Title: Sweet Madness by Belle 

Author: Belle (BelleElle7 @aol.com aka Sarah) 

Classification: SRA 

Spoilers: Post-ep for all things, plus a few 
early season 2 references. 

Summary: Assuming something happened in 'all things' 
(as we all know did), Mulder and Scully need to sort 
through the questions and confusion to figure out what 
happens next. 

Distribution: Yes. Anywhere is fine. Just tell me, 
if it's not too much trouble. 

Disclaimer: They are not mine. They belong to some big 
suits (and CC). However, I do have disillusions that 
they do not belong to anyone.

Notes: I wrote this a long long time ago, just never 
bothered posting it.  Oh well! 


----------- ----------- ----------- -------- 

"It's easier to believe in this sweet madness, oh, 
this glorious sadness, that brings me to my knees..." 

--Sarah McLachlan, "Angel" 



The signs were there. They had always been there, showing 
them which path they were inevitably going to follow. But 
they had ignored them. Or rather, they had seen them as 
bright as day, but were afraid to do anything to change 
the path they were on, to change their fate. What if there 
was only one choice, she had said, and all the other ones 
were wrong, and there were signs to pay attention to? 

That night she had made one choice. She had stopped ignoring 
the signs. They both had. They had stopped ignoring and 
pretending, and, together, they had made a choice. One choice, 
that led to another, and another, until there were no more 
choices to be made. But neither had dared speak, neither 
had dared question their choices as they drowned themselves 
in unspoken devotion. 

Yet, inevitable to follow that choice, were questions and 
confusion, and no voices to ease the pain of either. 

Only silence. 

It was their first day back at work since it happened, 
and neither would acknowledge or mention or hint at any 
change between them. Except, everything had changed. 
Things that had once been so natural that they were practically 
unnoticeable, were now awkwardly obvious. 

He needed to know what she was thinking, what she was feeling. 
He needed to know what it all meant. But there was only 
silence. And it was killing him. It wasn't an absolute 
silence, but a silence of spoken emotion. Their eyes were 
never quiet, however. He could still read through hers 
like crystal. The signals, the signs, were numerous. 

There was no doubt in his mind that she was confused, just 
as he was. The day had been normal, boring, separate. She 
had found every excuse to get away from him. Or so it seemed 
to him. Even though he knew he was overreacting, finding 
unnecessary meaning in everything she did, he couldn't help 
it. In that one day, the air between them had reached the 
point where he could no longer breathe, no longer think. 

He needed to talk about it. She needed to, also. They needed 
to. But not there, not where the world surrounded them. 
They needed to find a neutral ground. It was late and there 
was nothing really to be done. Mulder sat at his desk, 
mindlessly playing with a pencil, twirling it between his 
fingers awkwardly as his mind ran through his thoughts. 

He had reached his decision. He needed to get her to open 
up to him. He needed to open up to her. They needed to clear 
the air between them. Because this tension, this awkwardness 
was exactly what they had been afraid of, what they had 
feared would be the ultimate divider between them if either 
of them rocked the boat. 

One day had been enough, and he would not let it go on for 
another. The door opened and he looked up from his mindless 
pencil acrobatics. She was there, just as he knew she would 
be. 

He stared at her as she began her ritual that would send her 
home: putting things away, gathering things she would take 
with her, preparing to leave him and leave the tension between 
them behind her. But he wasn't going to let her. 

"Scully..." he started, his tone of voice instantly recognizable 
to her. She looked up, knowing already what he was thinking, 
what he was about to say to her. "We need to talk..." 

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

9:03 p.m. 
Two Hours Later ...


And she had agreed with him. She had agreed to talk, because 
she was thinking the exact same things he was. And all day, 
she had been digging her way through the questions and the 
confusion just as he had been. And when he had suggested that 
they talk, she had been the one to suggest when and where. 

She had told him that there were a few things she needed to 
do first, but afterwards she would meet him. And so he sat 
upon a bench overlooking the water that flowed far beneath 
his feet. He stared at it, the night sky reflected with simple 
beauty upon its chaotic surface. 

It was their spot. It was their neutral ground. It was a 
reminder of their past, of the connection they had possessed 
even when their joining was still fragile and new, yet 
already bound by so much. Yet, despite all of this, he hadn't 
bothered to come there in a while. There really wasn't a reason to. 

But when she had suggested that this was where they could 
talk, he couldn't help but see it as perfect. And so he 
sat, waiting for her. He was slightly hunched over, his 
hands clasped between his knees as he anxiously looked out 
at the water. His breathing, his body, nothing about him 
was in any state of calm. 

