a second-second thought would make my spooky lover crazy. But he doesn't suspect a thing. He doesn't know a damn thing. And instead of feeling sly and sophisticated, I feel wrong and misunderstood. So instead of being the truthful person I know that I can be, I'll play it cool. I'll keep it on the low. I'll avoid confrontation. But no good ever really comes from a love triangle. I'm not sure why I figured any different. Until now. Someone's going to wind up with a broken heart pretty soon, but for now I'll just run. End.