Title: After the Tavern (WIP) (2/?)
Author: Adrienne < davephile@yahoo.com > 
Date: July 6, 2008
Rating: R
Spoilers: Let's say through S8
Classification: SRA, AU
Keywords: Mulder/Scully, Scully/Reyes
Archive: Anywhere, in its entirety
Summary: Apparently, three is in fact a crowd.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I just play with their Barbies 
when I'm not writing them into sexual situations.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thanks to Marigold for the continued support 
and patience as I try to break my head-hopping habit. I'll 
learn. I promise.
This story exists in an alternate reality. Mulder did get 
abducted and returned. Scully never got pregnant; I couldn't 
do this to a pregnant woman. Mulder never killed Knowle 
Rohrer, he wasn't court marshaled and M&S didn't run away 
together, not yet anyway. Besides that...yeah everything's the 
same.
Be forewarned that this story (through all parts) goes to odd, 
uncomfortable places. Hot sex abounds (though not in this 
part!). People will be angry, hurt and confused. Relationships 
are so fun, aren't they? It's also a WIP, so parts will come 
when finished, until it's finished.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MULDER'S APARTMENT
1:45 P.M.

Scully had slammed Mulder's apartment door shut and then 
furiously punched the down button at the elevator. She 
realized her car was cozily parked at home. She closed her 
eyes and the few tears that had welled up slid down her face. 
She angrily wiped them away and exhaled, letting out all of 
the air she'd stored inside. She'd been afraid to let it out 
because the sheer force of it might cause her entire world to 
collapse around her.

It didn't.

The elevator doors opened and closed with a squeak. She hit 
the button again, entering the elevator and looking up the 
number for Yellow Cab on her phone. There was no way in hell 
she'd go back in there and ask him for a ride.

Scully was angry at how indignantly Mulder had defended having 
sex with Monica. She knew part of him was defensive, not 
wanting to get on her bad side. It was easier to blame it on 
the both of them than to take responsibility for his decision. 
She wasn't sure he regretted as much as he implied. Maybe this 
was just his way of getting away with being with someone else.

After all of those years where he could have, and did at 
times, go fuck around with another person, she'd thought he'd 
had enough time. That when they finally gave in to each other, 
it would be the end of everybody else. It had been for her.

It took a good fifteen minutes for a taxi to show up. She 
waited impatiently at the curb, kicking leaves, checking her 
old text messages, doing anything to keep herself from looking 
up at his window. When she finally gave in and glanced up, she 
saw him watching her. She pretended not to notice.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING
4:00 P.M.

The lump in Monica's throat grew as she rode the elevator down 
to the basement. She wasn't sure who she'd find or if she 
wanted to find anyone at all. She felt herself drawn there, 
restless for conclusions and answers to burning questions that 
had shaken her so deeply during the hours since she'd left 
Mulder's apartment. The night had left her mind clouded with 
an energy desperate to be spent.

She peered into the open door and saw Mulder sitting on his 
chair, feet up on the desk and hands behind his head. He was 
lost in thought, staring blankly into a far corner, probably 
farther than the room allowed.

"Agent Mulder?"

Nothing moved but his eyes. They met hers with slow 
recognition. She couldn't read anything but lost. It took him 
a second to snap him out of it.

"Agent Reyes?"

Monica stood at the door, not sure why she was expecting an 
invitation to come in and make herself at home. Not normally 
one to be self-conscious, she felt a nervous tension between 
them that was most likely explained by the fact that they had 
seen each other naked several hours earlier. Mulder's sigh was 
deep as his feet fell to the floor. He gestured and she 
followed his lead, approaching the desk.

"I just...I wasn't sure who would be down here," she said, 
occupying her hands by sliding silver rings over her slender 
fingers.

"Nobody's ever down here but me, Monica."

"Well, you and Scully."

Mulder's eyebrows rose. "Were you looking for her?"

Monica's breath left her in a hurry. "That's not what I meant. 
Either of you was fine."

His eyes wandered over her body before he gave her a quizzical 
look. She shifted on her feet.

"You want to know why I?m here," she finally said. He smiled, 
picking up a pen and twirling it in his fingers.

"I want to know why it's so awkward," he replied with a shrug.