He was nervous. He didn't know why, after all, it was 
just Scully. Just Scully... the words reverberated in his
 mind, and he wondered if there was such a thing as "just 
Scully." She possessed to many sides, too many mercurial 
aspects to be summed up so succinctly. 

To him, she was a puzzle that every now and then he believed 
to have solved, thinking that he had her figured out, only 
to have her disclose to him something else that would force 
him to reassess everything, to start the puzzle all over. 
That was what he was doing now. 

"Is this seat taken?" a familiar voice broke into his reverie. 

Mulder looked up with a sudden sense of deja vu. Scully stood 
above him, looking down at where he sat. He couldn't help but 
see how different she was, how the years had changed her, both 
her body and soul. And at the same time, he could see how some 
things about her would never change. 

He stayed awkwardly silent, just looking at her and she took 
the chance to claim her place on his left, next to him on the 
bench. For a moment, she just stared out at the water, like 
she always did. He followed suit, returning his gaze to the 
night water, dark and beautiful. Like that, each remained silent, 
listening to the sounds of the water and the city in the distance, 
waiting for the other to say something. 

"I just need to know one thing, Scully," he stated out of the 
blue, his voice finally breaking into the silence out of sheer 
madness. "I need to know if it was a mistake or not." 

"No," she responded convincingly as she turned to look at 
him. "It wasn't a mistake, Mulder. I don't regret what happened." 
He looked into her face, reading the sincerity there, before 
he looked back at the water. She heard him breathe out as he 
looked outward, desperate to calm the tension and anxiety. 

She could see that he was visibly relieved, as if that one 
question had been pounding into every part of his mind and 
heart all day, and in one word, she had taken all of that 
weight from him. Except, there was still something that he 
was struggling with, something he didn't quite understand. 

"Then why did you leave me, Scully?" he asked, not taking 
his eyes from the water. His tone was gentle and questioning,
but behind it, she could hear a spark of bitterness. He 
pretended to understand why he had awoken alone, every trace 
of her gone except for a memory, except for her faint imprint 
on his pillow. He told himself all sorts of rational things in 
her defense. She needed time to think, needed to sort her thoughts, 
needed to get away from him. Or maybe she just had things to do. 

But he realized that he didn't really know. He wanted her to 
explain it to him. But she was silent. She didn't know how to. 
She looked in front of her, suddenly intrigued with the concrete 
at her feet. 

"I don't know why," she answered honestly, her voice soft 
and reluctant. "I just couldn't stay, Mulder." 

"You could have said goodbye," he continued, the bitterness 
in his voice growing more pronounced, "or you could've left 
a note. Isn't that the one- night-stand protocol?" 

"I didn't tell you goodbye, Mulder," she countered in her defense, 
as she turned to look at him, "because there was no reason to.
 Because I'm not going anywhere. I don't want it to be like that." 

"Like what?" he inquired softly, his eyes meeting hers. 

"Like a one time occurrence, like a mistake, like something I 
needed to explain my way out of," she desperately tried to explain. 
"Because it wasn't any of those things. It was so much more than 
that, Mulder." 

He remained silent for a moment, letting her words drive into 
his self- absorbed fears, until finally, he realized what she 
was saying. What he knew to be true himself, but somewhere 
between his ego and his heart, that obvious fact got lost. 
The obvious fact of what was between them on a level so deep 
it was hidden. Until now. 

"I guess this was bound to happen..." he stated softly as he 
turned once again to look at the river. 

"You don't sound happy that it did..." 

He turned to her, hearing the anxiety in her voice. "No, it's 
not like that at all, Scully..." he told her, deeply afraid 
that he had given her the wrong idea. "I just... I don't want 
this to change things." 

"Neither do I." He continued to look upon her, his face displaying 
a softer expression, one that possessed a smile that one could 
only find if they looked long enough. His eyes possessed the same 
hidden mysticism before he looked down at their laps upon the bench. 

"Scully," he started cautiously, his gaze still avoiding hers, 
looking down as he grasped for the courage he needed to explain 
what was racing through his mind, "you should know that I still 
love you the same as I did before this happened. And whether or 
not we ever do anything again, that won't change." His eyes 
returned to her, afraid for what he would find. It was her turn 
to release the anxiety. He hadn't realized it, but what he had 
said to her was exactly what she needed to hear. 

Because she wasn't sure of anything, whether she wanted this 
or not; whether they should do this or not. And knowing that 
he would still be there for her despite her decision eased every 
fear that had possessed her. She was silent, gaining back control 
over herself in order to voice her thoughts. 

"Are you in love with me, Mulder?" she asked him, nearly out 
of the blue, her voice perfectly calm, her tone perfectly Scully. 

