From: janestclair20@hotmail.com, Date: Mon, 23 Feb 1998 19:07:09 GMT Subject: Falling Is Like This.StClair.atxc Title: Falling Is Like This Author: Jane St. Clair Rating: NC-17 Classification: SRA Spoilers: None Keywords: Mulder/Scully Summary: Mulder finally lets go. ----------- Disclaimer: I don't own Mulder or Scully, they belong to Chris Carter and 1013. The poem belongs to e.e. cummings... I don't own it, either. Author's Notes: Well, this is my first attempt at a story. I don't know what that might imply, but it's a fact. Any feedback can be sent to janestclair20@hotmail.com, and all will be responded to, with the exception of flames. Oh yeah, and thanks for reading. ----------- "let it go- the smashed word broken open vow or the oath cracked length wise- let it go it was sworn to go let them go- the truthful liars and the false fair friends and the boths and neithers- you must let them go they were born to go let all go- the big small middling tall bigger really the biggest and all things- let all go dear so comes love -- e.e. cummings" She was worried about him. He wasn't taking this case well, it had struck close to home, like so many of the investigations that they worked on, and he had seemed tired. She couldn't blame him, all of the false leads and false hopes were exhausting. He had seemed so melancholy when they had entered their motel rooms that evening, as though the darkness in which they lived had finally crept in and stained his soul, and her heart had ached for him. When she looked into his eyes and saw the pain and resignation that had taken up residence there she wanted nothing more than to hold him, to kiss him and comfort him. But he wasn't ready for that, he couldn't open himself to her completely. So she didn't ask. Instead she went into her room, took a long bath and read. Anything to keep her mind from wandering to the pain her partner was feeling or to the turns her life had taken. Both she and Mulder had made sacrifices willingly, and if you asked her in the daylight hours, she would tell you that she didn't regret them, that she would do it all again. But sometimes her life changed color when the light shifted, until she wasn't so sure she liked the shade she saw when she looked at it, and it didn't seem to fit quite as well as she needed it to. In dim light, she wondered what she had seen in the dressing room mirror when she decided to make this purchase. And in her experience too much introspective second-guessing wasn't good for her sanity, so she relied upon the rattle of ineffective motel radiators and the laughter of tipsy neighbors outside her door to keep her mind occupied. Tonight, it hadn't worked. So she found herself on her second floor balcony, staring out at the dirty water of the sewage dump-cum-lake behind the motel, watching the reflections of the parking-lot lights become warped by the water as the wind strained to knock branches off trees. That's when she saw him. He was walking out of the motel towards the pond, his hair a mess, his tie hanging off of his body and dangling behind him. He was carrying stacks of paper, notebooks and cassette tapes, and the lapping edges of the water were curling around his thighs before he stopped. She sighed her resignation, pulled on her shabby motel robe and grabbed her keys before slipping out of her room and down the stairs. Mulder was a passionate man, for all his stoic, sometimes stubborn bravery, and she knew that even he could not bear the burdens he was carrying alone forever. This confrontation had perhaps been inevitable. When she made her way outside and walked up behind him, he was still just standing in the pond. He looked deceivingly calm, even as he began to tear up the papers, flinging them into the water around him, dumping notebook after notebook. She stood on the shore and watched, until he was done, then waded in after him and put one hand on his arm. He jumped. "Scully?" he said softly, with a waver in his voice. "Sc-scully." "What are you doing, Mulder? Why?" she could feel his shoulder start to shake under her hand, then the jump and catch as his breath hitched. He looked down at the bits of paper floating away and blinked slowly, then again, harder. "Oh my God..." then again louder and more panicked, as he began thrashing around, trying to gather the papers, trying to save them. "Oh my God.... Scully. Help me." His voice caught in his throat. The papers were mostly lost to him, scattered across the lake by the wind. She backed out of the water, her pajama bottoms soaked and smelly, her eyes focused on her partner. She would wait for this to be over, she would be here when he was done. It ended as quickly as it had started, he blinked again, then simply turned and walked back into the hotel. She stared at the pieces of paper, sinking in the filth of the pond for a moment before turning and following him into the hotel. He was sitting on his bed with his head in his hands when she walked in the room. "I can't do this." he said, without looking up. "Do what, Mulder?" she asked. "What were you trying to do?" "I can't live like this, Scully. I can't live..." She moved to sit next to him on the bed, but didn't touch him. His beautiful hazel eyes were not focused and she could see tears gathering in them, being blinked away before they could fall. "I was trying to let go," he whispered, "but I couldn't. I can't live with all of this anymore, but I can't leave it behind." "Oh, Mulder," she said, reaching out to rest a hand on the bowed back of his head, and found that she could not come up with more than that to say. She wanted to let him know that it was okay, that he could ask for help. She wanted to take this pain away from him, but for a moment, she found herself immobilized by fear of showing too much, of saying the wrong thing, of seeming to pity him when it was simply love. That is, she was immobilized until he turned his eyes to her. There was such pain and such longing in those eyes that she felt it deep in her own heart. He looked at her as if