Title: One ring

Author: Larilyn

E-mail: Larilyn1@hotmail.com

Archive: Anywhere, as long as you let me know where to visit

Disclaimer: Uh, hello, they're so not mine.

Rating: PG

Classification: SA

Spoilers: TINH

Keywords: Doggettfic, D/S UST

Summary: Scully turns to her partner for comfort. 
Post ep for This Is Not Happening 

Visit my website at www.geocities.com/larilyn1975

 

 

One Ring

She was huddled on the floor of the cabin. Curled into a ball, her knees 
drawn up to her chest, her arms wrapped around her legs, sobbing. Doggett 
took her into his arms.

"No." She sobbed. "This is not happening."

Then she suddenly stopped crying, took a deep breath and said firmly, "No." 
She stood suddenly. Springing up like an over wound coil. She wrenched 
herself from Doggett's grip as AD Skinner and Agent Reyes stood by watching 
the scene, helplessly. 

"Agent Scully." Doggett grabbed her arm to stop her from racing out the door, 
back to the side of her fallen partner. 

"No." she said firmly, twisting herself from his grasp. "No, I have to save 
him."

He grabbed both of her arms this time, forcing her to face him. "Agent 
Scully, Mulder's gone." He pulled her to him to take her into his arms.

"No." this one was an anguished cry. Then she became angry. Her fists beat 
against Doggett's chest. "I can save him. I can save him. I can…"

She collapsed into tears and clung to Doggett. He placed his hand at the back 
of her head and pulled her tighter toward his chest. "Let it out, Agent 
Scully. Let it out."

He felt her tears soaking his shirt. He held her so tightly that her sobs 
shook both of their bodies.

Doggett recalled the other time he'd held her like this. In the hospital room 
with Gibson Praise looking on like AD Skinner and Agent Reyes were now. 
Gibson didn't question his ability to care for Agent Scully but he could feel 
Skinner's eyes on him now. Questioning whether he could handle Scully's 
grief. Wondering if he deserved to. 

Doggett scooped her legs up and carried her like a baby out of the cabin. As 
he passed Skinner and Reyes he explained unnecessarily, "I'm taking her out 
of here."

"Mulder." She choked. "I have to stay with Mulder."

"No Agent Scully," he consoled. "You've done all you can do. I'm taking you 
to the hotel."

**

Scully awoke with a start. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe they hadn't found 
Mulder dead. Maybe Jeremiah Smith hadn't been taken away before he could 
help.

She touched her face and knew it wasn't a dream. She could feel the dried 
salty tears streaking her face. She could feel the cold pillow dampened by 
hysterical tears. She could smell the presence of her partner. Not her 
beloved Mulder but…

"Agent Scully? You okay?"

His voice was nearly a whisper but it still seemed as loud as thunder. 
Doggett's rumbling tenor had filled the room and pulled Scully back to 
horrible reality. She remembered it all. Doggett trying to keep her from 
Mulder. Mulder's face: cold, lifeless, tortured, devoid of the light and 
humor she loved so much. She remembered racing to Jeremiah Smith, her only 
hope, only to see it whisked away from her. She remembered Doggett's embrace 
and how he carried her because she was no longer capable of supporting her 
own weight.

He had brought her here. Removed her jacket and shoes and tucked her into 
bed. He had stayed in that chair until she awoke, never leaving her. 

She clenched the soft cotton blanket that covered her into her fist and let 
the same easy lie she always used slip out of her lips, "I'm fine, Agent 
Doggett."

The mattress dropped under his weight as he sat on the edge of the bed. She 
could feel him behind her. She pictured his roughened hand suspended over her 
shoulder, hesitating before it descended upon her. His warmth a strong 
contrast to the coolness of her tear soaked pillow that supported her cheek.

The contact was a response to her lie. It was his way of saying, 'You're not 
fine.' And she knew it. She turned to face him. His face was awash with 
concern and affection. Scully bit her lower lip to keep it from quivering, as 
if that would stop the fresh onslaught of tears. She dropped her eyes from 
his usually rough-hewn face, now softened with compassion. His thumb grazed 
her face, washing away the lone tear that had escaped.

