TITLE: No Armor Against Fate AUTHOR: Foxhunt2blue SUMMARY: In grief we seek comfort in anyway we can at the moment. This story was originally written for the March 2001 challenge for the Church of X. A Scully/Doggett romance/encounter for "TINH" RATING: R for Adult situations DISCLAIMER: Yes...say it with me...they do not belong to me they belong to that guy at 10-13 who works for Fox! E-MAIL: foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com CATEGORY: Sc/D Angst & other things *snicker SPOILERS: "TINH" AUTHOR'S NOTES: I had never written anything with John Doggett when I wrote this for Church of X. Though I love Mulder and cried buckets at the end of "TINH" I also realize from experience grief can cause people to react unlike themselves. I did re-write this updating it to reflect details that were later relieved about Doggett in later eps. Re-written November 24, 2002 This is for you Donna lover of all things Doggett! :) There is no armor against fate; Death lays his icy hand on kings. --James Shirley, The Contention of Ajax & Ulysses From the moment I had laid eyes on the scene I knew her heart couldn't take what awaited her in that cold, dark field. Even though I had argued with A.D. Skinner his insistance that he should be the one to tell her won out. I could see the reluctance in his eyes, hear it in his words. It was for that reason I felt I owed her a courtesy...as both partner and friend. I felt I had to protect her at all cost. So when our eyes met in that dark field all I had to say was her name. Strange how much can be communicated in one simple word. I never had a chance of stopping her. Tiny as she was she still managed to avoid both my arms and Skinner's as we fought to keep her from seeing what no woman should ever have to see... ...their lover dead. I know that she would deny it, but I've been around the block a few times and you don't get as far as I did without learning to read people. People fear the truth as a general rule, but not Agent Dana Scully. The way she knelt in the wet earth next to his lifeless body, her fingers skimming the pulse point on his throat, just verified my suspicions. My own heart was beginning to fracture as I watched her caress his cold flesh, whispering soft words of reassurance that only she could hear. Then she was on her feet, tearing through the brush screaming about someone named Jerimiah, about how he could save Mulder. I ran as far as the edge of the clearing trying to make her under- stand that no one could help him now...he was gone...it was to late. "Agent Doggett...John...leave her be she needs time." When I turned on Skinner it was with a rage I had rarely felt in my life. "Fuck you sir! She's my partner...she needs me whether she knows it or not!" I left him standing there his mouth set in a grim line, not giving a damn if I had a job in the morning or not. Turning I ran after her, hoping to God that she wouldn't do anything stupid considering the situation. By the time I had crested the hill it was over. Whatever twist of fate had occured I wouldn't know of until weeks later. Around me the last of Absalom's followers stumbled about in the shadowed interior of the house. They sought each other out for comfort as I pushed my way past them. When I reached the back room, where moments ago Scully had been interrogating a suspect, I found her kneeling on the floor. Her small frame swayed to the rythmn of her denial as I knelt next to her. Her once brilliant sapphire eyes now a flat blue-gray focused on a point somewhere on the wall in front of her as she continued to chant the same words over and over. "Thisisnothappeningthisisnothappeningthisis.....," her voice was as flat as the color of her eyes. "Agent Scully? Dana?" At the sound of my voice she turned her head, staring at me with glassy eyes. "Mulder? Is that you Mulder?" Tears filled my throat until I could barely breath, her face swimming in my line of vision. "Yeah...Scully it's me..," I heard the words before I realized I had spoken them. Maybe I'll never know what caused me to answer her like that. All I do know is that I would have done anything to protect her at that moment. A flash of Mulder's cold, abused body filled my mind causing me to curse the bastards who had done this...who ever they might be. I was startled from my thoughts by her arms wrapping around my neck. She snuggled her face into my chest sighing. "Thank god Mulder they told me you were dead...I knew they were ly..lying. You would never leave me...would you?" "No..," I choked out as her face burrowed deeper into my shirt front. Standing I lifted her into my arms, carrying her through the lost souls who belonged to this place. Dana Scully wasn't one of them and I couldn't allow her to become one. Their eyes were haunted by death, by fear and a truth they had all sought. A truth Mulder had sought and look where it had lead him. Death. As I left that place of nightmares time seemed to slow, my senses clouded by a