Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, FOX .... they are the lucky owners of these characters. Me -- I just like to play with them. Also, there are discrepancies between what I've written here and some of the details in the movie. I was working from memory so please pardon any inaccuracies ... except for the *obvious* changes I've made :) ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ THE BEE SCENE REVISITED by TrexPhile July 1998 She found him sitting hunched over at his desk, the fading twilight the only illumination in the room. She pushed the door open more and at the sound, he looked up from something in his lap, then stood letting the object -- a photo album? -- drop to the floor. She was worn out. And she knew she looked it. Her once pristine, impeccable suit was disheveled and dirty after the ordeals of the past forty-eight hours, not the least being the interminable time she had just spent with the remediation committee. It had all been child's play compared to the task that now lay before her. With effort she spoke. "Salt Lake City, Utah. Transfer effective immediately." He didn't say anything. She knew from his expression that he hadn't yet grasped the full meaning of her words. "I already gave Skinner my letter of resignation," she continued, a part of her amazed that she was actually capable of saying the words. He approached her. "You can't quit, Scully." Confrontation. Why must there always be confrontation in so many aspects of her life? She wanted to be angry with him but she was just too tired. "I can, Mulder. I debated whether or not to even tell you in person..." No. She didn't want to go there, didn't want what might be their last conversation to end this way. She would just leave, put it all behind her and start anew ... if it was possible to do so while leaving so much of herself behind with him. He stepped closer to her. He wasn't going to let her leave, she knew. Not yet. "We're close to something here." The desperation rose in his voice and it drew her back to him, despite her effort to keep her distance. "We're on the verge - -" She interrupted him, unable to avoid slipping into the familiar pattern of debate that they shared, that sustained them. "*You're* on the verge, Mulder." And then, as quickly as it had arisen, the comforting bond of words dissipated. She just couldn't let it happen, couldn't let him once again pull her to his side. It would just make it that much harder to do what she had to do. She turned away. "Please don't do this to me." He wasn't ready to give up yet. She really didn't expect him to, despite her wishes to the contrary. He was Fox Mulder, after all. "After what you saw last night, after all you've seen, Scully, you can't just walk away." Damn him. Why couldn't he just let it go, finally accept the reality of it all. "I have. I did. It's done. I'm contacting the State Board on Monday to file my medical reinstatement papers." "But I need you on this, Scully!" Something broke in her at his words. Something precious was dying there in that room, its life force fading with the waning rays of the sun. She wanted so badly to breathe life into it even as she spoke the words that would still its desperate struggles forever. "You don't need me, Mulder. You never have. I've only held you back." Images, words, emotions ripped through her, over five years of memories. There was so much she wanted to say, both to prove and disprove her point, the dichotomy battling within her. She wanted so badly for him to convince her to stay yet knew that she could not accept that conviction. She took the coward's way out. "I've got to go." She turned quickly and left the apartment. She was almost to the elevator, holding back her tears until she had made her escape, her emotions roiling within her. She was barely able to see in front of her, could hear only the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, desperate to get away. "Scully!" She startled, then whirled to face him as he ran toward her. "You're wrong." Her anger rose past everything else. Why wouldn't he just let her leave, let it die? "Why was I assigned to you?" she said, frustration pushing the words from her. "To debunk your work. To rein you in. To shut you down." "No. You've saved me, Scully." His words shocked her into silence and she could do nothing but just stare at him. He laid his hands on her shoulders. "As difficult and frustrating as it's been sometimes, your goddamned strict rationalism and science have saved me a thousand times over." The passion in his voice, in his face was not new to her. But to see it directed at her, for her, so intensely... She felt as if she couldn't breathe, as if the only thing keeping her alive was the connection of his touch and his gaze. Her tears welled up and for the first time, she didn't care if he saw them. "You've kept me honest. You've made me a whole person." His voice broke and she felt him struggle to keep hold. "I owe you so much, Scully, and you owe me nothing." His voice dropped to a whisper and the words sent a pain through her heart. "I don't want to do this without you. I don't know if I can. And if I quit, they win." He was right. They, whoever or whatever they were, would win. And suddenly with a flash of clarity she saw before her not a strong, willful, brilliant FBI agent determined to find the truth despite all costs but a frightened, uncertain, vulnerable man who had lost more than anyone should have to lose, a man balancing precariously on the edge of a precipice -- and she was the only soul who still held on to him, the only one keeping him from plunging into the unknown. With this clarity, she felt her emotions calm and she took his face in her hands, sliding