Keys, The

by DrunkSails

From: "drunksails" <drunksails@yahoo.fr> Date: Wednesday, May 15, 2002 12:02 PM

Well, just a little fic in order to forget that fucking end of Sunshine Days... It hasn't the length or the quality of fics like Secret Bird (and probably Sweet Dreams, which I haven't read yet) but I hope you'll enjoy it. Thanks again to Liz for the corrections. DrunkSails.

THE KEYS.
Author : DrunkSails
Pairing : Scully/Reyes
Rating : PG-13
Spoiler : no spoiler, pre-William
Disclaimer : Scully, Reyes and Doggett belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox.




F.B.I. HEADQUARTERS. Saturday. 6:45 pm.

As she walked down the hall, she could see a faint light brightening from the office. She smiled : "Agent Reyes...". Doggett was in Chicago, it could only be Agent Reyes. All the worries of the day faded away. It was one of these magic powers of Reyes, she felt well with her. She didn't know why, her sense of humor, her sensibility, this sort of obviousness that emanated from her, maybe her beauty too? She didn't know so she'd imputed it to some sort of magic, she, the scientist!

But as she arrived at the door frame, she found her fellow agent absorbed in some kind of gloomy thoughts. She was sitting at the desk, her arms crossed and her gaze lost. The scene touched her, she wasn't used to seeing Reyes with such a dark look. She even seemed not to have noticed her presence.

"Still at work?"

Reyes, hearing a voice, turned her head instinctively towards the doorway and stared amazingly at Scully. Reality and musings had collided. Monica found herself surprised to see the subject of her thoughts appear just in front of her.

"Are you okay, Agent Reyes?"

"Hum....Yeah... I'm just...exhausted.", she replied, still troubled. "But,...you're still in here? I thought you had left."

"Well, I've had to finish an autopsy and I've just come here to file the paperwork.", she softly answered as if she wouldn't trouble Reyes some more.

Then she walked towards the file cabinet and pulled out a drawer to file the autopsy. She was now examining the inside of the drawer. Reyes was staring at her in a quasi-religious silence. She loved her, but she was straight and bound to Mulder. She desperately loved her. Her beauty, her integrity, her sense of humor, her so high sensibility from which she protected herself behind a sort of coldness, her limpid eyes, and this manner she had to push a strand of her hair back of her ear, like she was doing at the present time... Yes, she longed for her and that wrecked herself. And when, feeling the staring, Scully turned her head off from the drawer to meet Reyes' gaze, her heartbeats suddenly accelerated : Reyes was about to collapse, a tear flowing down her cheek.

"What's happening Monica? What's wrong?!" The great concern about her friend was putting her at the point of crying too.

"No... nothing...just exhaustion", replied Monica with a husky voice. As she saw Scully still worried, she tried to gather herself and added with a faint smile : "I don't know, a bad day I guess, rain, bad weather, tiredness, and moreover I've lost once again at the lotto...".

"She doesn't lose her humor even when she's down" thought Scully who slightly smiled back at Monica's joke, but she knew that something more serious was lying behind her words.

"I'd better leave", Monica suddenly said, not sure that she would manage to keep her tears back any longer, she stood up, took her jacket, and, avoiding Scully's gaze, said a laconic, awkward and sad goodbye, then left an astonished Scully. But as soon as she'd got over her surprise, Scully ran through the corridor and caught Monica up just before she'd vanish in the elevator.

"Monica, do you have something scheduled this evening?"

"Hum....No."

"My mother's taking care of William for the week-end, why won't you come and have dinner with me?"

"I..., I don't know..., I won't be a very pleasant companion tonight..."

"It doesn't matter, you seem tired and a little bit sad (what an understatement, Scully thought), don't stay alone, come please. You have done so much for me, let me give you a little back, we're friends, aren't we?"

"Friends, yes...", whispered Monica, thoughtfully.

"So?...", asked Scully with a raised eyebrow.

"...Okay. What time?"

"Eight thirty?"

"All right."

"Great, see you later, then."

"See you...".Monica replied and disappeared in the elevator.




SCULLY'S APARTMENT. Saturday. 8:30 pm.

The doorbell rang. Scully opened the door and grinned : her eyes had met Monica's. Suddenly drowned, lost in these blue depths, the usually relevant and serene woman felt like paralysed. She tried a feeble smile, "Hi!...", and glanced aside to free herself from the azure.