That one touch did her in and fresh tears flowed freely. Once again he pulled 
her in tight. She pressed her cheek against his solid chest and wrapped her 
arms around him. Soon, his shirt was as wet with tears as her pillow but his 
warmth comforted her in a way the cold pillowcase could not. As she drifted 
off she felt his voice rise out of him and rumble against her. 

"I got ya, Agent Scully."

**

Scully's hand was shaking. That was it. The only sign that anything was 
wrong, the only sign that her strength was melting away was a shaking hand. 
Doggett watched in silence as her small, milky white hand struggled to steady 
itself enough to insert her key into the lock. He reached out and stopped her 
attempts by taking her hand in his and gently removing the keys from her 
grip. He watched her as he inserted in the lock and turned the key. The click 
of the tumblers as they fell into place echoed through the silence of the 
deserted hallway.

Scully's hair fell across her face like a curtain as she stared at the floor, 
shielding her from her embarrassment. He knew that she didn't want to need 
him. He knew that she would never admit to needing him, and if he asked, she 
was fine. So, he didn't ask.

He opened the door for her and she forged ahead into her apartment. Without a 
word she purposefully walked away from him, taking her bags into her bedroom, 
leaving Doggett alone at the door. 

The smell of wilting flowers assaulted his senses. They were sitting on her 
coffee table. Probably fresh before they had left for Montana. Now the 
flowers were drooping from a lack of water. Seven red rose petals, now black 
with death, had fallen onto the table.

Scully emerged from the bedroom and dropped her suit jacket onto the couch. 
John saw a wilted flower dropping another petal. 

"Thank you, for driving me home, Agent Doggett." Her voice had a strange 
quality to it. Forced strength from a wilted flower.

"No problem, Agent Scully. You want me to hang around.."

"That won't be necessary, Agent Doggett."

"a while?"

Another rose petal crashed to the tabletop.

"Well, if you need anything…"

"Of course"

"you know my number."

"Thank you, Agent Doggett."

Doggett hesitantly backed out the door and eased it shut behind him.

Scully marched over to the coffee table and picked up the vase. She threw the 
wilted flowers away and placed the empty vase in the sink. She left the 
petals where they had fallen.

**

Doggett sat on his couch staring at the open but untouched bottle of beer in 
his hand. He sat there, hating himself.

He hated himself for leaving her there. It was ridiculous, beating himself up 
over leaving her in her own home. She had made it clear that she wanted to be 
alone, that she didn't want him or need him there. He respected her wishes 
but still…

He wished they were still in that damned hotel in Montana. He hated himself 
for that too. But there it was.

He had enjoyed it there. That one night haunted him, because a part of him 
had reveled in it. Not finding Mulder dead, not watching Scully drown in her 
anguish. That had been hell. Pure hell. That wasn't it.

He had enjoyed that Scully let him comfort her. He enjoyed her needing him. 
Holding him. Waking up in his arms. He enjoyed it. And he hated himself for 
it.

The phone rang, shattering the silence and interrupting his assault upon his 
own moral character. He rose to answer it but it had stopped after one ring. 
Just one ring. Scully. It had to be. 

He could almost picture her reaching out for help, then letting pride pull 
her back. It would be just like her. Pride be damned, she wasn't going to go 
through this alone. Not while he still had breath in his body. He knew her 
pain. He understood it. And he would help her through it. Whether she would 
admit it or not, she needed him.

He traded the beer bottle for his car keys and went to her.

**

Scully stared down at the phone in her hand. 'Dial it,' she thought to 
herself. She had tried to dial once and had hung up after only one ring. 
Maybe she should call her Mom back, take her up on her offer.

Their conversation still rang in her ears.

"Dana, I'm coming down."

"No, Mom, really I'm ok. I just want to be alone."

"I don't think you should be alone."

"Mom…" 

She had pleaded with her mom in the same voice she used as a teenager when 
her mother had reminded her not to drive to fast, not to smoke, not to miss 
her curfew.

In the end, her mom had relented and Dana was left alone.

Then, it started to rain and suddenly, she didn't want to be alone. Something 
about the rain was too melancholy. It was too much sadness for her to handle 
on her own. It wasn't the comfort of her mother she wanted. She almost called 
Skinner, but decided to leave him to his own grief instead of burdening him 
with hers. Without thinking she had dialed the number. Her fingers flew over 
the buttons instinctively. The phone rang once and without warning her body 
tensed with panic. She slammed the phone down into the cradle.

