Title: Fight the Fantasy
Author: xf-stew
Rating: NC-17
Classification: Story, Romance, Slash, Humor (I hope)
Spoilers:  that movie-thing
Summary:  Kaz and Scully spend a nice Saturday afternoon discussing
stereo manuals, societal labelling, the Indigo Girls, and a really icky
dream about something that could just *never* happen.

Archive info:  lets put it on the old scullyslash archive, but I'd like
others to ask, please.  Thanks.

Disclaimer:  I don't own the X-Files characters (or Blythe Danner, for
that matter).


Fight the Fantasy
by xf-stew
(xf-stew@geocities.com)

Part one:  Directions for Dykes

"Read that again, will ya?" I asked as I struggled to steady the large
speaker on the shelf above my head, untangle the mass of wires that
streamed from every possible orifice in the system, and keep the
precarious balance I was maintaining on the stool beneath my feet.

A silken voice began to re-read the incomprehensible instructions from
the manual, "Connect the surround sound speaker to the AC jack through
main auxiliary terminal A.  If auxiliary terminal A is in use with the
sub-woofer jack, then connect the surround sound speaker to--"

I stopped listening to the words, but let her sweet voice flow over me
as I continued my struggle, sifting through the wires with my good hand
while I prayed the other wouldn't slip and let the speaker crack me on
the head.

After a full thirty seconds of this, I blew out an exasperated breath.
"Remind me again. How did *I* get nominated for this part of the job?"

Behind me I could sense her lifting one corner of her mouth into a tiny
smile.

"Because you're about seven inches taller than me.  Remember?"

"Oh yeah, there is that..."

"So you got it in terminal A?"

"Okay...there," I said with triumphant finality.  "I think I got it.
What's next?"

I heard pages flip behind me and disentangled a hand to wipe beads of
perspiration from my brow.  The sun was beating down hard on the stone
patio where we stood installing the new stereo system.  It was a warm
summer day that instilled in me an irrepressible sense of optimism and
hope.  Summer in general just made me...well, irrepressible.

Add to that the fact that I was spending the summer with the woman I was
madly in love with and I was in absolute heaven.

Except for the fucking speakers that I couldn't seem to comprehend.
Neither could she, for that matter.  Between us we had a law and a
medical degree, formal FBI training (at Quantico, no less), and
Commander status in the United States Navy.

And we *still* couldn't figure out a goddamned stereo system.

I glanced back at her, amused all over again by her vast sun-combating
arsenal.  A black ball cap covered her mane of striking auburn hair and
kept the harmful UV rays off her fair Irish face.  Loose khaki pants
covered her legs.  Her only concession to comfort was the light blue
t-shirt she wore, though she'd been sure to lube up her arms with and
appallingly liberal amount of sunscreen whose SPF factor made my eyes
almost pop out of my head.

But I was so lucky to have her.  Our ordeal of the past month made me
realize it all over again.  I'd come so close to losing her...God, I
couldn't even contemplate it.  I don't know what I would do without her
in my life.

She was still thin, almost painfully thin, in my estimation, though I'd
never say that to her.  She was trying so hard to gain the weight back,
and some of it had come.  She no longer looked gaunt, and I could no
longer count her ribs when she took off her shirt at night when we laid
down in our bed.  With every pound she gained, I felt that much more
confident in her recovery.  The relief this gave me almost made me
tremble sometimes.

She had come so close to the edge.

I watched her as she studied the manual and read out loud, "Now take
male connector C4 and plug it into its female counterpart on the rear
left of the speaker console."

"Huh?"

She clicked her tongue, growing tired of repeating every set of
directions.  Little did she know I did it only half out of necessity.
The rest of the time, I simply wanted to look at her, to hear the words
roll off her tongue.  I loved the sound of her voice.  I could listen
raptly to it for hours on end.  She was simply amazing.

"Connector C4?" she repeated, the question lightly sarcastic. "Insert
the male end into the female connection base."

My eyebrows lifted, "Male?  Female?  INSERT?!  What *is* that you're
reading over there?  A politically correct porno mag, or a stereo
guide?"

"No, it's the back of a box of Trojans--of course it's the stereo
guide.  It says this stuff right here.  Now just do it, will you Kaz?"

I turned back and stared dumbly at the wad of connection wires in my
hand.  I searched through them for a full minute before letting out a
frustrated scowl.  I had no idea stereos came with reproductive organs,
and was becoming more lost by the second.

"Scully?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it."

She regarded me, "What don't you get?"

"This male-part, female-part thing.  What're they talking about?  It's a
stereo, for God's sake."

