DISCLAIMER JAZZ: "The X-Files" and its characters are the creations and property of the fabled Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting. I am, of course, using them without permission. No copyright infringement is intended. All other concepts or ideas herein are mine. RATING: NC-17 SPOILERS: Through US season 7 ARCHIVE: ONLY ON THE AUTHOR'S OWN WEBSITE (http://rowan_d.tripod.com/elizabethr.html) UNTIL STORY IS COMPLETED. This way I can mess with the early parts as later parts develop... TIMELINE: Though this takes place sometime after "all things", in this universe "Requiem" did NOT happen... AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have once again self-indulgently included references to scenes in two of my otherwise unrelated X-Files fics. So, if you want to know about that first evening gown...go read "Silent Lines" (my very first X-Files fic...way back in first season...yes, I'm that old...)...as for the other reference...well, I'm sure Mim can find it...anyone else?:) (Cyber-cookies given) WATER'S EDGE by Elizabeth Rowandale (aka Elizabeth Boyd-Tra) Copyright (c) 2002 CHAPTER 10a *You saw me in an evening gown one night. We had been working together less than a year...yet, you had already begun to show that peculiar dependence on me...that bit of possessiveness I had not yet succeeded in recognizing for what it was. Out of this, you had rung my beeper in the middle of what you knew was a date. A date with a man I had been seeing for several weeks and had begun to grow rather close to. I didn't talk to you about things like that back then. But I think you knew. I don't remember what aspect of our case prompted your call that night. I don't even remember what case we were working on. All I remember is the first look on your face when I walked in the basement door; that split second before you covered your reaction. You thought I was beautiful. You looked at me as a woman, far outside the confines of agent to agent relations or battles of beliefs and minds. And for that instant, I felt more beautiful than I had in years. Fuck you, for leaving me that goddamned rose.* The lobby was breathtaking. The solarium ceiling would have flooded the room with sunlight in the day, tonight the very air shimmered with a thousand crystalline reflections from the chandeliers. The expansive greenery mimicked more garden than hotel. Climbing vines wound the stone statuary, and at the center of the hall stood a massive tiered fountain emptying into a glittering wishing well. How long had it been since Scully had entered a place of beauty without the shadow of crime scene tape or the weight of Kevlar? How long had it been since she had taken the time to notice? Beside her, Daniel blended seamlessly into the landscape of well- shod class. His black-tie ensemble was skillfully tailored, showing his broad shoulders and commanding gait to best advantage. He moved with ease in this scenario, as though dropping in for a drink after work at a 1920s gentlemen's club. Her vanity was admittedly stroked by the knowledge he had seen her as a suitably elegant companion to complete his image. Daniel had never been one to devalue appearances. She had not missed the appreciative gaze that had swept her figure when she opened her apartment door; nor the lingering look that had moved beyond surface admiration and brought a warmth to his eyes and a flash of vulnerability in her presence that had pulled hard at long-buried emotions. She had a weakness for men of experience; men who had truly lived life, seen it at its darkest and most brutal and still not lost their sense of the beauty in the world. She had been through so much in her life, been torn so far out of the traditional paths of a city professional, she found it almost impossible to develop a close friendship with anyone outside the realm of criminal investigation, much less the average potential date. But Daniel had seen enough real life in hospital halls and in the quiet of his own once vibrant household, that she could look into his eyes and find something to hold onto, someone who could see back into her. If she would allow. "This should be our table here," Daniel said, glancing down at the colored number on the place card in his hand. Scully pulled herself back to reality, having been caught in her own thoughts, only dimly recalling their entrance into the crowded ballroom, checking for their names on the table of place cards by the door. Had they greeted anyone? Had she neglected the necessary pleasantries? *"Watch Me". Carved into the white skin like a heavy red marker on poster board. Why, why do you want to be watched? Who's supposed to watch you? And what are we supposed to see? A vulnerable part of the body, the inside of the forearm. Sensitive to good touches and bad ones, and so often left hanging out in the breeze like that young woman's arm right there, lying unprotected on the white linen table cloth.