mist that enveloped only Scully and I. None of their condolences or questions penetrated that place where my only mission was to protect my partner. A partner who had fought me each step of the way only now to be huddled in my arms. Wrapping her in my coat I slipped her into the passenger seat of the rented Ford, then headed back to the hotel. As I drove I wondered if she could understand that she wasn't the only one to whom fate had been so cruel. Once I had been happy. A beautiful wife, a promising career and a handsome son. What more could a man want? Then he was gone, my house of glass shattered. Bringing in Monica had been a mistake on my part. Seeing her again just tore open wounds I had thought were healed. Swooping into a parking spot I lifted Scully from her resting spot and carried her to her hotel room. When I finally managed to get the door open I laid her gently on the bed. Slowly I removed my coat, her shoes, then pulled the sheets back over her. Through- out the entire process she never woke nor did she utter a sound. God she was beautiful. She reminded me of my wife in some ways, but she was so much stronger. Or had it been me that was weak? Barbara had been a good woman don't get me wrong. I loved her more than I had imagined I was capable of. Turning away from her I headed back to my own room for a private moment to grieve those memories that had flared to life. "John..don't go..please?" Her voice was so faint at first I almost didn't believe the words. "John I don't want to be alone...I don't know if I can trust myself." Turning I met her eyes, glistening with loss. Somewhere inside there was a part of me in shock. One... she had never called me John like this. Two... Agent Scully was admitting she was broken. She was saying she needed me. "Agent Scully you need to rest..," I whispered turning back to the door. "I loved him John." Her statement brought me back to face her, to witness the depth of her grief. Perhaps I had been wrong. Maybe they hadn't been lovers because behind those liquid eyes I also saw regret. "I don't think you need me Agent Scul..." "Dana...my name is Dana. Please John stay." I nervously closed the door at her emotional plea. "I can't believe he's dead...I just want to scream...I just..." "...want to end it?" I finished. When I met her eyes I was greeted by shock. Could she, for just a moment, truly believe that I wouldn't understand? I was sure she had read my file...knew about my son...my wife. "Scully...I..." "Please John call me Dana...Scully was what...what he called me." In awe I watched as the grief I had glimpsed for a split second deepened the color of her eyes until I found myself drowning in her gaze. Crossing the room I sat on the end of the bed, my own gaze never drifting from her. "Why couldn't you trust me...Dana?" Her name seemed foreign on my tongue. "I've learned not to...he taught me that." Watching from the corner of my eye I saw her work at her lip, caught between perfect white teeth. A perfect mouth that I had never witnessed smile, but I know he had. I wondered what her laughter would sound like and suddenly I realized just how jealous I was of Agent Fox Mulder. Had he known how precious a gift fate had handed him? "Were you...," I let my words trail off, unable to ask such an intimate question. "Lovers?" she whispered. "Yeah," shifting on the mattress I tried to meet her eyes. Tried to see the truth in those swirling depths. "Not like everyone thought...not in the traditional sense of the word. We were so much more than just...I can't explain it John...we were more than what lovers are...more than physical." Standing I edged around the bed, then settled next to her in a space between us that seemed to shrink with each word spoken. We sat there silently lost in our memories, grieving our own secrets. Silently she rose, walking across the room to the window. Shadowed by the drapes, the milky streetlight giving her a ethereal glow. From the moment I had met her I was both drawn and repelled by her. She was the complete opposite of everything that I had thought. Intelligent, strong, beautiful, but not in the way Hollywood often portrayed. My eyes took in everything that was Dana Scully. Smooth flawless skin the color of pure cream. Soft silken hair that reminded me of a summer sunrise. And those eyes. Chips of sapphire that had never looked at me with trust. Just cold and distant. Even now in her grief she stood, back straight, shoulders bearing the weight of a loss, that I knew from experience, was heavier than the earth itself. "I saw him here last night." "What?" Shook from my reverie I once more met those eyes, but this time there was a soft warmth in them. A warmth I had never seen before. "Who?" "Mulder...," she whispered. "He was standing right here..as solid as me or you. I should have known then that he was...," her voice quavered for a moment, then she cleared her throat. "Do you believe in fate Dana?" I was wondering if I truly knew