She snickered a little, "The 'male' part is the connector, the wire, the
plug-in.  You put it in the so-called 'female' part, the connection
base."

"Oh."

She dropped the instructions on the patio table.  Her small hands went
to her hips as she pursed her lips.  I could feel her irritation with me
grow.

"We've been going at this for over an hour Kaz, and you're just now
asking me that?  My God, how confused have you been?"

"Well, uh...to tell you the truth--very.  Wait, I've got an idea.  I'm
not understanding this *blatantly* heterosexual instruction booklet very
well.  Why don't you run back to the store and ask the guy if he's got
some directions for dykes."

The tension went out of her shoulders.  Her face softened.  I saw the
corner of her mouth turn up.  The other soon joined it, and a chuckle
escaped her throat.  It was followed by another and another until she
opened her mouth to let out a spray of laughter.  The rare sound of it
was music to my ears.

When she had a handle on the torrent and slowed it to a mere trickle,
she said, "Dykes?  Dykes?!  Did you just call yourself a dyke?"

I shrugged, "Sure.  I am, aren't I?"

The laughter began anew as she shook her head, "You are *so* not a
dyke."

That made me smile. "Why thank you.  I'm glad you don't see me as a
dyke."  I turned back to the jumble of wires in my hands.

"Well?" she said expectantly.

"Well, what?" I replied, knowing exactly what she was waiting for.

"Well--aren't you going to make the reciprocative statement?"

"Hang on for just a second, will you?  I'm picturing you with a crew
cut, no bra, and cut-offs from last century."

She glided over and gave me a playful punch in the leg. "Smartass."

"We both know you're not a 'dyke,' Scully."

She paused for a second, looking up at me.  I let my sunglasses slip
down my nose so she could see my eyes.  I had a feeling this was going
to turn into a serious conversation.

I was correct, for in a moment she said, "If we're not 'dykes,' then
what are we?"

The heaviness of the statement drew all of my attention.  I set the
cords on the shelf and stepped off the stool.  I removed my glasses and
looked down at her.  She pulled her own off, and I caught once again the
full force of her startling blue eyes, they shined with life once again,
just as they had before our recent battle with the darkness that had
invaded her body.

I reached out and hooked two of her fingers with my own. "I can't speak
for you, I suppose, but I know about myself.  I'm gay.  I tried really
hard to be straight when I was younger.  I truly did.  But
heterosexuality just doesn't work for me.  I like girls, and one in
particular." I grinned at her. "It's taken me awhile to figure out, to
admit to myself, but I am most definitely gay."

My statement was true, though I'd only come to terms with the knowledge
of it during the time I'd known her.

"And you know what?" I continued, "I'm completely fine with it.  I
accept it as a part of who I am.  In fact, I'm really glad I'm gay.  If
I wasn't, I'd have missed out on the love of my life."

She smiled sweetly and nodded at me, confirming her mutual feelings
without words.  She didn't often need them, for her face was so
expressive, and I was so focused on every tiny nuance of it.  She spoke
more to me with her body than with her golden voice.

But then, she did speak, "I'm not really sure if I'm gay or not.  This
may sound strange, but I hadn't really thought much about it.  Then I
met you, and what we had between us just seemed so right.  I took that
step with you without hesitating, without analyzing it to death like I
do most everything else."

I nodded, "I know you do, but I'm glad you followed your heart on that
night."

"It always knows best, doesn't it?  Those turned out to be the best set
of decisions I've ever made.  As for my sexual orientation, well--it
just doesn't seem to matter.  Things like that are just labels,
taglines; and I just don't think I need or want a label for myself
anymore."

My expression must have been sufficiently inquisitive, for she went on
to explain, "It doesn't matter whether I'm gay or bisexual or whatever,
because I'm not looking anymore.  I've found the person I was meant to
be with.  I know that in my heart."  She came up and wrapped her arms
around me. "So--call me gay."

I laughed, "Like, 'Call me Ishmael?'"

"Ha-ha.  Very funny."

She leaned up for a quick kiss, then laid her hat-covered head on my
shoulder. "I'm in love with you Kaz.  This was meant to be."

I held her in my arms and rocked us slowly from side to side, "I love
you too, honey."

She gently pulled back, "If you love me, then prove it."

"And just what particular hoop would you like me to jump through, my
love?"

She pointed to the stool and gave me an expectant authoritarian look,
"Set up the damn stereo already!"

I shook my head and chuckled as I climbed back up on the stool and
grabbed the tangle of connection cords once again.

****************
END OF PART ONE
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