Title: Fade to Grey
Author: Lark
E-mail: theagents1013@yahoo.com
Keywords: MSR
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: A letter in a dark office leads to a bright revelation.
Feedback: Always, but flames will be deleted!
Disclaimer: The X-Files and all characters belong to Chris Carter, genius god among men, and 1013 Productions. The song "Fade to Grey" is written by and belongs to Jars of Clay, which, I might add, is an amazing song. All are used without permission, but I am not making any money off of this story, much to my dismay. :)

Author's Note: Hello again! I hope that this isn't one of my sorrier attempts at writing. ::grin:: Honest to the gods, I heard the song that I'm using in the store where I work. It's on the monthly tape, and while I don't usually listen to Jars of Clay, this song totally jumped at me. The lyrics, paired with the music, totally screamed MULDER AND SCULLY at me, as well as reminding me of some of my own personal relationships. I ran out and bought the CD. I suggest you do the same. Anyway, this is yet another SHIPPY piece…deal with it, it's my only outlet of complaint against Chris! :) Enjoy!


Fade to Grey (1/1)


She walks into the silent, darkened room. He is not there, but like him, she finds her repose and solace in this calm place. It is a strange contrast to the daylight, where there is pure chaos, noise, and no place to hear one's mind. She sits at her desk for a moment, trying to relax the hectic thoughts that have followed her during the day. When she looks up, she sees the envelope. It is plain, simplistic, colorless. But on the side facing her, she sees the elongated, handsome script that spells out her name. It is his handwriting, and this is what catches her eye. Gently, she lifts the envelope and removes the piece of paper inside. A letter, in the same writing, and again, it holds her name:


Dear Scully~


For years I have wanted to express what I feel for you, but have always lacked the words. You, of all people, know that I find it hard to speak of my feelings and emotions. Now, I have found the perfect way to describe those things that I have kept bottled up for these 6 long years. Read on. The words that I write now are not my own, but they are what I feel we have wanted to say to each other for so long:

Oh, it's not hard to know what you're thinking
When you look down on me now
Your trance of love is seeking
To turn this world around
But in my state of blind confusion
No god can pull me out
I see your love is willing
To turn me inside out

And then I see you there
The lonely tears I cry
I wish they'd release me

It's in despair that I find faith
Summons the night to bow down to day
If ignorance is bliss
Won't you save me from myself

And then I see you there
With your arms open wide and you try to embrace me
These lonely tears I cry
They keep me in chains and I wish they'd release me
Cold is the night but
Colder still is the heart made of stone turned from clay
And if you'd follow me
You'll see all the black, all the white fade to grey.


Scully, read these words carefully. It's a song that struck me out of nowhere, and I find that it is the most profound statement that I can offer you. Of love, of life, of our lives together, and most of all, an asking and receiving of trust. The way I see it is this: I love you. And I think that you feel the same way. Call me over-confident, but you are all I've ever hoped for, and I know that I am far from good for you, but can you blame me for entertaining the possibility that you might love me, too? You are my light in dark places, and I look forward to every day I have with you. I smile as I write this because I know what you're thinking, but even if this never goes anywhere, you'll always be the best friend I've ever had.


I love you. Mulder


Hands shaking, she reads the letter over again, carefully. The pure shock, followed by the glow of a soft smile across her face, is too endearing for him. She finally looks up towards the doorway and sees him standing there, watching the unguarded emotions flashing across her face and in her eyes. She stands up as he walks towards her and meets him halfway-an unconscious symbol of their relationship. He grasps her hands in his and draws her near. She looks up into his eyes, and he slowly lowers his lips to her hair, her forehead, her face, and finally to her mouth. Their kiss is slow, tender, and warm-the way they have both have dreamed it to be. Its beginning is almost chaste, but not lacking in the passion that slowly mounts as their love and want consume them in an eternal flame.

"I love you too," she breathes.

He smiles around her mouth, because his hope has become reality.


The End.




"A friend is always good to have, but a lover's kiss is better than angels raining down upon me." ~Dave Matthews Band~