"Come in, Monica.", Scully softly invited her, then closed the door and led her to the living room. "Have a sit...". Monica took off her jacket, threw it at random on a chair and sat on the couch with a sigh of relief. Scully smiled because, even though she was indubitably troubled, Monica kept her lovely kind of casualness.

"What would you like to drink?"

"Do you have whiskey?", asked Monica, a little more relaxed because she didn't have to face the disarming gaze of Scully who was occupied with the drink. Scully poured a whiskey for Monica and a vodka for herself.

"Ice?"

"No, thanks."

"I knew you were tough", kidded Scully sitting beside her friend and offering her the glass. - Monica giggled and sighed out, darker : "I'd like to..."

Scully glanced at her quizzically : "What do you mean?"

"Nothing.", Monica waved away and shunted the discussion by declaring all of the sudden and with an overplayed enthusiasm : "I'm really hungry! What juicy food have you cooked again?"

"Hum...just spaghetti.". They both laughed, slackening thus a part of the tension.

"Well,...I adore spaghetti! I'd eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner within a whole day.". They laughed on.

"So, let's go to the kitchen!" They stood up and went into the kitchen. There, they set the table and prepared the dinner while drinking up their glass. Then they sat and ate. They talked casually and joked, Monica needed a lighter tone, because, if not, she knew she would break down. Scully had felt it and didn't want to upset her more. As they had finished dinning, she sent Monica into the living room :

"I'll wash the dishes, make the coffee and rejoin you...you can switch on the TV set or listen to music, or... whatever you like..." -

"Whatever I like...Hum...Okay.", smiled Monica shamming a conspiring look and leaving the kitchen. But as Scully came back with the coffee, she found her asleep on the couch. What a conspiracy! She looked at her : Monica was softly breathing, soothed, at last. And the first thought that crossed Scully's mind was : "She's amazingly beautiful". Then she went for a blanket and covered Monica with it. She sat and drank her coffee while gazing at the gorgeous woman. When finished, she stood up, soughed a secret goodnight in Monica's ear and laid a soft and slow kiss on her forehead. Monica slightly quivered but didn't awake. Scully switched off the light and went to bed. She felt actually oddly glad of Monica sleeping at her house tonight.




SCULLY'S APARTMENT. Sunday. 7:31 am.

All was quiet as SOMETHING tore the silence and started to sharply ring, ring, ring!

Scully awoke : "Fuck!", and fumbled for the phone.

Monica awoke : "Fuck!", and fumbled for the alarm-clock.

Scully had found the phone and reluctantly answered : "Scully..."

Monica hadn't found the alarm-clock and suddenly reminded : "Scully!.." Doggett needed an urgent autopsy for a case and Scully couldn't refuse him that service. She hung up and sighed. "Chilled meat for breakfast doesn't egg you on to get up fast". Scully's adage. Monica wiped her eyes and looked around. Nobody. She was a bit stiff and stretched her athletic body, then she sat up and loudly sighed out a "Oh God!".

"No, just Doggett...", Scully archly corrected. She had just come into the living room, surprising Monica.

"I'm sorry for..."

Scully stopped her : "Don't be sorry. You were exhausted. Have you slept well at least?"

"Well, the couch is a little rough, but yes, I have."

"I know. My bed's better." Monica gave her a quizzical look. "Why did I say that?!", thought Scully, flushing.

"I mean, I sometimes happen to nap on the couch while watching TV, or...Never mind.", she waved off. " Doggett needs me right now for an autopsy.", she blew out raising her eyebrows.

"He can't stop working even on Sunday! Well, I'll let you get ready for your... work Sunday morning", she looked at Scully and grinned. Scully grinned back, keeping up the gaze. A silence settled. The smiles faded and, eyes into eyes, their breath was growing harder. Scully was not sure of what was happening whereas a panic was seizing Monica. She suddenly looked away for her jacket.

"I'd better leave or you'd be late". Scully nodded, still weirdly troubled. Monica took her jacket and put it on. She tried to recover herself and glanced at Scully to throw out with a quavering voice : - "Well, have a nice day!" - "You too.", Scully softly replied and smiled. Then Monica headed for the doorway and Scully watched her leave. The door closed and from that moment Scully had been feeling so lonely, and so sad. Here, standing in the middle of the empty room, she was understanding that this overwhelming feeling wasn't only due to the absence of Mulder. She needed his presence, his friendship, but there was something about Monica. She didn't manage to voice it, or rather, she was afraid to. But the phone bell dragged her away from her thoughts.

