|From: X-Files-Fanfic List
Subject: Clean Break (1/1) by QofMush
Date: Saturday, July 04, 1998 2:47 PM
Clean Break (1/1)
Classification:V, MulderAngst Ahoy
Time Line: Yup, it's a Flickfic. This takes place while Mulder was reading
Spoilers: Fight the Future (FITA!)
Archive: Gossamer yes - anywhere else, just let me know first, please?
Acknowledgements: A big ole thank you to anyone out there who has
Feedback: Wouldn't miss it for the world - firstname.lastname@example.org
Summary: Random thoughts on a park bench.
Sitting on the bench, pretending to read the paper, Fox Mulder waited for her to approach.
He knew she was in the midst of a hearing to determine their destiny once again. Scully was persistent, and he was well aware that her renewed investment in the X-Files would translate into a passionate plea in front of the board. A plea for yet another chance to discover the Truth.
A chance he didn't want.
What Mulder hadn't told Scully in all those conversations they'd had on the way back from Antarctica - - conversations filled with questions and answers, truths and discoveries, was that he'd made a decision that would affect them both. A decision that was the most difficult he'd ever made, and one that only a few days before, he'd been violently opposed to.
They had to separate.
A few days earlier, Scully severed their bond. She quit. And, he stood in that hallway frantically trying to reweave the frayed rope and convince her to stay. Today, he wielded the knife.
Why did he think this time the cut would be clean?
Oh, he was aware that Scully would put up a fight. Right now, she was working very hard to get the division reopened. Scully was nothing if not loyal, and he knew she somehow felt indebted to him for saving her life. He knew her fight to reopen the X-Files was a way for her to express her gratitude. Thanks was the last thing he wanted or deserved.
Once she thought about it, she would realize her initial decision to quit had been the right one. Somewhere along the journey home, he'd realized she was right to want to leave.
Maybe it was coming close to losing her again.
He didn't fool himself that it was anything more than divine luck that had led him to Scully in Antarctica. The unholy intervention of an anonymous man with a cure and her location had helped.
How many times would he have to rely on the kindness of strangers to save her?
How many times would he think he would be too late until he finally was?
He wasn't a gambling man, but Mulder was sure he couldn't forever bet against the odds and win.
An Africanized Honeybee.
Not to mention countless other times when she'd been in danger and he'd reached her just in time or she'd saved herself before he could get there.
Oh, Dana Scully could certainly take care of herself. She was a damned fine agent (a better one than he) and had saved his ass a thousand times over. Their line of work naturally put them in danger. That part he could handle. While it was difficult to separate personal from professional feelings, for the most part he could look at her as his partner and distance himself.
But, when she was put in danger as a direct result of his personal quest, he couldn't live with it. And this had been one of those times. They'd gotten too close and she'd again paid the price.
Why didn't they ever take him?
Why was it always her?
He knew the answer.
They knew his weakness.
Was it that transparent?
He wasn't going to let them continue to use her to get to him. It angered him to think that all those years ago when they sent Duane Barry after her, they had known, even before he was fully aware, how much she meant to him. And how he was crippled without her.
He'd have to adjust.
Sighing and leaning back into the bench, he tossed the paper aside and began to formulate his plan.
In a way, he was rooting for her to be unsuccessful at the hearing. Let the FBI play bad guy and relocate her to Salt Lake City. The Mormons were boring, but she'd be safe from him.
If that didn't work, he'd push her away. He'd sever the rope. Unfortunately, thanks to her confession a few days ago, it appeared she was more than a little insecure about how much she really did mean to him. Was he really that much of a selfish bastard that she didn't know?
Don't answer that.
Knowing Scully, she'd probably think his hallway confessions were a last ditch effort to get her to stay because he needed her for her Science. Of course, they had yet to talk about that conversation or the interrupted kiss.
It was laughable.
He was tired. Tired of hiding his feelings for her, tired of looking for Samantha, tired of his whole damned quest. What had it gotten him? Nothing. Not only that, it had gotten the only woman in the world who meant anything to him almost killed too many times.
Too many times.
He'd tell her the truth. The bottom line. He couldn't watch her die because of him. She had to listen. She had to believe. She had to leave. She had to leave without a fight.
Because if she fought him, he knew he wouldn't have the strength to sever the bond.
Picking up the paper, he began to read again, chuckling at the fictionalized account of the events in Texas. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up like they did whenever she was near.
His time had run out.
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