TITLE:  Three Steps Forward
AUTHOR:  Susanne Barringer
EMAIL:  sbarringer@usa.net
ARCHIVE: Anywhere okay with these headers attached.
CATEGORY: VAR
KEYWORDS:  Mulder/Scully romance
SPOILERS:  none
RATING:  R
SUMMARY:   Sequel to "One Step" and "Two Steps Back."
DICLAIMER:  Characters borrowed from Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox.  
No money being made from their use; no infringement intended.


I wasn't sure there would be a third one, but this piece wrote itself.  I guess 
it's now the Steps series.  Enjoy.

______________


Three Steps Forward
by Susanne Barringer


Mulder doesn't miss a single opportunity to make me suffer for the choice I 
have made.  Whenever we are alone and not officially on the job, he is in 
my face, touching me, standing too close, driving me insane.  He traps me 
up against walls, sits too close to me in restaurants, brushes against me 
when we're walking, and just looks at me with his heart in his eyes.  I don't 
understand why he is doing it, why he hasn't given up.  It doesn't make me 
feel any less terrified.  I have made the decision.  I cannot go back on it 
now.  I step away from him every time, even in my dreams.  He tries again.  
How did he come to know me so well, to know that every step away from 
him is a struggle within my soul, a struggle that I am slowly but surely 
losing?  How many times must I step away before he relinquishes his siege?

We have just finished a case, and Mulder is in my hotel room, as he usually 
is, helping complete the report.  Actually, the report is finished, yet Mulder 
remains.  I wish he would leave.  I yearn for him to stay.  I don't know 
what I expect.

I stretch my arms and yawn, thinking maybe Mulder will get a clue.  He 
doesn't.  He just smiles that smile and teases me with his eyes.  I go to the 
bathroom to give myself some space.  Despite the fact that the decision has 
been made, his presence continues to fluster me.  He does not make it easy.  
As I come out of the bathroom, Mulder is standing right there, as he 
always seems to be recently.  I instinctively step back and find myself 
pressed against the wall.  My heart vaults in terror as Mulder steps 
forward.

He stands in front of me and places his palm against the wall, just above 
and to the right of my head.  He leans forward, his propped arm blocking 
my escape, leaving me no way out.  Then, he waits.  I am trapped.  I 
cannot move.  The panic pounds down upon me again.  I have been here 
before, with walls and his closeness encircling me, the fear leaving no room 
to breathe.  His lips hover near mine, but not too close, just sort of running 
in front of my face without actually touching it, the way they would if he 
were kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my neck, my eyebrows, my nose.  
He is getting more daring.  I can feel him breathe, always more steadily 
than I do.  It is calm, unlike the gulps of air I am taking in an attempt to 
arrest the dizziness, the disorientation.  I can smell him, smell what he 
wants from me.  

Finally, he lowers his arm, moves slightly away, giving me room to step 
out, step away.  Now is my chance.  His eyes challenge me, dare me to do 
it.  I don't know how many more times I can.  He gives me only a few 
seconds to decide, and when I don't, he steps closer again.  I feel relief, 
terror, I don't know what, as his lips come close to mine again but don't 
touch.  There is nowhere else for me to go.  I close my eyes, willing it, 
begging for it, wishing for it all to go away, hoping that he will disappear.  
The confusion strangles me.  I feel myself lean forward slightly, just a 
fraction of a move forward, but it brings my body in contact with his, just 
our edges.  My breath trembles.  Did I do that?  Did I decide that?  I must 
have.  We are touching.  In the darkness of my eyes closed against him, I 
feel his lips brush my forehead, barely perceptible.  

Then I feel him move away, and when I open my eyes I see he has stepped 
back.  A long way.  He is barely within arm's reach.  I feel my pounding 
heart slow, the adrenaline cease.  The threat has gone and my fear breathes 
easy.  A smile plays around the corners of his mouth, and suddenly I 
understand.  He will not let me accept passively.  He will not let this 
happen by default, by my not stepping away.  He wants me take the steps.

I meet his eyes and I see in them all he is offering me.  My body shivers 
with the overture; it is so much more than I thought.  Everything.  He is 
offering me everything.  My apprehension skirmishes with what I see in his 
eyes.  Don't be afraid, his eyes say to me, there is nothing to fear.  I want to 
believe.  I want to believe there is sanctuary in the decision.

He waits.  He has waited a long time.  I watch his face carefully as I move 
one foot forward.  One step.  His face does not change, but his eyes 
encourage me, reassure me.  He will not give away his hand, but I know he 
is desperately willing me to do this.  I take one more step and we are now 
just a step away.  Again.  My God, how often have we been here?  How 
many times has one of us stepped back instead of forward?  I swallow hard 
with the realization of what I am about to do, trying to control the 
trembling of my entire body and soul.  Then, I take the last step.  Three 
steps forward and now I stand in front of him, touching him.

He smiles at me and releases a long, wavering sigh that whispers to my 
very being.  His arms wrap around me and pull me to him and God help me 
it feels so good.  Cold fear and hot desire clash and merge, sending my 
heart into a rhythm of surrender.  His heart, steady and solid, beats under 
my ear, murmuring to me not to be afraid.  I feel him pull away slightly; he 
tilts my face up, leans down.  His lips approach mine like before, like in my 
dreams, no bee, no virus, it is happening, our lips touch.  

Oh my God, so right, so right, spinning, quivering, soft lips, taste of man, 
hands on my back, pulled closer, lights in the darkness, rush of wetness, 
spinning out of control, then distance, lips move away, I lean forward, find 
them again, press mine against his, softness, desire, taste of him, soft lips, 
they part, I enter, I taste him, he moans, vibration through me, tongues 
clash, question, challenge, accept, fear disintegrates, fear decays, fear 
becomes need, intensity, power, struggle, desperation, heat, ache, so right, 
more, more, more, so right, please God more.


END

_____________


All better?
feedback needed: sbarringer@usa.net

All my fanfic available at my webpage:
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dreamworld/2442