Now she sat there, holding the means to summon comfort, too proud to make the 
call. 

She knew he would come running. It was part of his character, like the "just 
the facts ma'am" nonsense that irritated the hell out of her. Unexpected 
smiles graced her lovely face as she pictured him as Joe Friday, and then as 
a white knight rescuing her, the damsel in distress.

A giggle escaped her lips, then a sob. Was she really reduced to being a 
damsel in distress? The memory of his arms cradling her shaken frame engulfed 
her and she realized that at this moment she truly was.

"My God, Mulder," she whispered to no one, "look at what you've reduced me 
to."

An abrupt pounding on her door caused her to jump nearly out of her skin. She 
finally released the death grip on the telephone receiver and rose. She wiped 
the errant tears away from her cheeks and tucked her hair behind her ears. 
She smoothed her hair with her palms and took a deep breath as she opened the 
door.

He was standing there, drenched from the downpour. 

"Agent Doggett?"

He reached for her. She dropped her eyes but she could feel his steady gaze 
search her and she could feel warm pressure where his hands were gripping her 
upper arms. His voice was as warm as his hands when he asked, "Are you ok?"

"Yes. I'm fine," she lied. It was a transparent lie and she knew that if she 
met his eyes she would fall apart, so she stared intently at the dirty 
hallway carpet.

Her left arm felt the cold absence of his hand before her chin felt it tip 
her head up, forcing her to look into his eyes. She was undone. Her bottom 
lip began to tremble and she caught in with her teeth. Unwelcome tears 
slipped away from her blue eyes. Doggett pulled her in close once again. In 
the safety of his embrace she let completely go. She cried her heart out in 
the dirty hallway, safe in the arms of her white knight. 

**

Doggett woke to the warmth of Scully pressed against his side. Her delicate 
hand rested gently on his chest. He reveled in the smell of her. It was 
everywhere, in the air, in her bed and in the silken tresses of her hair. He 
debated on whether to extricate himself from her side, weighing her possible 
embarrassment against the thought that she had been abandoned. She sighed and 
turned over releasing him from his dilemma. 

The previous night came back in flashes. They had sat on the couch while 
Scully told him about her friendship with Mulder. She had alternated between 
laughter and tears as she told him about their adventure hunting Big Blue and 
their undercover assignment as a married couple. She told stories all night 
long.

"Did you know he taught me to play baseball?"

"Huh uh."

"He did. It was a birthday present. Sort of."

Doggett rose from the bed and left Scully to her slumber. He brewed a pot of 
coffee and watched as it dripped into the carafe, steam rising in little 
swirls around the kitchen. Another event of that evening came to him.

"Agent Scully, you awake?" When no response came forth he carried her to her 
bed. As he turned to leave, she asked him in a sleep induced slur, "No, 
please stay."

So he had. He climbed into bed with her and she curled herself around him. He 
had only hoped that she felt safe there.

"Smells good." 

Doggett tore his gaze away from the coffeepot and his mind away from his 
memories. She was standing there, wrapped in a red terry cloth robe her arms 
folded across her chest. 

"G'morning Agent Scully. Howdja sleep?"

She gave him a small smile and stared down at her feet. "Fine, thank you, 
Agent Doggett."

"Coffee's ready. You hungry?"

"Yeah, I can make some pancakes."

"No, I got it. You sit." 

Scully slumped into a chair and propped her head in her hands with her elbows 
resting on the table. Doggett poured her a cup of coffee. "Milk? Sugar?"

"Milk, please."

**

Scully stirred her coffee in a figure eight as she watched her partner fumble 
around the kitchen, making her breakfast. Her embarrassment over the previous 
evening was slowly fading away. Gradually, the idea of Doggett sharing her 
bed became easier to rationalize. She had needed someone to be there. Without 
her having to ask, he was there. He'd been like that since the beginning. 
There. Even when she didn't want it or expect it, there he was. She had 
stopped thanking him for being there a long time ago. She didn't need to 
thank him, he'd say. He was just doing his job. Watching her back. 