"I?m sorry. This is so..." She faltered, at a strange loss for 
words. Mulder's nonchalant fiddling intrigued her and pissed 
her off at the same time. She tapped his desk once with her 
fingers. "The last thing I want is for this to be awkward. I 
just wanted to come down and let you know that...I don't want 
last night to disrupt anything. To change anything, send 
anything off-balance."

"I agree," Mulder answered. She had never seen him quite so 
uncomfortable in his own skin. "It happened, and we can leave 
it at that. Not trying to be rude, but I've found that 
dwelling too much on things like this never benefits anyone."

Monica nodded but studied him, knowing that he'd already built 
a wall between them. He wasn't going to talk about what 
happened between them besides acknowledging what had happened 
in the most generic sense possible. She didn't know what she'd 
expected. She knew there was a side of him that cared, but he 
wasn't going to show it.

"Have a good evening," she said faintly, watching him twirl 
the pen over and over.

She left the office feeling unsettled and unfinished. He 
resumed his reclining position, examining the corner like 
something was going to give way.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MONICA'S APARTMENT
12:00 A.M.

Monica tossed under her sheets, unable to sleep. The traffic 
outside her bedroom window was more invasive than usual. She 
sighed as the ticking of her kitchen clock counted away the 
spent seconds of her life.

There were so many things to be disturbed about that she 
couldn't focus on just one. They flitted through her mind like 
angry mosquitoes, buzzing around, occasionally landing and 
sucking the life's blood out of her.

She was pissed about Mulder's couldn't-care-less attitude when 
she walked into his office earlier. It had been extremely 
contrived and disgustingly fake. She detested people who 
pulled that shit. She'd had enough of it in her life. She 
didn't know what to expect from him, but since they'd fucked 
the night before, a simple, "How ya doin'?" would have 
sufficed. When she entered the office she'd cemented her 
thoughts on the mistake she'd made the night before. But she 
wasn't getting anywhere with him. His mind was somewhere else, 
most likely on the red-headed party to their complicated 
situation.

If he was going to be a bitch about it, he could do so on his 
own time. But she was more deeply worried about Scully's 
reaction to everything that had happened. Their kiss at the 
bar had been unusually electric. Monica had let her take the 
lead when they'd arrived at Mulder's apartment, and Scully 
hadn't had a problem pushing it a little further than Monica 
had expected or even gone before. But the entire time it had 
felt comfortable, blissful, nearly peaceful.

Things probably would have been all right if Mulder hadn't 
been there. Monica, though completely inebriated at the time, 
had seen the flash of jealousy that had passed over Scully's 
face like a thunderstorm threatening rain. It made Monica 
extremely uneasy when she realized what Mulder's intentions 
were. But Monica didn't stop him, didn't want to stop him. 
Over the day she'd realized it wasn't her interaction with 
Mulder that she didn't want to end. She'd clung onto Scully, 
lost deep inside of her, amazed at the simple pleasure and 
connection she felt between them. He was peripheral, 
unnecessary, but overbearingly present.

She glanced at her clock, her toes twiddling. She was never 
one to hold back anything. It often got her into trouble, 
mouthing off, saying how she really felt. Not giving a rat's 
ass about the reactions she'd face. But now there was an 
inkling of uncertainty in her heart, sparse with fear. But the 
root of it was positive. She just had to get there.

She slid out of bed and reached for her phone.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The phone rang Scully out of a troubled sleep. She'd skipped 
the entire day of work, instead passing the time watching 
daytime television and ordering out for Chinese. She didn't 
want to think about him, about anyone, didn't want to see 
anyone. Today, she was choosing talk shows instead of reality 
because all reality did was piss her off. 

She'd passed out on top of her comforter with her cell phone 
in her hand. She glanced at the clock and groaned at the 
extremely inappropriate hour for phone conversation. Only one 
person she knew would call at this hour and at this point, she 
wasn't sure she wanted to speak to him.

She answered the phone with silence, like hello wasn't enough 
and too much at the same time.

"Dana?"

"Hi," she answered softly, surprised and relieved at who it 
was.

"Hi," Monica said. "Listen...I'm coming over."

"Monica..." Scully shifted nervously onto her side. "I'm not 
sure that's a good idea."

"Well, good idea or not, we need to talk. Things aren't right. 
You know what I mean."

