untitled
'WHOSE
WORLD?'
By:
Sally Bahnsen
"The
world didn't end."
"No it didn't."
The words keep repeating in my head. The look on his face, the
feel of his lips. I have to ask myself, whose world? The world as
we know it? The physical, scientific world, created at the
begining of time? No. That world didn't end. But what about my
world? The one that exists in my mind. The world I have been
trying to hold together, build walls around. The one with
channels and moats around it to keep the ever encroaching
emotions and feelings that cannot be dealt with far away. That
world ended well and truly in a few short moments, several beats
of the heart, one breath. The walls crumbled, the channels dried
up and the emotions rushed in like soldiers invading a castle.
What of our partnership? How will I ever be able to look at him
the same, act the same, be the same? As the world crossed into a
new millenium, a new dimension in time, I crossed into a new
dimension in our relationship. Mulder. My partner. My friend. On
more than one occasion my life saver. But who will he be now?
Nine hours have passed since he kissed me. A chaste, platonic
kiss I'm sure. One I have thought about many times over in my
mind, where it was safe to consider such things. Now, wanted or
not it is all different.
Initially I was surprised, pleasantly surprised. I'd be a fool to
deny the times I have watched his mouth move while talking,
imagining the feel of his lips on mine. Would they be soft? How
would he taste? It was just a fantasy, not one I ever
contemplated becoming a reality. Not really. Now I know. But at
what cost?
At first it didn't feel any different. I dropped him home,
reminding him to take his medication. Our normal routine. As soon
as I was alone though, that's when I knew. I could feel my heart
pounding in my chest. An excitement growing in my stomach. I was
starving at the hospital but the mere thought of food was enough
to turn my stomach. There was a tangible need, an ache. All these
things were coming at me and now, after the night to think things
through, the excitement has turned into desire. There is a
physical pain, I want him, I want to be with him. I'm almost
shocked at my own admission. I've never really WANTED him before.
What we've had has always been enough, aside from idle curiosity
of course. But now that I've tasted the forbidden fruit. Will
simple friendship ever be enough again?
I will never be the same. It is the morning of a new age, a new
beginning, but for me I fear it is the beginning of the end.
Mulder will see I'm different. It doesn't matter how much I try
to act like nothing happened I know beyond all doubt that what I
am feeling will show through.
My need to prove myself in a world that is male dominated has
always driven me to do my best, be independent, prove that I can
hold my own and protect my partner in a crisis. Will that still
be my motivation or will I be trying to impress HIM? Seek HIS
approval? Will I be able to stand calmly by and watch him walk
into dangerous situations? To remain objective, continue to put
his work to the test of science or will this new situation hinder
that ability, afraid of conflict?
I am torn between joy and sorrow. The joy of promise, what it
could all mean. The sorrow of wondering if our partnership can
survive this, or will it all be so different that it is
impossible to work together? What will it mean to hold him and
comfort him? Is that still possible now or will I be too afraid
of sending him the wrong message? The little caresses we share,
the hand on my back, the times he pushes a wayward strand of hair
off my face. Am I going to read things into that that aren't
there?
What if he is injured? Can I care for him with the professional
detachment that might be necessary to save his life or will I
become a jibbering wreck? So much has changed, has been risked.
Restlessness invades my mind and my body. Sleep is no longer a
possibility. As tired as I was last night the exhilaration and
apprehension that whirled in my emotions prevented me from
relaxing into sleep. And now, once again, although still tired,
the nervous energy flowing through me only continues to fuel my
thoughts of Mulder.
I get up and pace the floor. The need to be with him, to talk to
him is the only focus I have. I look around my apartment, at my
clothes, carelessly strewn on the floor. My answering machine
blinking a message at me. Probably my mom. I should call her. But
not now, I don't want to talk. My concentration is all consumed
with Mulder. Our partnership, the future.
What will I say to him next time we meet? Will I be tongue tied,
unable to meet his eyes. Blushing like some lovesick school girl?
The fact that I could be reduced to this is almost enough to make
me sick. My stomach aches with the uncertainty of it all. I groan
and collapse into the sofa, hugging my knees to my chest. And
then I cry. Mourning. Mourning what we had, what might never be
again. It will all be so different.
A sound at the door. Was it a knock? I wipe at my face with my
hand. What am I doing? What am I allowing myself to become?
I move to the door and peek throught the spy hole. My god! My
heart leaps into my throat. The cramps in my stomach intensify.
It's Mulder. I try to smooth my sleep mussed hair. Wipe at my
eyes again. He cannot know I've been crying.
Almost as if in slow motion, as if I am outside my body- I watch
my hand grip the door knob and turn. The door swings open. I
paste a smile on my face and hope it looks natural.
"Hey." I say.
"Scully..." And he falls through the door, collapsing
at my feet.
I am slow to react. So slow. I don't know what I was expecting
but this was furthest from my mind.
He groans and I snap to attention. His hair is plastered to his
forehead, glued there by his own sweat. His cheeks flushed and
bright. He moves, rolls to his left side, away from his injured
arm.
Mulder!
He looks terrible. I move to his side in an instant. His face is
so hot. He stares up at me through fever glazed eyes. How on
earth did he get here in this condition?
"Scully....hurts."
"I know Mulder. But its okay. I'm here. Let's get you off
the floor."
It's a struggle but he gets himself up and I help him to the
couch. He collapses into the same spot that I was sitting not two
minutes ago.
"Mulder, you're burning up. What the hell happened?"
"Don't know. Woke up...this morning....Felt
like...shit."
"Where's the anti biotics you were given last night?"
My thoughts are rushing around in my head. How could he get like
this so soon? This shouldn't be happening."
"Can't find them....must've left them...in
your....car."
Great.
"Scully..."
"Yes Mulder?"
"I'm gonna be..." And he gags. Shit. I run to the
kitchen for a bowl. By the time I get back he is doubled over the
arm of the couch, heaving for all he's worth. I push the bowl
under his mouth and rest my hand on his forehead. I guess he had
no appetite last night either, nothing comes up.
The heaves subside and he flops his head onto the arm of the of
the couch, breathing heavily. I remove the bowl, returning it to
the kitchen. While I'm there I rinse out a clean wash cloth and
take it back to him, wiping his mouth and his face.
I crouch down beside him and take his hands in mine.
"Mulder?"
"MMmm"
"I want you to come and lie down on my bed. I think your arm
might be infected. That's what's wrong with you. I'm going to go
and see if your meds are in the car. I'll start you on those and
give you something for the fever. See if you can eat something,
dry crackers, anything, just so your not taking medication on an
empty stomach. Okay? Do you think you can manage that?"
He nods his head.
I pat his arm and tell him I'll be right back.
As I head to the car I feel a smile spreading across my face. I
survived my first encounter with Mulder after 'the kiss'. It is
so apt that it should be with him injured and sick. I guess this
millenium is not going to be so different to the last one after
all.
THE END
DISCLAIMERr:
As much as I want them, I willingly admit that all the known XF
characters belong to CC and 1013 productions. Not mine, not at
all.
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