She was exhausted, and surprisingly hungry. Probably the baby's fault that 
she was hungry, she supposed. Normally grief would sap a person's hunger 
along with their strength but in her case she was famished.

Doggett placed a plate full of pancakes in front of her. She took the fork in 
her hand as Doggett flooded the plate with hot maple syrup.

"Mmm. Thank you, Agent Doggett."

"Yer welcome, Agent Scully."

They ate in silence. Scully could occasionally fell Doggett's eyes on her. 
She didn't have to look up to know that they were filled with concern. 
Halfway through breakfast, it hit her. Mulder was dead. Gone. No more late 
night Chinese takeout. No more cheesy Ed Wood movies. She'd spend Christmas 
with her family instead of ghost hunting. Pencils would stop falling from the 
ceiling of the office. She pushed her pancakes around the plate.

"Agent Scully?"

"I have to plan his funeral." She mumbled, staring at her half-eaten 
breakfast.

"Agent Scully?" he paused. "I couldn't hear ya."

"Mulder doesn't have any family. I have to make the funeral arrangements." 
She swallowed hard to keep the tears back.

"You want some help?" Doggett's usually gruff voice sounded like velvet to 
her as he asked what was obviously a difficult question.

"Yes. Please." She pulled her gaze up to match his. He nodded at her. "Thank 
you, Agent Doggett."

**

They spent most of the day in silence. Doggett escorted Scully through her 
duties at the funeral home, the cemetery. He always drove. She watched the 
world go by through the passenger window. She didn't volunteer to speak and 
he didn't push her to. They both knew there was nothing that they could say 
to make it all better. 

Doggett always stood slightly behind her and to the right. 'My right hand 
man.' Scully thought to herself. Sometimes he would put his hand on the small 
of her back and guide her to the car. If she concentrated hard enough she 
could almost feel Mulder's hand in its place. Almost. Mulder's touch was like 
the completion of a circuit. When they touched it was like two sides coming 
together to make a whole. Like a missing limb being magically restored. They 
had a strange kind of symbiosis. The rational and the fanciful. The realist 
and the dreamer. One could not exist without the other. She needed Mulder and 
Mulder needed her right back.

Doggett's touch was entirely different. It wasn't easy. It wasn't 
comfortable. But somehow it felt right. When his strong hand was placed 
gently on her back it felt as if her guardian angel was supporting her, 
holding her up so she could get through the day with just one small touch. It 
scared her. This feeling that she needed him was utterly terrifying. So was 
the feeling that her didn't need her.

**

Doggett glanced over at Scully, staring out the window as the world sped by. 
She was lost in thought and he hated to disturb her but...

"Agent Scully, you hungry?"

"No," she sighed without turning to him, "Thank you Agent Doggett." Her 
breath fogged up the window as she spoke.

"You sure?" he persisted. "You've hardly eaten all day." He paused with 
trepidation before hauling out the big guns. "Yer eatin' for two now, ya 
know."

She sighed and finally looked over at Doggett. He prepared himself for a 
reaming but instead she conceded, "There's a really good Chinese take out 
place just up the street."

"All right." He gave her the warmest smile he could muster. Instead of a 
response she turned back toward the view and ran her finger along the window, 
streaking the spot she had fogged up earlier.

**

She poked at the rice with her chopstick, pushing it around in the container. 
She hadn't eaten much, just played with her food. Grief does that to you. He 
knew it all to well.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"You'd be wasting your money, Agent Doggett." She still stared at the rice 
but the beginnings of a smile teased the corners of her mouth.

"Try me."

"Mulder. He loved this place." She gestured to the rice with her chopstick.

"You eat there often?"

"Yeah. It was one of the few restaurants we could agree on. I could get 
something healthy and he could get something greasy."

"Well, I'd have to agree with Mulder on this one, greasy is good. I don't 
know how you can stand that healthy tofu crap you eat, Agent Scully."

"I'm a doctor, Agent Doggett." This time he was sure he could see a small 
smile on her face.

"Why'd you join the FBI Doctor Scully?"

"It's a long story."

"Then I'll definitely get my money's worth."

**

"You gonna be ok?"

"Yes, thank you, Agent Doggett. Thank you for everything."

"Your welcome, Agent Scully."

