Unsentimental Journey
By Christine Leigh

Summary: Scully POV spanning seasons one through eight.
Rating: PG
Category: V
Spoilers: Allusions to various episodes.

I wanted to dance with you. I stood in the shadows watching the two of you, so sleek together out there on the floor, and I wanted to feel your arms around me. Instead, I felt like an awkward adolescent.

I regret teasing you later by affecting her accent. What a horrible woman.


If you're dead, Mulder, then go. I don't want to see you in my dreams, nightmares, whatever. Visit someone else -- find a believer. Melissa would welcome you. I want to reclaim my life, but I don't seem to know what to do next. How do I 'unbelieve' what I know by all logic must be true? Damn you. Let me go.


Today was the last straw. I'm well aware that you can pay the rent and that you are not starving, so I hope you find whatever it is you think you want or need on your so-called vacation. If, after you return, you should by chance come to really see me, well -- fine. I'm here, for now.

I wonder if you recall the first time we were in Philadelphia? But, of course, you remember everything. I only agreed to see the Liberty Bell because I gave in to that note in your voice -- two parts come hither, one part little boy lost. I'm no longer Pavlovian where that note is concerned. Play it all you want. This choir girl has left.


Somehow I've tricked myself into thinking that I know you. What a joke that notion is, and what a fool I've been. I let my heart take over -- something I haven't done since Ethan. That ended badly, and so now, has this. The constant echo must be a welcome change of pace for you. Do you still love her?

You've been a dear friend, Mulder. I wonder if the day will ever come when that will not sound so obscene.


The light of day. I've always found that expression annoying for some reason. Well, Mulder, it's dawn. Again. I know you're weary. I am too, and I don't want us to say anything further to each other that we will end up regretting. So, in the light of day, I think that if we are to continue working together, that I'll step back, just a little. And if there is ever to be anything more between the two of us . . . well, actually, I don't want to think about that now. Visiting the end of the Earth is not something I'd ever considered before, not that this is significant. You came to find me, and whatever age I live to be, that is all that will ever matter. I wish I could corroborate what you saw. I would like nothing more than to be able to do so, but I can't.


If the reassignment to Salt Lake City had come down last week instead of last year, I'd have taken it. What is this spell she casts over you, Mulder? Was it that good with her? I would not have been sorry to see her burn along with the rest.


I stopped thinking about marriage after my abduction -- I stopped thinking about many of the things that, until then, had been part of my life plan. There was no plan to speak of, after that point. Today, though, for just a moment as I stood on your doorstep, I felt it. No church or lace veil could have made it seem more real, Mulder. Touchstone talk aside, you are the love of my life. That's no girlish sentiment; it's just the truth.


It will never be right again. There will be a new life some months from now that is the result of that night that I have resolved to blot from my memory. I can't carry on with it there, and apparently I have enough left in me from my upbringing to keep me believing that I must. There are times that I hate you. God, help me.


Mulder, you're on a path that I hope will lead back to something recognizable in our lives. I'm not sure what that will be, but I have faith that you will know it when you see it. I do believe, though, that I'm coming to see a semblance of what was once good between us. Do you see this at all, or am I grasping? The surety of what you felt for me was something that I never thought I would question, but too much has intervened in the past year, and that knowledge now seems as if from a very distant past.

You are still the love of my life. That remains.

~ End ~

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This story is (c) Copyright 2005 by Christine Leigh. "The X-Files" and its characters are the property of the Fox Network and Ten-Thirteen Productions and are borrowed here without profit or intent for profit.