TITLE: By Choice AUTHOR: Annette Gisby E-MAIL: annette.gisby@which.net CLASSIFICATION: MSR SPOILERS: Never Again RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY:Scully's actions in the episode cause the agents some angst. BY CHOICE I knew it was a mistake as soon as I lifted the phone and punched in Ed's number. Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI going out to dinner with a man she hardly knows, doesn't really want to know. But I sensed something in him. Something dark and dangerous. Something I was yearning for, but couldn't put into words. Add to that the fact that I was totally pissed off at Mulder, and you have the perfect recipe for disaster. At my insistence he took me to the crummy bar he'd been telling me about. We talked. A lot. I was getting rather drunk, my head was buzzing a little unpleasantly. I wanted to see his tatoo again, I don't know why. Something about it intrigued me. "If you're so curious, get your own," he said, gripping my wrist hard when I tried to lift the bandage to look at his. And so I did. We went to the tatoo parlour across the street, before I had time to change my mind. The doctor in me shuddered when I saw how unhygenic everything was, but by that stage of drunkenness I was beyond caring whether or not I contracted any disease. I chose a picture of a snake eating its own tail, an ouboruous. It called out to me like the first serpent in the garden. I had eaten from the tree of knowledge and the tree was called Mulder. There would be no redemption. I had fallen along with him, may as well go all the way. The tatooist asked me where I wanted the tatoo. I wanted it on the small of my back. That place that is uniquely Mulder's, where he guides me into danger and out of it, his hand a protector and a threat. As the needle first pierced my skin, my mouth opened in an "oh" of surprise. I hadn't expected it to feel like this. It was, it was arousing. I imagined the needle as Mulder's hand, a soft caress rather than a piercing needle. I felt Ed's eyes on me, a smirk on his face. He knew what the needle was doing to me. What was he thinking or hoping? That this was some kind of foreplay and I will be more willing to go to bed with him? I didn't find Ed particulary attractive, it was the darkness in him I was attracted to, because it reminded me of someone else. After the tatoo, I drove Ed home and he invited me in. Fool that I am I went. I knew what he wanted yet still I went. I should never have put myself in that situation. I should have just gone back to my motel and got the next flight home, storm or no storm. When he kissed me it wasn't a surprsie, but it was rough. He pinned my head in his hands as though afraid I might run, and I might have if I'd given the situation any thought. "Stay," he said. "I'll take the couch." Once in his bedroom, I stuffed a chair under the door handle, there was no lock. I didn't think he'd stay on the couch long, and he didn't. Half an hour at the most and the door began to rattle. "Dana? Open up! I thought you wanted this! Are you just a tease, Dana? Is that it?" "Go away, Ed. I just want to sleep. I'm not in the mood." "I can make you in the mood." I could almost imagine his leer through the door. But he left me alone after that. Until the next morning, when he'd tried to kill me. **************************************************** I sat at Mulder's desk, bruised and battered from my fight with Ed, absently twisting the rose petal in my hands. Mulder was in a foul mood when he finally arrived. I didn't know what had annoyed him most, the fact that I'd made another unscheduled appearance in the X-Files or because I'd actually got into this situation by going on a date for the first time in years. "How does it feel, Scully?" he asked. "How does what feel?" "How does it feel to have done something so idiotic? You did it to get back at me, didn't you? Because I asked you to go to Philadelphia." "Don't flatter yourself, Mulder. Not everything I do is about you. This was about me. It's as much my quest as yours. You're not the only one to lose a sister. You're not the one who was abducted. But you wish you were, don't you? You wanted it to have happened to you." I lifted my bag and headed for the door, but Mulder was too quick for me. His hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him. We were inches apart, our chests almost touching. His other hand reached up and traced the bruise on my cheek. "Did he touch you like this, Scully? Or this?" His hand moved lower, his fingers brushing the skin of my neck, just stopping short at the vee of my blouse. I was trembling, whether from anger or desire I wasn't sure. "Mulder, stop," I said, but it sounded weak, even to me. "Did he stop? Did you ask him to stop?" "Yes. I asked him to stop." "And did he? Did he stop?" Mulder's hand was inside my blouse now, lightly touching the lace of my bra. I was getting dizzy. Why does he want to know all this? Is it just jealousy? "Yes, he stopped." Mulder removed his hand and left me there, feeling bereft without his touch. I glared at him. "Shouldn't you finsih what you started, Mulder?" "I thought you wanted me to stop?" he was smirking at my discomfort. He wanted me to beg, to tell him how much I wanted this. He would be waiting a long time, my begging days were over. I could cope with this, I'd coped with his rejections before. But Mulder had never coped with mine. He never expected me to reject him. I was always the constant in his life. Reliable, dependable Scully. Always there no matter what foolhardy escapapde Mulder had got himself into. But I was fed up of being reliable, hadn't he realised that yet? As soon as I reached the door, he was there, pinning me with all his weight, his mouth crushing mine. A moan escaped me before I could stop it. His kiss was like velvet and sandpaper rolled into one and I couldn't get enough of it. I reached up and put my arms around him, holding him tight against me. He broke the kiss to look at me with tear filled eyes. "Don't go, Scully. I need you, I want you, I - I ," he sobbed the words out. "I - I love you." He sank to his knees and buried his head against my abdomen. I stroked his hair, soothing him, as I have done so many times before. "I know, Mulder. I know. I just needed to hear you say it. I love you too." "You won't ever leave me?" "No, Mulder. Not by choice." He doesn't notice the drips of blood from my nose staining my shirt crimson. "Not by choice," I repeat, wiping the blood on my sleeve. THE END Feedback very much appreciated! Thanks, Annette.