* "Hmmm? I'm sorry?" Scully turned to Daniel now, knowing he had spoken, but unable to remember what he had said. His position made the answer apparent. He was holding her chair. Scully closed her eyes a moment, a slight flush of embarrassment. "I'm sorry," she said softly. He was watching her, concern in his eyes, waiting for her to explain. Scully closed her hand over his where it still lay on the back of her chair. "Work. It's just...hard to shut off. I'm sorry. I'm here, really." He shook his head. "You don't have to be." "I want to be." She glanced around the elegant room. "It's beautiful." She took her seat, brushing her fingers gently over the back of Daniel's hand as she turned. "Now, tell me who I should know." ***** Dinner was delectable. It was good to see Dana still eating actual meals instead of picking at her food like a bird as many women thought necessary these days. Though he had been surprised to find she had turned vegetarian, and had watched with quiet amusement as she discretely removed the bacon bits from her salad and the chicken pieces from her linguini. At one point she even surprised him by casually turning the fork to his mouth instead of placing the meat onto her side plate. He could still taste her kisses, feel her breath on his neck, the tangy-sweet scent of her hair. And now, just being in a room with her was like foreplay. Not just physically, but emotionally. This woman got under his skin, saw through him, like no one ever had. She could run her hand across his cheek and feel what he was thinking. He had tasted that intimacy again and wanted it back more than ever. Dana was indescribably beautiful tonight, a shimmer of silver and auburn light. He hadn't noticed another woman since they entered the ballroom. She knew exactly how to dress everything she had to its best advantage. So many of the women in this room, whether naturally attractive or not, had been so long in laboratories and exam rooms with practical haircuts and sparse adornments to look any more than "stuffed into" elegant evening wear. But Dana had not lost sight of her femininity, not forgotten to nurture the essence of who she was beneath the professional gear. They had had a conversation about this aspect of her life once...long, long ago. A quiet, intimate conversation, lying on their backs in the deep shadows of the rooftop of the chemistry building. Watching the midnight stars. Her dress was luminescent silver, a thin draping material that slid over her smooth curves like a caress. The neckline was low, elegant. The thread-thin straps showed the soft skin of her shoulders, her well-toned arms. Her hair was fastened in a careless French twist and the loose tendrils mixed with her delicate earrings. But some of her distance had returned, as though it had slipped over her with the dress. The open vulnerability she had allowed in the shadows of the park Saturday night was clearly something to be doled out in moments and glimpses. He could wait. Ten years essentially alone had shown him the odds of finding another woman who could make the world quiet just by touching his hand. He could wait. Dana was making it more than apparent by her charming conversation with their four dinner companions that she could still move at ease in his circles, despite her many years in those foreign to him. In many ways, she was still the same woman he had loved more than a decade ago. Yet he was not blind to the lines around her eyes. More than shallow marks of age, he saw in her scars of experience, battle scars of hard-earned survival and darkening lessons of life. Dana had grown from a determined and idealistic school girl, to a woman who had fought her way through the world and earned her beauty. He wanted to hear the details of every battle. It was painful to know how much of her life he had missed. And largely through his own mistakes. He didn't intend to miss another day. Not this time. ***** Dinner had been cleared, the token speeches and presentations by the charity hierarchy had been waded through, and now the room was a mixture of minglers and lingerers over their after dinner coffees; the lull before the music would begin and signal the start of the evening's dancing. Scully was still nursing the end of an herbal tea, and watching the people around her. She had enjoyed the dinner. It felt good to be out in the world again, outside of her medical or government personas, just the red-head in the silver gown, her dark polished nails tracing the rim of the china tea cup. When she was listening to the old Navy stories of the older gentleman across the table or trading subtle and hot touches with Daniel as they moved through the evening, she could almost forget the dead bodies pasted on her walls, forget the dark government maneuverings to which she was privy. But she kept getting flashes of mild disorientation. As though she were no longer one of these people, as though she were a sort of intruder on normal life, waiting to go home. Daniel was talking to the man beside him, something about recent research in neural receptors, and she would normally have been as interested in the information as he seemed to be, but she couldn't track it at the moment. And the longer she sat drawing back within herself as the conversation wound down, the more she seemed to lose hold of her grasp of her place in this room; why she was here, and if she really wanted to find herself in more places like this over the weeks and months to come. And, finally, she pushed back her chair, grasped her clutch purse, whispered a hollow pleasantry to Daniel, and slipped out of the ballroom. The air in the solarium was much fresher. She hadn't realized how much things had warmed up in the ballroom. The doors to the outer drive had been propped open and a gentle breeze now moved through the greenery. Scully stepped leisurely around the wishing well, watching the pattern of water flow in the fountain, remembering the constant sound of water in Colleen Azar's house. *"When?" "Almost ten years." "Daniel...you didn't move here for me?"