Title: They Sure Do Fall Hard Author: luvinx < luvinx8@yahoo.com > Category: DSF/angsty/DSR-ish Spoilers: Nothing more than usual Timeline: Anytime, really...Mulder is physically outta the way, though Rating: PG Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine Archive: Anywhere, just lemme know... Feedback: Please...please...please...'specially from my fellow SHODDsisters...you guys are all so good, and I wanna learn...J Dedication: To RP & GA; To all my fellow SHODDsisters; And, to my Mom, who has always encouraged me in everything! ---------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------- --------------- He was driving there again. It always happened the same way. The restlessness would set in. He'd switch on the TV, only to stare out the window. He'd take a jog to relieve the stress, only to come back home more taut and fitful than before. He'd take a quick shower to ease his aching muscles, only to come out with nothing but a lingering chill. He'd take a drive to relax his mind...only to drive to her. He would always convince himself, of course, that he was just taking a ride, no destination in mind. A small trip to unwind, to listen to some music, to hack away at some tenuous time. No harm done. Then, unconsciously, he would follow the directions that his heart fed his body, allowing his mind to be lulled into a humble slumber. And, even as he pulled up to her building, his mind fabricated excuse after excuse, dragging him deeper and deeper into a hole of his own denial. This time would be different, after all. He parked the car down the street, and stared at the outline of his hand atop the steering wheel. He focussed on each and every shadow as it danced about, intent on finding any distraction, any at all, to break him from his current fixation. Normally, he would drive by her neighborhood, shame guiding him back to his home where he belonged. He was no stalker. Each time he ended up here, he vowed that he would go speak to her. God knows that they both had a million things to discuss, and had for a while now. He was out of the truck before he knew what was happening. He tried to figure out what commands his body was listening to, and from where they were coming from. Clearly, not from him. He heard the echo of his shoes on the pavement as if from a mile away, moving from his truck to her building in a nauseating leap. A man leaving at that moment spared him the need to call for entry. He was up the stairs and to her floor with dizzying speed. He had started across the hall hastily, but, as her door loomed closer ahead, his pace became slower and slower...until coming to a complete stop. His heart, on the other hand, beat faster and faster as he neared her door, as if seizing all the energy from the rest of his body. He felt weak and annoyed...childish and ashamed. He let his forehead lean against the wall, cursing his own frailty, and closed his eyes... Suddenly, her door burst open, and she came out. She stared at him for a very long moment, and, moistening her lips, croaked out a soft, "Agent Doggett...?" When he first saw her, he wanted to run, to instantly hide all his vulnerability to her, from her. But, as she stared, her softness enhanced by her sleepy features, a calm swept over him. He walked steadily over to her, letting the tension in his face and neck melt away into a smile. She repeated his name and followed up with, "Are you alright?" **I am now** he thought to himself, honestly. As composed as he now was, however, he still felt unsure of what exactly to say. She stood there in her pajamas, single eyebrow raised, neither happy nor angry. She seemed more confused...maybe slightly amused. He really couldn't tell. Instead, with a deep breath, he let his earlier sentiment be voiced. "I...am...now..." The eyebrow rose even higher now, while the rest of her face remained unchanged. He had to strain to hear what she said next. "Uh...Agent...John...what is...ummm...or was...wrong?" A beat went by. And then, to his utter astonishment, even softer that before, she whispered, "and why are you OK now?" His heart literally leapt into his throat, and his pulse raced from limb to limb. He felt like Popeye whenever he gulped down his spinach. He wasn't sure if he was more excited that she called him by his name, the words themselves, the way she said them, or, simply because she hadn't laughed in his face as she threw him out. She broke through these thoughts and said, much assured this time, "John...why are you OK now?" He owed her an answer. More than that, he owed her his life and his love...and his heart. Ironically, she already possessed everything but his answer. And she had owned it all almost since he had first met her. His heart only seemed to truly regain its pulse whenever she was around. She had made it come back to life. And for that alone, he owed her everything. "Dana," he heard himself mutter, "we need...to talk." Her eyes spoke first. Now? they said. But her voice interrupted. "Alright," she said gently, stepping aside to give him room to enter. Her apartment was dark, and, to his amazement, she left it that way. She led him into her living room, and sat down on the couch. He joined her. He couldn't believe his own boldness. Usually, he would have sat anywhere but too near to her. As much as he always had wanted to, it never seemed right, and always appeared to make her visibly uncomfortable. Until tonight. Stoic as ever, Dana shifted almost imperceptively on the cushion, and said, "What do we need to talk about." Funny. It was not a question. Still, his heart shouted **That I need you**...