Scully tried to remember the last time things felt right.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Scully stood in her kitchen doing absolutely nothing. She'd 
wandered there after the call had ended, after Monica said she 
was heading over. Her fingernails tapped against the tile 
countertop as she leaned over it, wondering what her next move 
would be. No matter what she tried, this whole situation 
wasn't going to go away quickly or easily.

Throughout the eight years she and Mulder had been together, 
she'd grown intensely aware of the fact that in some undefined 
way, they belonged together. Some days it was as friends, 
sometimes like siblings. Other times as headstrong 
counterweights to each other's crazy ideas. Well, mostly his 
crazy ideas.

Lately, the turn they'd taken as lovers had seemed not just 
inevitable but necessary. Knowing what they knew, seeing what 
they'd seen, they'd resorted to clinging to each other, inside 
of each other, all over each other. A natural progression of 
male and female, animalistic, passionate, and intuitive. 
They'd never breached the subject of love but it was 
understood with a glance, a brush of fingertips, a fixed stare 
as they moved together silently on his unmade bed amidst 
crumpled sheets.

It was there and it was everything she needed. Textbook, the 
perfect relationship. Mulder would do anything for her. He 
would die for her, at times he'd implied that he'd die without 
her. She'd thought he was the missing part to her puzzle, to 
compliment the perfect parts she'd been carefully arranging 
into a portrait of the ideal life of Dana Scully.

That's why what had transpired the night before had shocked 
her to the core. Every thought about how special she was to 
him, every time he'd told her she was beautiful, the most 
beautiful, came into question. Instead of filling her with 
warmth, the recollection of his admonitions now stung like 
tiny needles of doubt.

Scully knew she was partially responsible for things falling 
into place as they'd done with Monica. She'd kissed her, 
enjoyed it, kept kissing her, kept enjoying it. It had 
surprised her and shaken her. Monica had let up, let her 
decide where to go and how to get there. Scully wanted to feel 
her all over, how different she was, to absorb the glow of her 
presence that sucked her in immediately. But then there was 
Mulder, sidelined at first, but apparently anxious to become 
part of the experience.

Scully wasn't sure what angered her the most. Seeing him all 
over Monica hurt deeply, like it cut out a piece of her heart 
that she'd saved implicitly for him. It made her nauseous. If 
he felt the need to have sex with somebody else, did it really 
have to be in front of her? Every place they went Scully had 
become accustomed to the women who stared at him like they'd 
suck him off at a moment's notice. So why not hook up when she 
wasn't around? Out of sight, out of mind.

The other part of her anger was self-directed, at losing 
control and enjoying being with someone else. After all the 
years of waiting for him, loving him, hoping...why would she 
feel like this now?

The knock on the door nearly made her jump out of her skin. 
She composed herself and walked to the door, opening it to 
find Monica casually dressed in yoga pants and a navy jacket. 
Her long, dark hair was tousled, like she'd dragged herself 
out of the house without a glance at the mirror. Monica came 
in and Scully shut the door.

"So...what brings you by at this late hour?" Scully asked, 
walking over to her couch and sitting down. She looked to 
Monica. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," Monica said, joining her. Monica sighed and leaned 
back into the cushions. "Well, I went to visit Mulder this 
afternoon and he was aloof to say the least," she said. "It 
troubled me." 

"Was he at the office?" Scully asked, leaning forward and 
weaving her fingers together.

"Yes. But he wasn't really doing anything."

"That's not uncommon."

They shared a smile, setting her more at ease.

"Listen, Dana...I think last night was a huge mistake." Monica 
paused, running a hand through her hair. "I mean, I know 
people do stupid things, but I?m not usually one of those 
people. And...I know how you guys are, and it was never my 
intention to get into the middle of that." Her choice of 
phrase made Scully blush slightly. Scully took a deep breath 
and nodded, pressing her hands against her knees.

"Monica...we're all adults. Don't hang yourself out to dry on 
this one. Everyone played their part."

"I know. I just don't want to screw anything up," Monica said. 
"It's just not what I do."

Scully's eyes aimlessly followed the sharp edges of her 
entertainment center. She pulled her hair behind her ears.

"Mulder and I have an odd relationship," she finally said, 
leaning back on the couch.

"It doesn't seem that odd to me," Monica said, cracking her 
knuckles. "I mean...a lot of people work together, develop 
feelings for each other and act on them. Hey, it's happened to 
me before."