He stood in her doorway, ready to leave but putting it off. The truth was, he 
didn't want to leave her alone with her grief. 

"If you need anything…"

"I'll be fine."

He knew then that she wouldn't ask him for help, even if she needed it. She 
was too strong, too stubborn. His mind raced for a way to get her off the 
hook. A way to ask without asking.

"Just ring once, Agent Scully, and I'll be on my way."

She nodded and closed the door. 

**

Moonlight whispered into her bedroom, sneaking through her curtains and 
leaping off the walls. Scully pulled her refuge around her tighter and 
snuggled deeper into the gentle solace of her bed. A tear escaped her blue 
eyes and she blinked it away. Her pride had been damaged tonight. She had 
called. Let the phone ring once. A split second later her guardian angel was 
at her door. 

She had tried to sleep alone; it had been an exercise in futility. She had 
found herself longing for his presence. His solid comfort. There he stood at 
her door. His arms were outstretched for her and she couldn't resist the 
safety she felt while she was in them.

Doggett sighed in his sleep and snuggled in closer to her back, pulling her 
in closer with the arm that draped over her. Even in his state of slumber he 
knew she needed him. Amazing. She found herself in awe of the man that held 
her now. How could he care so much about her when she had repeatedly pushed 
him away? Was his heart that big? Or had he been in her place once?

"Agent Doggett?" she whispered.

"Hmm?" he mumbled, still dozing.

"Agent Doggett?"

"Yeah? What is it Agent Scully?"

"Are you awake?"

"I am now." A hint of laughter reverberated in his voice.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Ask away."

"Do you remember the Billy Underwood case?"

An eternal pause hung in the air between them before he answered cautiously, 
"Yeah."

"Who is he, Agent Doggett? Who'd you lose?"

Doggett let his slide across Scully's silk pajamas as he rolled over onto his 
back, and stared at the ceiling. Pain fell off of him in waves. Scully turned 
over to face him when she felt the warmth of his body fall away from her. She 
placed a hand on his chest and begged, "Please."

"My son."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm ok."

"You don't want to talk about this do you?"

"Its ok, I can if you need me to."

"No that's ok." With this she rolled away from him. "I've become entirely too 
dependent on you." Doggett spent the rest of the night staring at Scully's 
ceiling.

**

She hadn't called in several days. He kept waiting for the phone to ring. He 
had even caught himself checking the phone for a dial tone, just to make sure 
it was still in service.

Doggett straightened his tie and stared at his reflection in the mirror. He 
looked tired. He hadn't slept well. He was overwhelmed with the realization 
that he had become used to her bed in such a short amount of time. Used to 
her. 

He missed her. 

**

Scully sat on the edge of her bed; hands folded in her lap. It had been 
another long, sleepless night. She hadn't even attempted to go to bed. 
Instead she stayed up all night watching old science fiction movies. Mulder's 
movies. Now she sat in her black dress prepared to attend Mulder's funeral.

Her mother would be there any minute to offer some consolation, to hold her 
hand through the funeral. She resisted calling her most recent savior. She 
had managed to make it through the night somehow. It had taken more than a 
little willpower. She caught her self with her hand on the phone once. She 
glanced down at her hand and saw her knuckles turn white as it gripped the 
receiver. Her inner selves were fighting each other. In the end pride won out 
over consolation. She was strong; she needed no one.

The doorbell rang, reverberating throughout her apartment. She padded in her 
stockinged feet to the door. Her bottom lip quivered so violently she feared 
the building might be shaken down. Her eyes were flooded with salty tears 
that threatened to fall as she opened the door. 

"Oh Dana."

"Mom," she cried as she flung herself into waiting arms. Her nostrils were 
flooded with the scent of her mother's perfume. The same comforting scent she 
had worn since her daughter's childhood.

She needed no one, except her Mommy.

**

He was destroyed. He stood there, next to Kersh of all people, and he was 
utterly destroyed. The wind caught her scent and blew it toward him. He 
inhaled deeply, smelling grass, oak trees, fresh dirt and her.

She was doing remarkably well. She stood between her mother and Assistant 
Director Skinner but she leaned on neither of them. She was holding her tears 
in like a good Federal Agent but she couldn't hide the pools of saline that 
puddled there, threatening to fall. 

