"Slice of Misery"

Disclaimer:  They aren't mine...I'm not making any money off 
this. CC, 1013 & Fox own Scully, Doggett, Mulder, et al. Grant's 
lyrics aren't mine either. They're his...and MSG Records's.

Classification: V/A (Yeah, more of that Angst, but a nice little 
Dipper nugget at the end)

Rating: PG

Archive:  Anywhere you like, as long as you tell me and my name 
stays with it.

Summary:  Six months after the events in "Follow Through".  
Minor spoilers, S8

"Slice of Misery" by Beautiful Cynic
beautiful_cynic@yahoo.com

"To cross this room and touch my shoulder.  To say my name and 
kiss my cheek.  I'm sure to you that's just good manners; but 
the man who's still in love, he feels alone and scared and tired 
and dumb and used and sick and weak.  I'm supposed to look you 
in the eye and say I'm happy... Well, how the hell can I be when 
you're holding him? And in the end this is just a slice of 
misery."
--"Slice of Misery" (By Grant Langston)


It's been six months since I had sex with Agent Scully. Six long 
months of both of us pretending that it never happened - for 
different reasons, I'm sure. Longest damn six months of my life.

I took a couple of sick days after that night at my place.  It 
wasn't a lie...I was sick.  Sick at the thought of having to sit 
in that tiny office with that woman.  That I'd have to watch 
her, smell her, maybe even feel her as she brushed by me.  Or 
that our hands might meet reaching for a file. Sick that for a 
brief time I'd held her in my arms and that it would never - no, 
*must* never happen again.

It just wasn't fair.  All I've wanted since Luke died and my 
marriage busted up was a little happiness.  I'm not asking for a 
lot.  Just someone to love, who'd love me back.  Then, when I 
find someone I think just might fit the bill, she's in love with 
someone else. And that someone else is God only knows where, but 
still, she won't let go.

Of course, if she were the type to give up that easily, would I 
really want her for my own?  Yes...no, make that 'hell yes'.  
I'll take what I can get.

So, I finally get up the courage to go back to work, figuring 
we'll get the awkwardness over right off the bat.  Come to an 
agreement that things happen, and that was that.  Acknowledged.  
Move on.

Damned if she didn't act like nothing had happened.  I 
mean...NOTHING.  I was floored.  I didn't get a wink, or even a 
conspiratorial smile.  And that hurt worst of all.

Fast forward now...just a couple of months.  I come to find out 
my little partner is pregnant.  Words can't even begin to 
describe what I was thinking and feeling at that moment.  I was 
terrified and hopeful.  I wanted to think there was a 
possibility...  Then, she answered my casual inquiry as to when 
the baby was due, dashing my hopes...my dreams...against the 
rocks.

Watching her go through this pregnancy killed me.   I supported 
her any way I could.  Did everything in my power to protect her, 
protect the little J. Edgar she was carrying.  Because the one 
person who should have been taking care of things wasn't here to 
do it.  What can I say?  I'm a stand-up guy.

I didn't expect anything in return, and good thing, that.  
Because fast forward again, and guess what? Daddy's home.

Of course, Daddy was also dead.  And all of a sudden, I seem to 
matter.  I exist again.  Sure, it's not what I want, but it'll 
do.  I've been at the point where I had it all...perfect family, 
job I loved.  And it all went away.  I was just glad to have any 
illusion of happiness now.

That's right, we're gonna move ahead a bit now.  It's just too 
hard to dwell on the time that she needed me, that she leaned on 
me.  When I could pretend she cared.

It killed me to watch how he treated her when he came back.  He 
was indifferent...obnoxious at times.  She didn't deserve that 
at all.  But she put up with it, and she did it with a smile on 
her face.  I clenched my jaw - and my fists, but stayed in my 
place, watching through doorways as my heart was torn away piece 
by piece.

I wanted to take her by the shoulders, plead with her, to see he 
wasn't what she needed, that he couldn't possibly be right for 
her.  History didn't matter. Seven years of dancing around this 
attraction they'd had meant nothing if he didn't treat her well.  
It pissed me off that she could be so blind.

I don't do this, can't bring myself to do something to turn her 
against me.

