From: char@chaffin.com   
      
   NO ARCHIVE   
      
      
      
   Chain-Breaking   
   By Char Chaffin and Donna   
   MSR, PG-13, angst, post-ep and then does its own little thing!   
   Spoilers:  "Drive"   
   Disclaimers: Not ours, someone else's, although we retain the right   
   to make their Clones our personal fic-slaves!   
      
   Email:  char@chaffin.com; donnah@donnas-stories.com   
      
   This story is the result of a challenge issued over at Haven: have   
   Scully take a look at S6/"Drive"/Mulder, and think to herself, "Damn!   
   He's gorgeous" - then do something about it.  We put our fertile   
   little minds together and came up with this.  Hope you enjoy!  Thanks   
   to Miffy for the idea in the first place -   
      
   Additional thanks to Sallie, Robin and Tess for beta and preview -   
      
   Summary:  'She only knew the need for something to happen -'   
      
      
   "Chain-Breaking"   
      
      
      
   Loleta, CA   
      
   She watched as he walked past her, not speaking.  Her heart ached   
   for him, for another perceived failure on his part.  There was no way   
   he could have gotten here faster, done any more to save Patrick   
   Crump.   
      
   He stood there, looking out at the sea.  He was exhausted, that was   
   obvious, but he couldn't rest.  Not yet.   
      
   He was in the clothes he'd been in when she'd last seen him.  His   
   sleeves were rolled up, his shirt was unbuttoned at the throat and   
   his jacket was missing.  She could see the sweat stains on his back.   
   She watched him remove his tie and realized she desperately wanted to   
   take him in her arms, brush the hair back from his forehead, and feel   
   her fingertips tingle from the stubble of his beard.   
      
   How did he manage to look like that even though he'd been awake for   
   over twenty-four hours?  And why in hell was she most drawn to him   
   when he did?   
      
   He was hurting, but would he let her help him?  Oh the hell with it,   
   he needed her whether or not he would admit it.  Scully shoved away   
   all of her instincts except the need to soothe.   
      
   She approached him and laid her hand on his arm.  It was warm from   
   being in the California sun for so long.  The texture of his silky   
   hair against her fingers was comforting.  "Mulder?"   
      
   He shook his head, "I can't."   
      
   She didn't bother questioning what he couldn't do, but simply   
   entreated softly, "Come on.  Let's get out of here."   
      
   After a moment he nodded and let her lead him toward a patrol car.   
   "I could really use a bathroom right about now."  He looked down at   
   her.   
      
   "I think we can handle that." She gave him a slight smile.   
      
   He was silent as they drove back and stopped at the first service   
   station they came to.  When he returned to the car, she saw that he   
   had splashed some water on his face and his hair was damp.  He sat   
   heavily in the back seat beside her.   
      
   "Feel better?"  She asked.   
      
   He grinned tiredly at her, "Yep."   
      
   "We can't do any more tonight.  Let's find a place to stop.  You   
   need to get some sleep."   
      
   "You know, that sounds good."  He scrubbed his face.  He let his   
   head fall back and his eyes close.   He was asleep when Scully   
   touched the officer's arm and pointed to a chain motel they were   
   depressingly familiar with.  He nodded but didn't speak in deference   
   to Mulder.   
      
   She left her partner dozing in the car and checked them in, then   
   returned to him.  "Mulder?  Wake up for just a minute.  Let's get you   
   inside."   
      
   He looked at her and nodded wearily.  He stumbled from the car and   
   her arm steadied him, leading him to his room.  She slipped the card   
   in the lock and pushed it open.  "Get undressed, Mulder."   
      
   Even dead on his feet he managed a leer in her direction.  Scully   
   didn't comment, letting her raised eyebrow speak for her.  He stepped   
   into the bathroom.  When he emerged, wearing his boxers and a   
   sleeveless undershirt, he headed straight for the bed she had turned   
   down.  He sank into it and then looked up at her.   
      
   "I really did it this time, didn't I?"   
      
   "Go back to sleep."   
      
   He held out his hand and she took it.  "I'm sorry."  He tugged her   
   down to sit beside him.   
      
   "There's nothing to apologize for, Mulder.  You did everything you   
   could."   
      
   "I mean to you.  I know Kersh has to have heard about this."  She   
   looked away and he squeezed her hand.  He started to speak again, but   
   a yawn interrupted him.   
      
   She laughed lightly and her palm rested against his cheek for a   
   moment.  "Close your eyes."   
      
   "Where's your room?"   
      
   "Next door."   
      
   He nodded, his eyes closing despite himself.  He felt her release   
   his hand and rise from the bed.  Heard her step quietly to the door   
   and open it, close it.  He sighed in weary frustration.   
      
   Agent Scully, taking care of him once more.  Finding a room and   
   putting him to bed.  He was tired of it; of being the exhausted,   
   stressed, falling-apart partner who stood on shaky legs and had to be   
   guided to the motel mattress.  Too bad he couldn't seem to do   
   anything else right now, except obey the demands of his worn-down   
   system.  There wasn't any point in trying to analyze it further, not   
   when he was fast losing consciousness.   
      
   Mulder turned on his side, and slept.   
      
   On the other side of the connecting door, Scully leaned against it   
   and sighed, somewhat frustrated herself.  Why, when the man was most   
   vulnerable, did she want him so badly?  She was used to strong men,   
   men who made the decisions and called the shots.  She was familiar   
   with that type.  She understood it.  She functioned best around it.   
      
   Now, more and more, she was finding herself drawn toward Mulder when   
   she knew he couldn't possibly give her what she felt she needed most.   
   It was too easy to slip into the role of nurse; to want to soothe his   
   aches and heal whatever scars were on his heart.  It would be easier   
   still to take the one fateful step that would blur the lines of   
   friendship when he was hurting, for whatever reason.  She held as   
   much compassion for him as she held love.  There had never been any   
   question of that.   
      
   But she didn't want to begin an intimate relationship in compassion.   
   Scully had to be honest with herself.  She wanted that strong man who   
   would guide her even as he enjoyed her own personal strength.  She   
   wanted to be swept away and not have to fix the broken man, first.   
   And sometimes Mulder was just so damned broken.   
      
   She raked the hair out of her eyes and trudged off toward the   
   bathroom, determined not to think any longer about it.  Better to get   
   some sleep and prepare for the upcoming battle with AD Kersh.  With   
   forced determination, Scully put it out of her mind and prepared for   
   bed.   
      
      
   ******************   
      
   FBI Headquarters   
   Two days later   
      
   Mulder strode out of the elevator and down the narrow hallway,   
   wrenched open the door of his office and flung it shut behind him, so   
   hard that the door bounced open again.  He didn't notice.  Most   
   likely there were other people outside watching him, but he was   
   beyond caring who might see his anger.   
      
   Actually, he was past anger.  Past fury.  Rapidly edging out sane   
   reason, too.   
      
   He'd been furious with Kersh before, and no doubt would be again.   
   Typical AD bullshit, and wasn't the man particularly good at stirring   
   it up!  But this was different; this was more than his usual feelings   
   of Kersh-hatred.   
      
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)