Title:  Something Rational
Author:  agent myers
Rating:  R
Keywords:  (Sort of) DSR, Doggett POV
Summary:  Though Dana Scully seemed calm on the outside, I knew there was a
storm raging inside her.  Of all the things she's seen and done, all the
things she's endured with Mulder, and now to face life without him...I knew
it was chaos in there.  I just wanted to ease that pain for her...to calm
the storm.
Spoilers:  Within, Without
Disclaimer:  They're not mine.  Duh.
Feedback:  I live for it.  
Archive:  Gossamer, XFMU, yes.  All others please ask, I'm sure I'll say
yes!
Author's Notes:  I never thought I'd see the day when I'd write DSR.  Mulder
belongs to Scully and Scully belongs to Mulder!  Darnit!  So this is just
for fun.  Don't even think about flaming me 'cause you don't like DSR.  I
don't like Slash, but I don't go and bitch people out for writing it.  Okay,
now that you all think I'm a big grump, here's the story!
Recommended Listening:  "500 Miles" by the Proclaimers, and "Fumbling
Towards Ecstasy" by Sarah McLachlan


***
 
[ Part One:  Doggett POV ]


She was hiding behind her computer screen.  I couldn't see her, but I heard
her.  She's was crying again.  Soft, muffled gasps in the quiet hum of the
office.  For the last two months I sat in that chair and listened to her
cry.

I thought she trusted me, but apparently not enough to see her cry.  Once or
twice I saw those tears, the burden within her pushing down so hard that she
couldn't contain it.  I held her...I wanted to her to know that I was there.
And that it was okay for her to cry.  That showing weakness didn't make her
weak.  It was selfish, but I hated being on the outside.  I wanted to be
right there next to her.  I wanted her to cry on my shoulder and feel her
tears soak through my shirt.

But I'm not Mulder, and I never will be.

We couldn't have been more different, Mulder and I.  Not that I wanted to be
Mulder.  There was only one thing about him that I wanted, and that was the
trust and love that Dana Scully had in him.  

If I was him I would have told her long ago.  But he disappeared, and I
started to believe that he was dead.  Of course she cried.  It was perfectly
obvious that Mulder was something of a soul mate to her, or so she believed.
I don't believe in soul mates.  I don't believe that there's only one woman,
among millions, that is my perfect match.  No one is a perfect match to
another.    

I stood up quickly, even though I had no real reason to.  She looked up at
me, over her computer screen.  She knew that I'd caught her.  She looked
away and wiped her eyes as I walked over to her desk.  I crouched down next
to her chair.  She wouldn't look at me.

"Scully."

"Hmm."

"Please tell me."

She closed her eyes.  She was on the verge of tears again; I recognized that
face.  I wanted to reach out and pull her into my arms, to show her that,
while I may not be Mulder, I can still give her comfort.  I could give her
so much more if she'd just let me in.

"I'm fine."  That line is her trademark, and when she uses it, I know she's
not fine.

Bolder than I've ever felt before, I took her hand.  She looked at me in
surprise.  And I didn't know what to say.  There was so much to say that
couldn't be said.  I just looked at her with empathy, and hoped that she
would understand.

We shared a long moment.

She stood up, and I stood with her.  "Thank you." she said, the tears
beginning to fall again.  And she fell into my arms.  I wrapped them tightly
around her, my open mouth in her hair.  I stroked the back of her neck.

And she cried.  Softly at first, and then harder.  Her small frame shook
against my larger one, and I wanted to absorb her pain.  Her muffled cries
formed into words.

"I...I just don't know what's real anymore...when...when do I find...peace?
When do I find happiness..."

I squeezed her tighter then, and I felt her arms tighten in response.  I let
her cry.  I let her cry as long as she wanted.  A good five minutes.

"Damned hormones." she said, her head still against my chest.  "I'm sorry."

"You got nothin' to be sorry about, Scully."  My voice cracked.

She pulled her head up and looked me straight in the eye.  And then I think
she saw it.