He had wanted to be there for her, to wrap his arm around her and support her 
weight. A few nights ago he would have expected it, but she didn't call, 
didn't ask. Deep down, he knew she wouldn't. Deep down, he knew why.

**

He had rid himself of the suit and tie the second he stepped through his 
door. He was dressed in jeans and a simple comfortable cotton T-shirt but he 
felt anything but comfortable. The sight of Scully in Skinner's arms was 
seared into his brain along with her words, 'I've become entirely too 
dependent on you.'

He stalked over to the refrigerator and grabbed himself a bottle of beer. He 
chugged down half the bottle, the liquid refreshing his parched throat. 
Barefoot, he padded back to his coach and flopped down on it. He propped his 
feet onto the coffee table and flipped on the TV. If he couldn't be 
comfortable at least he could act comfortable.

He vaulted out of his seat the second the phone rang.

"Hello?" He asked anxiously, praying that her voice would sing out.

Instead, Monica's soothing voice came over the line. "Hey."

"Hey" he sighed. 

"You ok, John?"

"Yeah, Mon, I'm ok."

"John…" she spoke in the tone of voice she always used when he wasn't 
forthcoming with his true emotional state. It annoyed the hell out of him.

"Monica, I'm fine. Really. I'm just worried about Agent Scully."

"How is she?"

"I dunno, as well as could be expected, given the circumstances."

"She needs you now, John."

"Monica…" he warned.

"You know what she's going through."

"I don't wanna go there."

"I know its painful, John."

"Monica. She doesn't need me. She has her mother, AD Skinner and those three 
weird friends of hers."

"None of them could possibly understand…"

"She doesn't want my help, Monica. She doesn't need me."

"John."

"What?"

"You've fallen in love with her, haven't you?"

"Oh for chrissake."

"OK, I won't go there."

"Thank you."

"If you need anything, John."

"Thanks Mon."

"I'll talk to you soon."


**

He tried desperately to concentrate on Sportscenter but his mind kept 
drifting back to Monica's accusation. He wasn't in love with Agent Scully. 
The whole idea was ridiculous. He was her partner, nothing else. It didn't 
matter that she was a damned attractive woman, and a bright one at that. A 
knock on his door interrupted his thoughts. He opened to reveal the object of 
his current fixation.

"Hi. I… I tried to call but…"

As he waved her inside he explained. "Uh, I was talking to Agent Reyes."

"Really? How is she?"

"She's, you know, she's good."

She began speaking with her head down, as if there was something infinitely 
fascinating about her shoes. "I wanted to apologize, Agent Doggett. I've put 
you through a lot recently, and you've gone above and beyond the call of 
duty."

"It was nothing, Agent Scully, I was just glad to help."

"Still, I feel I've been a little presumptuous."

"Agent Scully, I'm your partner. If you can't come to me…"

She fell silent, and her head bent down even farther.

His voice softened. "I'm not going anywhere, Agent Scully. I promise you 
that."

Her voice in return was barely a whisper. "You can't be sure."

"I'm not transferring out, I'm not quitting the Bureau and I'm certainly not 
going to be abducted by aliens." He smiled for her benefit. "Especially since 
I don't believe in them."

This got a small smile from Scully, partially hidden by the curtain of 
flaming hair concealing her expression.

"I'm not going to leave you." He raised her chin to force her to look at the 
sincerity in his face. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him into her embrace. As she 
pulled away, she brought his face down to hers and planted a warm kiss onto 
his forehead. Then she pressed her forehead to his and whispered, "Thank you, 
Agent Doggett."

They stayed like this for a few moments. Doggett breathed in her scent and 
reveled in their intimate embrace. 

He felt empty and cold when she backed away and said, "I should be going 
home."

"You sure you don't want to…" He wanted her to stay. He wanted to be there 
for her if she needed him.

"That's ok. Thank you."

"If you need anything…"

"I'll call." Scully stopped to briefly admire John's rosebush in full bloom. 
The red blossoms filled the air with a pungent aroma. She picked a bloom, 
careful to avoid the thorns and held the blossom to her nose, inhaling its 
sweet scent. She closed her eyes to better enjoy its bouquet. When she opened 
her eyes she voiced, "Goodnight John."

"Goodnight Dana."

FIN