Next thing I know, it's go-time, and it's left up to me to make 
sure her baby gets her safe and sound.  Mulder's been exposed to 
the virus that creates the Replicants, so he can't even know 
where she's at.  Just in case.

Don't know why I chose Democratic Hot Springs.  I was born 
there, and I suppose that's why.  It was a way to force a 
connection, a bond between me and Scully, or at least me and her 
baby.  Helped that the place was deserted, and out of the way.  
No one would find her there, and maybe no one would ever notice 
it's where I came from.  And maybe I'd wake up and the last 
couple of months were all some bad dream.

Boy, the joke was on me.  For starters, it wasn't a dream.  That 
jackass was back for good, it seemed, and before I knew it, it 
seemed I was permanently assigned to the doorways, outside, 
looking in.  I felt like a poor kid at Christmas.  All the store 
windows were dressed so pretty, filled with everything you ever 
wanted.  But, when you reached out to take a little of the 
perfection for yourself, to just touch it and assure yourself 
not only was it real, but that even someone like you could have 
a little, all you got was a handful of cold, hard reality.

One of the guys I served in the Corps with said it best.  
"Life's a virgin.  A bitch would be much easier than this."  
Amen to that, brother.  Can I get a 'hallelujah'?  Can I get her 
to look in my direction?  To see what's written all over my 
face?  To ease this crushing misery?

I gotta stop here, take a breath before I go on.  I've learned 
not to let myself hope for anything where Dana...where Agent 
Scully is concerned.  Better to go in with no expectations and 
be pleasantly surprised than to set yourself up for a fall, 
right?  Right, glad you see it my way.  Okay, I can go on now.

The baby is two days old now, and I still haven't been to see 
them.  Been getting my reports from Skinner, instead.  But 
finally, the courage surfaces and next thing I know, I'm 
standing in the hallway outside her hospital room, staring at 
the door, mustering up the nerve to go in.  Last thing I want is 
to be subjected to some Ozzie and Harriet moment.  Taking a deep 
breath, I push the door open, and my breath catches in my 
throat.

Scully is pale, drawn. Even her lips have lost that lucious pink 
tint they always seem to have.  Her eyes look bruised, as if 
she's been in a helluva fight, and the other guy won.  Her hair 
hangs limply around her face.  But she's wearing the most 
beautiful, serene smile I've ever seen.   It's official.  This 
woman owns my heart.

I step forward tentatively, hand carrying the flowers 
outstretched, other hand gripping the bottom hem of my blazer to 
stop from caressing her angelic face.  We exchange greetings, 
the first words out of my mouth are an apology for not finding a 
safe enough place.  She takes my hand and smiles, telling me it 
wasn't my fault that they'd found her.  And besides, they didn't 
harm her or the baby, so it didn't matter anyway.

So, there's this quiet little bundle in her arms.  And 
amazingly, Mulder is nowhere to be seen, which means I can 
relax.  Except, she's holding my hand lightly and I couldn't 
relax if my life depended on it.   When she takes her hand away, 
I deflate and only hope she doesn't notice.

I can't take my eyes off the hand that was just warmly folded in 
mine as it pulls a corner of the blanket aside and reveals the 
sweetest face I've laid eyes on since my boy came into the 
world...or since I met her in the hallway and got an impromptu 
shower.

"I'd like you to meet William Luke Scully."

My heart stops, sure I've heard her incorrectly.  I must have 
made a face, because she immediately frowns and starts to 
apologize for assuming using that name would be all right.  I 
hold up my hand, silencing her. Reaching out, I run a finger 
down little William's cheek.  Damn, my hand looks huge next to 
that tiny little angel.

Holding back all the things I really want to say, I thank her 
gruffly, pushing back tears.  I never let anyone see me cry when 
my boy was born, or when he died, and it seemed wrong to let 
someone see me cry for a child I had nothing to do with.

Wow.  I mean...damn.  This just proves I've registered on her 
radar.  I exist in Dana Scully's world.  So, it's not a heady 
confession of her secret love for me, but it's proof that she 
cares, that she's been paying attention.  And that's enough.

It has to be.

*end