Scully looked at Monica as she shrugged with a smile. She was 
so unassuming, so nonchalant about all of it. It puzzled her.

"I?m not sure what Mulder and I are anymore," Scully murmured, 
their eyes meeting briefly. "I used to be sure."

"It'll come to you," Monica said, putting her hand on Scully's 
leg. "You just have to be open to accepting it."

Scully's eyes gravitated to the warm hand on her leg which was 
doing a fantastic job of sending little waves of something too 
closely resembling arousal through her body. Scully's lips 
parted slightly, like if she waited long enough, the right 
answer would drop from them.

"It just made me so angry," Scully whispered, digging her 
fingernails into her palms. "When he did that to you."

Monica took a sharp breath. Scully glanced at her and saw a 
trace of sadness cross her face. "I know. I'm so sorry I 
didn't stop it."

Scully clenched her jaw tightly as she closed her eyes. She 
wondered why it seemed like everyone had wanted to stop it and 
nobody did. In an instant Monica pulled Scully's head against 
her chest, hugging her. "It's okay, Dana. I don't want you 
hurting about it. Ugh. I'm sorry."

"I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know what he wants 
anymore." Scully choked back a tiny sob, failing miserably. 
Monica's shirt became damp with shed tears. Scully fought to 
regain her composure, equally irritated at herself and 
devastated.

Monica wordlessly tightened her hug. Scully took a shaky 
breath, catching a soft scent of a complex, earthy perfume. 
The same as the night before.

Scully lifted her head and looked into Monica's eyes. Monica 
smiled with a little shrug and Scully leaned in and pressed 
their mouths together, motionless through fleeting moments. 
Scully felt her body melt a little as she moved her lips 
needily against Monica's mouth, finding it unresponsive.

Monica pulled away gently. "Dana...this isn't a good idea for 
you right now."

Scully swallowed hard, furiously blushing. Sick confusion 
fluttered in her gut. Monica cupped Scully's face with a hand 
and gave her a reassuring smile.

"Let me reword that," Monica said. "I?m amazed...in 
wonderment...and you, and that, feel incredible. Last night 
felt...I can't really describe it in words right now. But if 
we decide to go along this path, I want to make sure it's for 
the right reasons. And that there won't be any regrets for 
either of us."

Scully nodded, her face pressing into Monica's palm. "I'm 
sorry."

Monica looked into her eyes, searching. "If you're anything, 
don't be sorry."

Scully closed her eyes, absorbing the coolness of Monica's 
hand against her flushed cheek.

The apartment door swiftly opened and Mulder stood, key in 
hand, facing them on the couch. 

Scully rose quickly, horrifically surprised at the disheveled 
sight before her. Monica sat shocked on the couch, her 
expression alarmed.

"Oh, this is just great, Scully," Mulder said, closing the 
door behind him. "Is that what you want?"

"What are you doing here?" Scully's voice was hollow and 
damaged. Of all the times for him to walk in. He was always 
walking in like he owned the place. Humiliation sent color 
through her cheeks once again. Mulder was unfazed, anger 
hardening his expression.

"I'd ask you the same question," he said. "But it's apparent 
to me that I?m not invited this time around."

"You need to get out," Scully said flatly, barely controlling 
the fury swelling up inside of her. "And get of here now, 
Mulder."

"So you wake up today and start railing against me about how 
horrible I am, that I did this to you. You sent me on an all-
day fucking guilt trip, and now this?" Mulder's whole body 
quivered, his voice shaking.

Scully was out of words. She glanced at Monica, who was 
watching Mulder, seemingly ready to make a move in case things 
got out of control.

"Do you really want it to end like this, Dana?" Mulder asked, 
rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to rid himself 
of an intense pain that ached for release. He glanced at her 
through a glimmer of tears and she looked away. Mulder crying 
was a rarity and the only thing she felt she couldn't handle, 
especially not right now.

"I don?t know what I want," she whispered, a tear dripping to 
her cheek.

Mulder closed his eyes with a ragged breath. Then he walked 
over to her, brushing past Monica, and pushed the key into her 
palm. Scully bit back a whimper and stared into his dark eyes.

"I don't want it," he whispered harshly. "Not anymore."

Scully closed her fist around the key as the tears spilled 
over. She saw the split second of compassionate pain cross his 
face before she looked away. He turned his back on her and 
walked out the door, leaving it wide open.

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