Title: Perceptions (1/1)

Author: JEhrat@aol.com (Janis)

Category: VSA

Rating: PG

Keywords: Mulder/Scully relationship

Disclaimer: CC and 1013 Productions owns 'em - I just borrow them now and then. No infringement is intended, and certainly, no money is being made from this story!

Summary: Mulder and Scully see things differently (so what else is new? <G>).

Spoilers: Through the entire five seasons, but before the movie.

Feedback: Please!!!! I am not ashamed to beg! JEhrat@aol.com

The sun is setting. Not only in the West, but in my heart. Even as the wondrous, yet sad, dying rays filtered by the prism of pollution produce the intense gold, orange, and purple hues that become the sunset, so my brain filters memories through a kaleidoscope of pain that is just as intense.

The sun is rising. Not only in the East, but in my heart. Even as the wondrous, and sublime, newborn rays filtered by a prism unseen produce the brilliant gold, orange, and purple hues that become thesunrise, so my brain filters memories through a kaleidoscope of pleasure that is just as brilliant.

Unaware of the passing of time, the room and my world become black and colorless around me as I contemplate the times he has pushed me out of his life, when he has thrust me from his circle of influence and not allowed me to share in his sorrows. He has ditched me too many times to count, apparently believing I am not strong enough to survive what he fears is to come. He has literally left me holding the phone, his name escaping my lips, fear tearing at my heart. I ask you; is that love?

Unaware of the passing of time, the room and my world become white and colorful around me as I contemplate the times she has let me into her life, when she has drawn me into her circle of influence and allowed me to share in her sorrows. She has blindly followed me too many times to count, so strong in her own beliefs, surviving all that has come her way. She has literally saved me from dying, her name escaping my lips, courage driving her on. I ask you: is that not love?

I fear his touch. His touch short-circuits me and causes my carefully built walls of protection to begin to crumble. Oblivious, his hands offer me solace, tenderness, a connection to his reality. They have never hurt me. They do not lie. Secretly, I ache for him to touch me, but I dare not; I'd be undone. To preserve my resolve to keep him out, seldom do I allow him to touch me, and then only in the briefest of ways possible: a guiding touch to the small of my back, and sometimes a finger on my cheek while brushing back a strand of hair from my face.

But his touch is infrequent, a sign to me that he is not willing to take the final step to draw me in.

I seek out her touch. Her touch electrifies me and I can feel sure bonds forming a wall of protection around us. Knowingly, her hands offer me healing, comfort, and escape from my reality. They have hurt me only once. They sought the truth. Secretly, I ache for her to touch me, and I willingly submit; I am exalted. To strengthen my resolve to let her in, often do I seek her touch; and then in as many lingering ways as possible: a reassuring touch to my forearm, and sometimes even feigning illness so she will lay a hand on my forehead! And her touch is becoming more frequent, a sign to me that she is willing to take the final step to draw me in.

My memories linger on our conversation tonight. He was cavalier as he talked about his past work with Diana. He looked everywhere but in my eyes as he spoke, as if in a hurry to leave my company behind. He told me tomorrow he wants to tell me about a truth he has discovered. I am sure he wants to confess his feelings for her. I already know his truth: I am his past, and she will be his future.

My memories quickly pass over our conversation last night. I am ashamed for not previously telling her about my past work with Diana. I could not look her in the eye, in a hurry to leave the subject behind.

Today I want to tell her about the truth I have discovered. I want to confess my feelings for her. She must know the truth: Diana is my past, and she is my future.

He has damned me to this life of no life. He is my world, but not my world. He is my future, but I am not his future. All that I do, and have done, is for him. Pain and longing stab at my being. Stubbornly, I will not give him the satisfaction of shedding tears. I turn away to shut out the night.

She has been my salvation, my redemption. She is the world to me. I need no one in my future but her, she makes me a whole person. All that I do, and have done, is for her. Ecstasy and desire fill my being.

Unashamedly, for her, tears wet my face. I turn away to begin the day.

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