"Scully......It's already been decomposing?!.......well, I'm coming, I'm coming". She hung up and ran to get ready.




OUT OF SCULLY'S APARTMENT. Sunday. 7:58.

As soon as Monica had closed the door, she lit a cigarette with a shaky hand. She needed it. Her legs were giving way and she was clinging on to her smoke so as to stand still. Her breath was still hard, her heart ablaze. She didn't know what to think anymore, she was scared to hope and to be painfully disappointed, she knew she couldn't get over it. But she hadn't dreamed : that intense and silent scene before she left should mean something. Still wrapped up in these disturbing thoughts, she got into her car and drove back home. As she met the door of her home, she came back to reality a few seconds to fumble for the keys into her pockets. "Fuck!", she swore between clenched teeth. She'd forgotten them at Scully's, they must have slipped from her jacket as she threw it on the chair. She should have to face Scully again and she knew that, this time, she couldn't hold back her feelings very long, but she had no choice. She took her cellular phone and called Doggett :

"John?"

"Monica? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why?", replied Monica on the defensive.

"It's simply never happened that you got up before eleven on Sunday morning, unless something was going wrong."

"Everything's okay, John. Is Scully with you?"

"Oh, I see."

" You see nothing.", she sharply retorted.

"What are you expecting, Monica? Where will that lead you?"

"I don't call you on Sunday morning to talk to you about my feelings or to listen to you telling me what would be good or bad for me!". She rarely lost her temper and that betrayed her disarray, her distress, because John knew her very well.

"Okay, okay. Anyway, she's carrying out an autopsy and will go straight back home after it."

"Thanks."

"Hum..."

"...John?...Sorry...You know..."

"I know, Monica, I know... I just don't want you to suffer so much one more time."

"Thanks, John, bye."

"Bye. She hung up and decided to stop by at Scully's after lunch. Meanwhile, she would go for a walk and would try to eat something despite the lump in her throat.




SCULLY'S APARTMENT. Sunday. 14:12 pm.

She'd eaten hardly anything and she felt exhausted because she'd had to get up early, and also because she hadn't slept much. Hard to go to sleep with Monica in the next room... Monica... She still had been in her thoughts. Scully was lost, bewildered. She was actually scared of this truth that was raising in her heart and soul and that she hardly dared name : Love. She loved Monica, she wanted her, even though it was hard to admit. This inside struggle tired her out too, she sat on the couch where Monica had slept and looked around the desperately empty room. Suddenly, her face brightened : Monica's keys were lying on the ground, near a chair. She should come back, Monica wasn't organized enough to have left somebody a spare set of her keys. She got up, picked them up and sat back down on the couch. Then she closed her eyes for relief and fell asleep, the keys of her heart squeezed in her hand.

The doorbell awoke her like an electric shock. "Monica" was her first thought. She put the keys on the table and headed for the door in a state of complete confusion. She stopped before it, deeply breathed in and opened it. Monica appeared. As soon as their eyes had met, the fears of both vanished, they knew their truth. Lost in each other's eyes, Monica took a step forward and Scully closed the door. They were so close now, breathing hard, their blood at the boiling point. Then they couldn't take it any longer, they leaned into each other and their lips met with fever. A soft kiss first, but like a tempest which was carrying them away. The kiss deepened, their hands were wandering, getting lost all over their bodies. Monica felt dizzy : her blood was running into her veins like melting metal, and seemed to flow out of her body into Scully's. As Scully felt her lover almost bound to faint, she took her hand and led her to the bedroom where they weren't but only one anymore. Their love set the night ablaze, and the morning found them clasped in an embrace. Scully awoke first and stared at Monica, still asleep in the pit of her arm. She reached out her hand and brushed her lover's cheek. She was so warm, her amber skin so soft. The beautiful woman blinked and, feeling the touch of Scully's hand, she grinned before she opened her eyes. She looked up at her lover, and then Scully told her in a mischievous smile : "I think I'll keep your keys." Monica kissed her. She was the guardian of her heart.

The End.


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