**That I want you**...**That I love you**. Apparently, his heart shone through to her because, before he could even speak a word, tears filled her eyes, and she looked down at her hands and whimpered his name. "John..." That was all he needed. Impulsively, he grabbed her hand and pulled it up to his chest. "Dana...I dunno how to tell ya...what you have done fer me...you got no idea...when I lost Luke, and my family, I never thought I would really live again...truly feel again...until I met you..." She sat there, not looking up, but not struggling in his grasp, either. This helped to prod him onward. "Before we met...I was always searchin' for somethin'...I dunno...but I would never find it. I never came close to...happiness...fulfillment...whatever." He ran a hand through his hair, dismissing his inability to express himself. She still had not moved, but her lip quivered slightly. Remarkably, he found the courage to finish what he had started. "Dana...I'm not very good with words...but...I...I've finally found what I'm looking fer...in...in you..." To his immense relief, she finally looked up, right at him. There were tears in her eyes. One dropped, her face twitching as it fought for control, and slid lazily down her cheek. It fell to splash on her hand, which was still in his, placed over his heart. "John...", she started, looking up at the ceiling in defiance to her tears. She blinked them away forcibly, and looked back at him. "I don't know...how...or...if..." She stopped again, struggling with each word, each syllable. He reached over to her and wiped the stray tears away. "I know," was all he said. He wanted to say so much more, but that was all he had to say...needed to say. So much between them had been said without words. Now was no exception. Except, to him, it all felt like an exception. His mind was whirling and his heart was on fire. She leaned into him, and he took her into his arms. A puzzle piece fell into its place, and his soul was whole again. He held her close until he couldn't bear the suspense any longer. He needed to look into her eyes; he had to know. He loosened his hold on her, and craned his chin into his neck to look down into her eyes. They were the most gorgeous blue he had ever seen, shimmering crystals, electrified bubbles that turned upward to meet his gaze. His gaze. His knees almost gave out when he saw what they **said**. Her eyes spoke of trust and honesty, of acceptance...and of love. Her hand reached up and brushed his cheek, slowly moving up to his ear. She smiled as she traced it, almost as though admiring her own private muse, and dropped her hand to his chest. He leaned in slowly, as to make sure that she would be comfortable with him, with the situation, every step of the way. His lips touched hers... He was startled by a noise behind him. His eyes snapped open as his forehead, still touching the wall in the hallway, lay where he had rested it several moments before. He looked up and the vision of Scully's lips before him was replaced with the sight of a short, bald man with glasses staring back at him, standing just a few feet away from Scully's locked door. "Can I help you, sir?" he said politely. Although he looked and spoke in the manner of a cherubic elf, he seemed somewhat skeptical and weary of Doggett's intentions. It took Doggett a moment to recover. He pulled himself up to his full height, clearing his throat quietly. "No...thank you...I...um...was just gonna leave. Sorry to have bothered ya." And with that, he was gone. Mr. Coeben shook his head. Being a landlord, he saw many things, especially at night. He knew who that man was. He'd seen him now and again. He was the FBI lady's new partner. And, like her other partner, he seemed to keep strange hours. "Another weird one...", he mumbled to himself as he shuffled down the hallway. "Got to hand it to that little lady...they sure do fall hard..." Inside her apartment, nestled in bed, Dana Scully slept soundly. She dreamt of a hallway...and of tears. And of a man she knows. His lips touched hers. A few blocks away, in a silver truck, that man spoke softly to himself. "I still owe you everything...I just didn't show you that today..." THE END