He was taken aback by her question, just as she knew he would 
be. He stared at her, and she could see his mind fearfully race 
to find the perfect answer to the question he almost seemed to 
dread. It was a question he could not lie to, one that he could 
not hide from. She watched as he swallowed down, and bit the 
inside of his cheek, desperate for control as he finally voiced his 
answer. 

"Madly." 

That one word sent chills down her spine, and a wave of 
something unidentifiable, yet strangely familiar, seemed 
to channel through her. She searched his eyes desperately, 
finding the raw honesty in them. And as the seconds past, 
she saw in them the absolute anxiety that grew as she remained 
silent. 

Finally, she smiled at him, afraid, yet honest, melting the 
apprehension from his features, until he looked at her with 
the same hidden smile. After a moment, she looked down, nearly 
embarrassed. She looked at their hands that lay between them, 
that had at one point joined. It was so natural, so unconsciously 
done, that she hadn't even noticed. 

"Do you want this?" she asked him after a few seconds of silence, 
her tone steady and serious. His hand seemed to mold deeper into 
hers, as if he was noticing it for the first time, too. She 
returned her eyes once again to his, awaiting his answer. 

"It's not about what I want, Scully..." he explained. "It's 
about us." 

"I know that," she agreed, "but I want to know what you want." 

He sighed in contemplation as he searched for a way to explain. 
"I want this to work," he stated simply. "If you don't want this, 
then I don't. But if you do, then nothing could keep me from you." 

She had almost expected such a response from him. It wasn't as 
if it was noncommittal, but it was open and undefined, placing 
everything on her. His silence seemed to demand from her the 
answer to the same question. She resisted as long as she could, 
until the persistent silence became too much. 

"I don't know what I want, Mulder," she explained softly, a 
hint of fear in her voice. "In a perfect world, this wouldn't be 
so hard. There would be no doubt in my mind. But I don't live in
a perfect world." He nodded in understanding as he looked at 
her, before turning his head back to the water. He was silent 
for a few moments as he stared out at the world that surrounded them. 

"I don't live in a perfect world, either, Scully," he spoke quietly 
as he stared outward. "For a long time, I didn't believe that 
there was such a thing. I guess I still don't." He paused a moment, 
sighing deeply as he gathered his thoughts. "My life is far from 
perfect," he continued sadly, turning to look at her. "You know
 that, probably more than you deserve to. But ever since you 
came into it, Scully, my world has never been the same. You've 
given me hope that maybe I don't need a perfect life to be happy. 
I just need you." 

He watched as her face grew into a palette of emotions as she 
stared at him. Her eyes and everything about her seemed to 
latch onto what he was saying. All of her strength, all of her 
stability was being slowly broken down by the profound honesty 
of his words. 

"You asked me what I want..." he continued cautiously when she 
wouldn't say anything, "and I won't lie to you, Scully. I want 
you. But what I want more than to be your lover is to be your 
friend. But most of all, I just want for you to be happy." 

At that moment, she realized that she had forgotten what it was 
to be happy. It had been so long since she had even allowed 
herself to feel happiness. It had been so long since she had 
allowed herself to feel love. She forgot what it was like to 
be utterly lost in something to the level of absolute purity. 
She had always set limits, kept boundaries maintained. But now 
she was beginning to question their purpose. She was beginning 
to question herself. She was staring down at her lap, deep in 
thought as Mulder waited patiently for her to say something. 

"Scully..." he gently broke into her silence. "I want whatever 
it is that would make you happy, but I need to know what that 
is. I need to know what you want." 

She looked back up into his face at his question, not really 
knowing how to respond. She stared at him, desperate to let go 
of the limits and boundaries, desperate to find what it was 
that she wanted. She stared at his face, the expression of 
hopefulness , and fear, and a million other things all spread 
across the familiar features. His nose, his mouth, his chin, 
his forehead, and a million other things that would be etched 
into her mind forever. 

And, now, etched into the memory of her lips, of her hands, as 
she had discovered each within their grasp in one all too short 
night. She could see that he was growing awkwardly uncomfortable 
under her staring eyes and she looked away, turning them to the 
water before finally responding to his burning question. 

"It's been a long time since I've been honest with myself about 
what I wanted, Mulder, let alone allowed myself to have it," 
she started to explain finally, her voice ringing with a sadness 
in his ears. "It's always been hard for me to be honest about 
things like that, especially to you." She looked back at him, 
a strange, sad smile upon her face. "I'm pretty sure you know 
that." His features looked upon her with an understanding that 
he did. He had always understood that expressing what lay beyond 
her guarded heart had been a struggle for her that she had, 
at most times, avoided all together. "And I'm sorry," she stated 
sadly as she looked down once again. "I'm sorry it's taken so long 
for me to be honest about this..." 

"Honest about what?" he asked gently. 