"All this time I've felt so cold inside.  Empty.  But...I should have just
came to you.  My partner."

I nodded, and smiled.  It was the first time I'd heard her refer to me as
her partner without regret or distaste.  She never meant it, and she
couldn't help it.  I just wasn't Mulder.

I released her, and she let go of me slowly.  She grabbed a tissue.

"Listen," I said, crouching down again, "you wanna come over for dinner
tonight?  Talk some more?"

She hesitated and I thought she would say no.  In fact, I expected her to
say no before I even asked.  

"That sounds nice."

I think she saw my surprise.  She smiled.  I nodded and returned the smile,
and got up to go back to my chair.  I planned out a meal in my head, and
tried to think of all the stops I could pull out to make her happy that
evening.


***


I lit a couple of candles.  I didn't want to make the room look romantic,
but I did want it to be comfortable.  And the soft glow of candlelight has
always had the ability to calm me.

Though Dana Scully seemed calm on the outside, I knew there was a storm
raging inside her.  Of all the things she's seen and done, all the things
she's endured with Mulder, and now to face life without him...I knew it was
chaos in there.  Confusion must be nothing new to her.  I could surely
understand that, having lost two of the closest people in my life, my wife
and my son.  And I could understand the need to hide it as well.  The fear
that drives you to keep it all inside.  But everyone has their breaking
point.  And when the dam breaks, it's usually not pretty.  I just wanted to
ease that pain for her...to calm the storm.

She would never guess that I can be like this.  I know she thought I was a
total asshole the first time she met me.  She didn't hide it.  On the
contrary, she threw water in my face.  I think that was the first time she
shocked me.  She was a spitfire.  I had certainly underestimated her.

What surprised me next was her strength.  I read her files...I knew all
about her cancer, the deaths in her family, finding out she couldn't have
children.  And then Mulder, the pregnancy.  She wasn't fragile.  I didn't
realize it.  

And then, I surprised myself, because my feelings for Scully had become more
than paternal.  They started out that way, a need to bring some kind of
comfort to her chaotic life.  But as time passed, I found myself admiring
her on a more affectionate level.  As strong as I may have appeared, I was
scared to death to show her affection, no matter how she would have taken
it.

And part of me wondered how she *would* take it.  I could fantasize all I
want, but in reality I never thought she'd welcome my advances.  Shit, she
worked with Mulder for seven years...and I'd been in her life less than a
year.  She didn't take to people quickly.

The doorbell rang.  I tossed the lighter on the table and went to answer the
door.  When I opened the door, she was smiling slightly.  She was wearing
jeans and simple t-shirt, and she looked relaxed.  

"Hi." She said, and I returned the greeting as I let her in.  She looked
around the room as though she'd never seen it before.  

"Hope you're hungry.  I made lasagna."

She looked impressed.  "You're a regular Martha Stewart, John."

"Only by necessity, I assure you." I said, grinning.  I took her coat and
hung it in the closet.  It smelled like her, like vanilla and some sort of
sweet flower.  I tried to memorize it.

She sat down on the couch, and I offered to get her something to drink
without alcohol or caffeine.

"Orange juice sounds great." She said

I hurried off to the kitchen, and quickly poured the juice into a wine
flute.  She smiled when I handed it to her.  I cracked open a beer.  She
sighed, and looked at it longingly.

"I really wish I could have one of those.  Might take the edge off." She
said, half laughing.  I sat opposite her on the couch.

"Yeah, not only do you have to go through the chemical imbalances and stuff,
you have to face it drug-free.  I sure don't envy you."

We shared a laugh, and then Scully's face turned serious.

"John, I...I want to apologize for...breaking down on you today."

I sat my beer down on the coffee table.  "You don't have to apologize for
anything, Scully."

"But...I..."

"But nothin'.  I'm your partner.  If you can't lean on me, Scully, then who
can you lean on?"

She was quiet for a moment, staring at her juice glass.  "I just miss him,
John."