he were begging her to understand. "I want to be normal," he said, "and I want to be able to be with you. I want to let all of it go, so I can love you the way you deserve. But I'm scared. I'm scared to let go, and I'm scared to hold on." The tone of his voice broke her resolve, and she leaned forward, pressing her lips against his forehead to comfort him, as though he was a small child. "Oh, Mulder... I want to be with you, too. But you don't have to do this," she gestured to the wet papers discarded on the table. She turned her head and realized that they were still inches apart. She could smell his cologne and his sweat, and she could feel the warm breeze of his breath pass across her cheek. She stared at his lips, watching as his tongue came out to swipe across the full bottom one, then caught the bead of sweat resting on the cupid's arrow of his upper lip. "I want you to be happy," she breathed, then leaned forward to press another kiss to his face, this time farther down his jawline, against the scratchy stubble of his 5 o'clock shadow. "Scully," he whispered. She kissed him again, below his ear this time, a feather light caress. "Scully." Her bottom lip caught on his chin as she slid her lips across his face. He pulled her lips away from his face, resting his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily. He closed his eyes for a minute, and she started to pull away from him. "I'm sorry, Mulder. I shouldn't have done that, it was-" his lips crushing hers ended the thought. She grunted her surprise into his mouth, and felt his long slim fingers sliding up her cheeks, through her hair, and the dampness of the pond water seeping into her shirt. Her hands wrapped around his wrists, and then slid slowly down his arms, flattening the slightly wiry hair there. He pulled away and looked at her, and she waited for him to say something, but instead, she felt the silken glide of his lips on her cheek, then down to her neck. She threw her head back and moaned low in her throat, and feeling her skin vibrate under his lips made Mulder moan. He lowered her back onto the bed, lying on his side next to her, and covered her mouth with his again. This time he nipped lightly at her lower lip, then ran his tongue over it, pressing his way into her mouth. The feeling of her hot, smooth tongue gliding over his for the first time made him shudder, and the kiss became deeper and more passionate, almost frenzied, until she finally pulled away. "More, Mulder... I need more... I can't get enough of you," she said, and he smiled down at her, working, the buttons of her top free. He trailed his fingers down the sides of her breasts, feeling her skin against the backs of his hands, then he bent down, pressing a hot, wet kiss over her heart, then sliding sideways to take one nipple in his mouth. She arched up and growled, and he glanced up at her, feeling his cock harden in his pants at the unexpected sound. He moved over to the other nipple and began to suckle, slowly grinding his hips against hers in the rythem that his mouth had set. Looking down, she could see the moisture on his forehead, the hollowing of his cheeks, and the shifting of the lean muscles of his ass under his pants as he worked his hips. She could feel the heat building inside her as her hips began to grind in counterpoint. He was so beautiful. She began working on the buttons of his dress shirt, the pop of the buttons adding percussion to the beat already pulsing between them. Her nails slid over his nipples, and she marveled at the heat of his skin. She pushed him over onto his back, continuing the agonizingly slow grind of their hips as she began licking and kissing his chest. His moans echoed through the room, and, determined to get more of that reaction, she slid her hand down between their bodies, feeling her own heat grind into the back of her hand and she caressed the bulge in his pants. Mulder whimpered under her, amazed at the feeling of his partner's hand on his body, her mouth touching him. She began working on his belt, ridding him of both his pants and boxers before rolling off of him and onto her feet. Standing in front of him, Scully began to roll her pajama pants down her hips, pushing them off until they pooled around her feet. Mulder leaned up onto his elbows, and the sight of his long, lean body with his hard cock resting against his stomach was incredibly arousing. She couldn't resist bending over and running her tongue up it, from his balls to the head, then sliding her mouth back down, pressing the slightly rough skin of her tongue into the underside the whole time. He bucked up into her mouth and threw his head back, enjoying the texture of her lips sliding against him and the tight wet heat of her mouth. His hips began pumping, rocking the bed and causing the springs to begin to creak in a staccato rythem. He could feel himself fast approaching the edge as he looked down at the pale body of his partner, bent over his cock, her back arched, her hair falling into her face. As he felt his balls tighten under him, he began to push her away. She pulled her mouth from him and looked up at him. "Mulder, please, let me do this." she said. "I want this to be good for you." He was breathing heavily, trying to resist begging her to put her mouth back on him. "I need to taste you," she whispered, and he groaned and fell back onto the bed, in danger of cumming from just the sound of those words. She bent back down, sliding her mouth aver him again, using one hand to caress the base of his cock. The suction of her mouth was unbearably sweet, and it wasn't long before his balls were tightening as he fell over the edge and exploded into her mouth. She moaned and cleaned him off, swallowing every drop, then kissing her way up his thighs and leaning her head onto his chest. "Oh, Scully," he whispered, running his fingers through her hair. "I know," she said, moving up to kiss him gently, letting him taste himself on her lips. "I'll catch you... if you let go, I'll always catch you." The End