She turned her face up to his once again. He couldn't honestly 
be so clueless to what she was talking about, and she knew that. 
She knew that he was just trying to get her to say it, to finally 
be honest with him. "About the fact that I love you, Mulder," 
she finally confessed, taking a deep breath. "About the fact that 
I am *in* love with you." 

Even though she knew that he was aware of those obvious facts, 
something in the power of actually saying them out loud struck a 
chord in him. He stared back at her with an expression that was 
priceless, like that of an innocent boy who couldn't believe the 
girl next door had a crush on him. But she did. 

"You are, Scully?" he asked her, finally managing to gulp out 
the words. Of course she was. He knew that. They wouldn't be 
sitting together having this conversation if she wasn't. But 
something in the way the words rang in his ears made him suddenly 
dumbfounded . The seconds past as they stared at each other, as s
he searched for the right response to his anxious question. 

"Madly," she finally whispered. 

To that, he could only smile, his lips curving up gently to form 
a soft, familiar grin. His eyes looked upon her with the same 
familiar contentment , as if he could spend the rest of his days 
just looking at her. His ardent gaze finally succeeded in forcing 
her own to fall away from him shyly, her hair falling protectively a
cross the side of her face, shielding her from him. 

As she stared down at her feet, she felt rather than saw his 
hand break away from hers. And she felt rather than saw his 
fingers gently sweep away her curtain of hair behind her ear. 
His touch eventually made her look back at him, and he saw sadly 
that a hint of fear had returned to her thoughts, corrupting her 
pristine features. 

"You deserve so much more than you allow yourself, Scully," he 
whispered deeply after a moment, his fingers gently smoothing 
down her hair. "You deserve whatever makes you happy. And I want 
to give you that, but you still haven't told me what that is." 

"It's you, Mulder. I want you," she confirmed as she looked at 
him with a sadness in her eyes. "But there's no guarantee that 
allowing myself what I want will make me happy." 

"I can't guarantee that I will make all your problems go away, 
Scully. I can't guarantee that I will make you happy, but at 
least let me try. Let me be there for you." 

"You are," she responded softly, as she tried to smile for him. 

"And I'll always be." His hand had since fallen to the nape of 
her neck, resting there as his thumb smoothed gently over her 
jaw. Heaven only knew how badly he wanted to kiss her then. 
Not like the impromptu and intense kisses they had given into 
that night, but softer, more careful, gentler. He wanted to kiss 
her soft and slow, full of meaning and significance so that she
would know beyond a doubt that he meant every word he said to her. 

He wanted to prove to her the sincerity in his heart, the depth 
of his promise. He wanted to prove to her that no matter what, 
he really would always be there for her. And so he did, exactly 
as he imagined it. His other hand came up to the other side of 
her neck and gently brought her closer to him. His mouth softly 
found hers, and hers found his as if she had been expecting this, 
as if she had been reading his thoughts. 

And he showed her, and he proved to her that he had meant every 
word and that nothing in their not- so-perfect world could ever 
change that. After only a few short seconds, he unwillingly 
broke away from her to look into her eyes. They remained closed 
a few seconds longer before lazily reopening to him. And then 
she smiled at him. 

She had received his message. She knew everything that he needed 
her to. There was nothing else to be said between them. There was 
nothing else that needed to be done. He had faith that the rest 
would fall into place when the time came. He had faith that everything 
else, they could leave up to fate. After a long moment, he finally 
let his hands fall from her and she stood up, leaving the place at 
his side cold and vacant. Turning back to him as he remained seated, 
she placed a hand on his shoulder near the side of his neck. 

He looked up at her as she stood over him, wishing that she wouldn't 
leave so soon, wishing that she would never leave. His eyes pleaded 
with her not to go, not to leave him alone once again. He could see 
in hers that she didn't really want to leave him, but she didn't know 
how to stay either. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said reluctantly , her hand still on 
his shoulder. "Okay, Mulder?" He nodded despondently, his gaze looking 
down from hers. But she didn't go anywhere. There was still something s
he needed to say. "Mulder..." she said, her nervous tone forcing him 
to look back at her. "I promise that next time, you won't wake up 
alone." 

Before he could say a word, before he could fully comprehend what 
she had said to him, her hand upon his shoulder slid off of him, 
trailing for a second along his face before leaving him entirely. 
As he watched her slowly walk away from him, away back into their 
imperfect world that they shared, a smile slowly spread across his 
face as he realized what she had meant in those last words. He knew 
that he had hope that there would be a next time. And he knew then 
that he would never be alone. Because she was there. 

She would always be. 

-----------------

Fin! 

Comments, Suggestions, etc... I take any and all... BelleElle7@aol.com

Belle