"I know."  I wanted to tell her again that I would find him, but the
likelihood of that was diminishing as each day passed.  I didn't want to
make her a promise I couldn't keep.

"I know you probably think that Mulder and I were lovers."

Her statement caught me off-guard, and I wasn't sure how to answer.  "I've
wondered, but I don't assume."

She sat back against the couch and examined her drink once more.

"We weren't."

I nodded, grateful to hear her tell me something so obviously private to
her.

"Mulder and I have a special relationship, but we've never...slept together.
He's my best friend...he's always been there, always understood me even when
I didn't understand myself.  He's been the center of my universe for the
last seven years.  I do love him, just not the way most people think."

She was silent.  I didn't want to say anything to stop her from letting out
what she clearly needed to share.  But her words affected me deeply.  Yes, I
had believed they were lovers.  To discover that they had not been was
surprising.  Truth be told, I was glad.  She looked up at me, and then down
again.

"And now I feel like the only person who has known me - really known me - is
gone.  There's still so many questions to answer.  And being pregnant...it's
just all too consuming.  He's usually the one that stops the world from
spinning so fast.  Know what I mean?"

I nodded, though I knew I would never really understand their relationship
the way they do.

"I want to help you, Scully.  I'm not Mulder, but..."

"I don't expect you to be Mulder, John." She said.  I regarded her for a
moment.

"I just want you to know that you can trust me now.  I want you to feel like
you can lean on me like you leaned on Mulder.  I just...I only want to take
away some of the chaos."

Tears formed in her eyes and spill down her cheeks.  "I want that, too.  I
just don't know how to let you."

"This is a good start."

She smiled slightly behind her tears, and nodded in agreement.  I got up and
crossed the distance between us, and sat down beside her.  She fell into my
arms, as though she had been waiting for this moment since she arrived at my
door.

I let her pull away from me after a long moment.  I grabbed a tissue from
the endtable, and hand it to her.  She dried her eyes.

"Thank you, John.  For everything."

"Don't mention it.  Ready to eat?"

"Oh, God, yes."

I smiled and stood up, and went off to the kitchen to pull the lasagna out
of the oven where it been was warming.  I sliced the garlic bread, and
stirred the corn.  I turned to look at Scully, who was down on her hands and
knees looking at my video collection.

"Goodness, John.  I think you have every Sesame Street Sing-A-Long ever
made."

I laughed.  "I do.  Luke loved those when he was little.  You can borrow 'em
if you want."

She looked up and smiled.  "I just might do that."

I spooned huge helpings of lasagna and corn onto plates, and put a piece of
garlic bread neatly on the side of the plate.  Then I got an idea.

"You wanna watch a movie while we eat?"

"That sounds like fun."

"Alright...you pick out the flick, I'll bring the food."

"Even if it's a chick flick?"

"Even if it's a chick flick."

I smiled to myself, and prayed that she would pick out something I could
stomach.  I carried the two plates, silverware, napkins and the decanter of
orange juice to the coffee table.  When I got there, Scully had picked her
movie.

"Deuce Bigalow?"  I asked.

She nodded, grinning.  I shrugged, thinking that "Deuce Bigalow: Male
Gigolo" didn't really seem like Scully's type, but maybe tonight she needed
a laugh.  I handed her the plate.

"Oh.  I want that." She breathed, and I took the plate and the fork from me.
I smiled proudly, and stick the movie in the VCR.  I fast-forwarded through
previews, and let the movie roll as we dig into our lasagna.

Ten minutes later, I hopped up to get Scully another helping of lasagna.
Scully sat next to me on the couch, and we both put our feet up on the
coffee table to watch the movie.

I considered myself lucky to be sitting next to the enigmatic Dana Scully.
I wondered if this is how Mulder felt when he spent time with her outside of
work, if her presence calmed and excited him as much as it calms and excites
me.  To actually be a part of her life for a few hours felt like the
greatest gift ever.