where this was leading. "Fate? I guess I do," she wrapped her arms around her chest turning back to the window. "I sometimes think that he and I were fated to meet." Before I could stop myself I was up on shaking legs and across the room. Hesistantly I wrapped my arms around her body drawning her against me. There was no resistance as I rested my head on her shoulder feeling her grief wash over us both..a wave of heated emotion. Without thought I turned her in my arms, our eyes meeting once more. Then I was kissing her. Years of suppressed grief channeled in that one action. An action that was the final step over a line I had drawn long ago. Drawing back I waited for the feel of her slapping my face, her anger washing out in a wave of justified profanity. Her anger never came. Opening my eyes I looked down into tear rimmed darkness. Her hand was tiny and gentle as she stroked my jaw with wonder. God, please don't let this be a dream, I thought, as at the same time the voice of reason whispered softly...this is not happening. She drew me close, her lips meeting mine. Gently at first then more urgently...insistently until I allowed her access. She tasted of winter- green and thick black coffee with just a hint of sweetness that reminded me of honey. Pulling back I tried to turn away...this wasn't right. She was grieving for a man who's body was barely cold. How could I allow this to happen when I knew she was out of her mind with the pain of loss? "John..," her voice was thick with desire as her hand ran down my arm. "Stay with me John...just tonight. I don't want to be alone..not here..not now." "Dana...you're not yourself..this isn't right your grieving..." "...and so are you John..let her go for one night." A lump rose in my throat at her words. She was right. Even after all these years I still hadn't grieved for my losses properly. Some- where in my mind I had believed Barbara would return. Tears began to well in my eyes as her fingers entertwined with mine and she led me to the bed. "We need to forget John...we both need a moment of comfort." Slowly she pushed my jacket off my shoulders, then her fingers gently unknotted my tie letting it flutter to the floor where it was joined by my shirt. Our lips joined once more as her hands moved up beneath the tee- shirt I wore kneeding the muscles in my back. She stepped back just long enough to strip off her jacket then tug her shirt over her head. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her small firm breasts, ivory against the black lace of her bra. She was perfect. Kneeling I reached for the waist of her slacks stripping them from her along with her shoes and stockings. I traced the barely noticeable swell of her belly laying my cheek against the warmth of bare skin. "You won't hurt the baby...," she whispered, fingers carding through my short dark hair. "I know..., but I need to know...is it," "His? I'm not sure...we never had sex..though we...why do you think I'm so worried?" "Sshhh...," I pressed a finger to her lips. Standing I lifted her in my arms and laid her on the bed. Stripping off my slacks, shoes and socks I slid into the bed next to her. We didn't speak again. Our bodies joined with little effort in a rythmn that was both gentle and primative. The feel of her beneath me warm...real. It had been to long, I thought, to long since I had felt a woman in my arms. Her arms encircled me, fingers digging into my back as I moved into her. Her tears mixed with mine as we moved in a dance as old as creation itself. Her grief, her desire, her anger all joining to engulf me just as my own emotions spilled forth. A wave of pain I hadn't realized was buried deep in me. Afterwards we lay in each others arms panting softly. As the first light of dawn began to filter through the drapes I slipped from the bed reluctantly. I dressed as quietly as possible, then entered the bathroom to wash my face. Leaning against the sink I finally took in my reflection shaking my head. You're an old fool John, I thought, running damp fingers through my hair. Back in the bedroom I stood over her, watching as she slept. I knew we would never mention this that it had been nothing more than a comfort we both neeeded. Grabbing my coat from the chair I slipped to the door, as I reached for the knob I turned back, the tiny hairs on my neck prickling. For just a moment I could have sworn I saw him. Leaning over her still sleeping form, his lips brushing her tousled hair. Then our eyes met across the room and he faded into the shadows. Shaking my head I turned back into the warmth of the early morning sunshine shutting the door behind me. Mulder was gone. He couldn't have been there, death is the final stop for all of us. There is no armor against fate I told myself as I walked away. THE END Trapped in time. Surrounded by evil. Low on gas. ---Army of Darkness 1992 http://www.geocities.com/rose_liz2001/Dark_Fantasies.html http://groups.yahoo.com/group/FAN-FICTION-UTOPIA/join