* She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. "Dana? Are you all right?" She turned to see Daniel stepping up beside her, concern clear in his eyes. "I'm fine. I just...needed some air." "Pretty stuffy crowd in there." His double meaning was apparent, and Dana smiled. "It's all right," he said. "If you're not comfortable here, we can--" "No, no...it's beautiful in there. Honestly, it's...it's lovely. I'm glad we came." Her answer was open, honest. "I just...," she shrugged, "I needed some air." She looked down again, obviously not explaining, but letting him pick up that she was still sorting through the answer herself. Daniel nodded. Scully continued to gaze at the water, immobile. Out of the quiet, Daniel said softly, "Do you want to be alone?" His question rang through with far more significance than he had planned. Scully took a long beat. And when she looked up, she answered the real question. "No. No, I don't." Daniel lifted a hand and brushed his fingers ever so gently through her hair. "You are the most beautiful woman here." She had forgotten how to take a compliment like that. Back in the ballroom, the band had begun to play, and the music carried through the solarium on the breeze. Daniel reached out an arm to her. "May I have this dance, beautiful lady?" With a small smile, Scully took Daniel's hand and stepped up to meet him. It was always so natural to fit her body against Daniel's. It had always been easy, too easy. He handled her with respect, cradling her with something like reverence, even when his attention appeared to be elsewhere. The music was soft, the chord changes soothing. The open doors sent a breeze across her shoulders and ruffled her hair. Scully leaned in closer, gradually settling her head against Daniel's solid shoulder. She had heard this song before, on a radio somewhere, knew she liked it, but didn't know the singer. She felt the awakening, the gradual nursing to life of yet another aspect of her that had been neglected for too long. Questions Mulder had never asked, such as "What's your favorite song?" And she didn't want to let go of the moment. She just wanted to keep her eyes closed and keep feeling the sweet air on her skin and the strength of Daniel's arms around her and smelling the cloth of his suit and the weight of his cologne. As they moved closer and Daniel buried his face in her hair, his breath was warm and close against her neck. She pulled up and into his touch, her body responding on instinct. She didn't want to think anymore tonight. Daniel felt her shift and in a moment he was kissing her neck, her throat. The lobby was fairly deserted, most of the patrons in one of the banquet halls or ballrooms, and their position by the fountain sheltered them from prying eyes. Scully leaned her head to the side, indulging Daniel, indulging herself. She felt the familiar and long lost ripple of sensation spreading down her spine as her body awakened into his touches. Her posture shifted, her awareness of her own sexuality rushing her sensations. Memories of a life she didn't know she had left behind. A way of moving, a way of thinking. Little reminders had come over the years (*"Scully...you do know that I think you're beautiful?"*), but they had always faded, unrealized. Scully nuzzled her cheek against the barest trace of stubble on Daniel's cheek. He turned to meet her mouth, and for a moment they just hovered not more than a breath away, feeling the magnetic pull between them, savoring the connection. Then Scully moved forward, locking her mouth on Daniel's soft, generous lips, hungrily drinking in his taste. Different than it had once been. No trace of cigarettes anymore. But the underlying flavor that had stayed with her like no other man in her life was still there, drowning her senses. His hands moved over her as they kissed, exploring her curves. She felt him catch on the holster on her thigh, but this time he hardly flinched, just kept moving. Up over her back to the bare skin of her shoulders, drawing his fingers down the length of her spine and cascading gooseflesh down her arms. Scully deftly worked the buttons at the front of Daniel's jacket, never breaking her lips from his, and slipped her hands beneath the folds, running her hands over his back, now hampered only by the silk of his vest and the thin cloth of his shirt. She had a right to kiss this man. For the first time, she was kissing Daniel Waterston, and there was no reason she should be pulling away. If there had once been a reason in her own life, it was gone now. *He's gone, Dana...listen to your own words.* Daniel was free and alone without her. There was no one left to hurt with their touches. Her tongue was mingling with his and with each deep draw off of him, she felt the deeper arousal stirring within her. And Daniel's own aching response pressed against her abdomen, electrifying her own sensations. Her hands moved down over his hips and pulled the length of his body tighter against her own as she continued their breathless kisses, all but handing him her key, recognizing and welcoming every desire of his body. Daniel reached up and pushed back her hair as he moved his mouth from her lips to her cheek, her eyes, his touch both tender and just rough enough to keep her wanting. With a slight guiding tug, he turned her face up to his, asking for eye contact for a moment. He gazed down at her, a world of emotion in his precious eyes. "Dana Scully. I love you." Dana half-closed her lids, drinking in the weight of his words, the power with which they had been delivered. "Daniel..." she breathed, her voice throaty, raw. "Take me out of here. Take me home." The sea of greenery became a memory behind them as they stepped out into the night together. ***** (End Chapter 10a. Continued in Chapter 10b....) Feed me--bstrbabs@earthlink.net