Throughout the movie, I gradually felt her slump closer towards me.  Her
shoulders relaxed and leaned against mine.  As the last scene of the movie
rolled, I felt her head heavy against my shoulder.  I looked down.

She was asleep.

I didn't want to move.  She looked so peaceful, and I couldn't imagine
disturbing her.  It afforded me the opportunity to watch her as well.  I
stared at her face, her beautiful face.  A piece of hair had fallen before
her eyes, and I swept it gently away, brushing her skin slightly.  I wished
that I could touch her.  I wish that she wanted me to touch her.

But I'm not Mulder, and I never will be.

So, for now, I can only watch.  I can only bear witness to this exquisite
person from a distance.  If I never have another moment with her, at least I
will have this as a memory to look back on when I ache to calm her tears.
And maybe someday she will know that, while I may not be Mulder, I can still
be there for her.  I will be the one who follows her where she goes, who
protects her because I want to, not because it is my assignment, and not
because I am paid to do it.  

And if she'd only let me, I'd be the one who comes home to her, who sleeps
next to her at night, and the one who thinks the world would collapse if she
felt one ounce of sorrow.  At that moment, I could've been that man, I
would've died to be that man.  

Sighing silently, I slipped my arm around her waist and under her legs.  I
stood slowly, I picked her up, and I carried her up the stairs to my
bedroom. 


~F~


***


"Something Rational"
by agent myers

[ Part Two:  Scully POV ]


Soft shadows danced across the ceiling, illuminated by the candlelight.  The
room seemed to be filled with haze, and I couldn't see his face, but I felt
his body.  

He was closer than close to me.  He was inside me.  I heard and felt his
breath against my ear, a sign that he was close.  His motions were smooth,
as though we floated on water.  Through the blurry haze, I looked at him.
His face came closer to mine, and suddenly, I saw my lover's face.

John.

My eyes flew open.

Still lying beneath the cool sheets, I was vaguely aware that I was not in
my own bedroom.  The sun shone brightly through the windows of the room.  I
looked around me.  A king sized bed.

And then I remembered.

I was in John Doggett's bedroom.

A sudden panic spread through me as I tried to remember last night.  We had
dinner, and then watched the movie, and then...nothing.  Blank.

I sat up finally, my eyes darting around.  John was not in the room.  I
looked down at the sheets and blankets.  The other half of the bed was still
made, tucked underneath the pillows.

And I was still wearing my clothes.

I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.  And then I heard a knocking
at the door.  My head shot up, and John Doggett stood in the doorway.

"Scully...you alright?"

I shook my head.  "I'm fine...why?"

He took a step in the room.  "I thought I heard...something."

I'll bet you did, I thought.  "I just...I didn't know where I was for a
minute." 

John came into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed.  "You crashed
last night.  It was late, so I just brought you up here." He said, smiling
slightly.  My stomach fluttered at the thought of John carrying me up the
stairs, like some hero to save the damsel in distress.  I only wish I could
remember the feel of his arms around me.

"You...want some breakfast?  I make great scrambled eggs..." John asked me.
My stomach turned and I instinctively placed a hand on my middle.

"Uh, no offense to your cooking...your lasagna was great...but since I've
gotten pregnant, my stomach doesn't get along too well with eggs."  I said
sheepishly.  John and I hadn't talked much about the pregnancy.  I avoided
the topic, I noticed, as though it was something I should be embarrassed to
talk about.  I wasn't...it was the circumstances surrounding the pregnancy
that bothered me.

"My wife loved chinese food, but when she got pregnant she couldn't so much
as smell it and she'd be running to the bathroom." He said, his eyes
lighting up.  "But other than that, being pregnant was a great experience.
For both of us."  He examined the floor as he told me this.

I nodded and smiled, though I felt a pang of sadness in my chest.  I had
always imagined that, when I was pregnant, I would be married, and that I
would experience it step-by-step with my husband.  I never imagined that I
would be going it alone, doing the single mother routine.  

I realized I had been quiet for a long moment.

"You okay, Scully?"

"Hm?  Yes, I'm fine...just thinking.  I never thought I'd be...pregnant
and..."

"Alone?" He finished.

"Yeah."

"It's tough."

I nodded.  Unbearable was more like it, but I didn't say it.

"Scully...you don't have to be alone."

I looked up at him.

"What I mean is, if you want someone to...talk to, and maybe go to
appointments with...I'm just your partner and all, but, I've had experience
in that area."

My heart swelled as I listened to his proposition.  I could sense his slight
discomfort, but I could also recognize his sincerity.  I wanted to reach out
for him.

"That means a lot.  Thank you."

He shrugged.  "I just hate to see you like this.  You deserve more."

What do I deserve?  Do I deserve a man who wants to feed me lasagna and take
me to my doctor's appointments?  Do I deserve a man who wants to spend his
time just being with me instead of dragging me through hell only to leave me
in it, alone?

Damn Mulder.  Damn him, I think angrily.  He left me here.  He left me
alone.  

No, I thought.  That's not fair, when so many times he had sought the truth
in my name.  My cancer, Antarctica...I can't begin to name all the times
that I was the center of his search, the reason.  I owe him at least that.

But while Mulder may have been my savior in all of the chaos that we've
experienced the last seven years, he has never been the kind of man I would
choose to spend the rest of my life with.  Since I became pregnant, the need
for a quiet life has been more and more important.  But quiet has never been
Mulder's friend.  The quiet only gives him time to think of the pain in his
life, of all the damage inside him.  

Everyone has pain, and to believe otherwise is just self-absorption.  John
Doggett has experienced great loss in his life; the death of his wife and
his son, and still he finds the strength to continue.  

But what does he want with me, I thought?

The way he's looking at me now, and the way he's catered to me in the past
twenty-four hours has astounded me.  It makes me wonder if there's a reason
for all this attention, or if he's simply being a good partner.  I guess
I've never had a "normal" partner, the kind that you only interact with on
an eight-to-five basis, and it makes me wonder.  What made him pick me up so
gently and carry me to his bedroom, and tuck me beneath the sheets?  What
made him want to make me dinner?  What made him come to me in the office 
and
comfort me with those soft blue eyes and gentle voice?

I didn't know if I was terrified or hopeful.

Yes, I did.

Deep down I felt it.  Attraction.  But just behind that attraction laid
guilt.  How could I do this to Mulder?  What if he's alive?  What if he
comes back, safe and normal, and finds that I have forgotten him after just
two months?  I was gone once, and when I came back, he was there.  He's
always been.

"Thank you, John." I said simply.  There was nothing else I could say then.
I was stuck in between two rocks, two lives.  

Two men.  I laughed silently at the notion.

John smiled and gave me an innocent pat on the knee.  "Anytime." He says, a
little to earnestly.  And suddenly I had to get out of there.  I stood up.

"I'm supposed to meet my mother this morning." I said, lying.  "I have to
go."

"Sure.  I'll walk you down." He said.  I started out of the room and I felt
his hand on the small of my back.  I stiffened...I don't think he noticed.
But the feeling was just a little too familiar.

And missed.

He retrieved my coat from the closet and handed it to me.  "Thanks." I said,
finding my keys in the pocket.

He just smiled and opened the door for me.  "See you Monday?"

I nodded. "Monday.  See you then."  I started to turn away, when something
held me back.  I looked back at John, standing in the doorway.  His face...I
couldn't quite figure it out...was it sadness?  I walked to him, and hugged
him tightly.  I wanted to say something, something to describe how I felt,
but I couldn't.  Because I didn't really know myself.

Without a word, I pulled away, slowly, and headed for the car.  I got in and
started the engine.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw John's door close.  I
leaned my head back against the headrest, and sighed, closing my eyes.  And
taking a last look at his house, I drove away.

I knew I would be back.  It was just a question of when.


~F~


***

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