one hand to the back of his neck. She stretched up and, bringing his head down, kissed his forehead. She let her lips linger for a moment, feeling his finger tighten on her shoulders. With the kiss, she bestowed her strength, her trust and her absolution. She pulled back. His head was still lowered, almost penitently. She kept one hand on the back of his neck, not yet willing to break their physical connection. It was better that it end this way. She hoped that he was feeling the same peace that she was feeling. He raised his head and his eyes locked on hers. And then she had another moment of clarity, the power of its revelation flooding through every cell of her body and mind. I love him. It hit her so hard she almost staggered. She could never leave him. She would never leave him. She knew then without a doubt that she could no sooner leave him than decide to stop breathing and expect to continue living. He was her breath, her heart, her soul, her mind, her everything. She looked into his eyes, past the warm soft hazel depths, deeper than she'd ever gone before -- and found confirmation. He loves me. A tear slipped down her cheek. She felt his hand move to her face -- soft, warm, right. She pressed her fingers into the back of his neck very slightly, almost unconsciously. And then he was moving toward her. She dropped her gaze to his lips, those lips. Ever so slowly, they came closer together. She closed her eyes. And then their lips touched, so lightly that it could barely be termed a kiss. Yet that touch sent a shock through her that she was unprepared for. She tightened her grip on his neck and brought her other hand up, moving to his shoulder, trying to steady herself. She pressed her lips tighter against his, and he wrapped his arm around her back, pressing her body firmly against his. She moaned deep in her throat, not meaning to, totally unable to keep from it. It was so perfect, so right. He pulled back, breaking contact, his lips bare millimeters from hers. "Scully." The word was a breathy sigh that caressed her lips. She wanted more, needed more, would die right here in his arms if she couldn't have more right now. Without opening her eyes, she leaned in and found his mouth again, parting her lips, feeling the soft fullness of his, the hunger so intense that it hurt. She moved her lips against his, seeking, her tongue joining the quest and then it was his turn to moan. He squeezed his arms tightly around her and surrendered to her, the victory sweet and inevitable and shared by both. She no longer cared whether it was improper or unacceptable or even dangerous. All she wanted was him, all of him -- heart, soul and body. She entangled her fingers in his hair as the kiss deepened, felt his hands moving in slow patterns across her back, massaging her skin under her shirt. His touch was like blessed fire and she threw herself into the inferno willingly. The flames licked at her body, blazing into her very core. He pulled away, gasping, she doing the same. "Scully?" His eyes were glistening with tears, his voice barely audible. "Mulder ..." she breathed, her gaze locked on his. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to reveal. And she was ready to do so with her mouth and her hands and her body. "Scully, please don't leave me." It was almost a sob. She pressed the palm of her hand against his cheek. "I'm not going anywhere." He clutched her tightly then, pressing his face into her hair. "Thank you..." she heard him murmur. They stood for a long moment, their hearts pounding against each other, as she grew more and more aware of the heat of his body against hers. She drew back and took his face in her hands. "Mulder," she whispered and pulled his face toward hers again. A sudden stabbing pain in the back of neck caused her to cry out. She slapped her hand against the pain. "Scully?" He gripped her shoulders and bent to look at her. She rubbed her neck, trying to massage the burning away. "I think something stung me..." He pushed her forehead into his chest as he bent over her head, probing her neck with his fingers. "A bee," he said simply and she snapped her head up to see him holding a dying bee between his fingers. "It must have been under your collar." She nodded, rubbing at her neck. It hurt like hell. Suddenly a wave of dizziness swept over her. She clutched at Mulder's shirt, trying to steady herself. "Mulder," she managed, suddenly very afraid. "Something's wrong..." "Scully?" Her legs were suddenly too weak to hold her up. "What is it??" A sharp pain ripped through her chest, taking her breath away. She struggled to get the words out. "I'm having lancinating pain in my chest..." "What??" Mulder gripped her tightly as she sagged against him. Oh God, she thought as terror flowed through her. What's happening to me? She reached out for the rational doctor within, trying to find a foothold within the quagmire of her growing fear. He lowered her to the floor as her legs gave out completely. The scientist in her forced her to stay focused, to stay afloat above the turbulent terror that was threatening to suck her under. "My motor functions are being affected." She felt him ease her gently onto her back as she concentrated on her symptoms. "My pulse is thready..." She was having difficulty focusing her vision on him above her. Panic began to overwhelm her as her mind screamed and flitted through different scenarios, each ending the same way. I'm going to die. Within her clamoring thoughts, something new caught her attention. "I have a funny taste in the back of my throat." She could barely see now, could barely feel her extremities ... and then her throat began closing up. She inhaled sharply, trying to force air through the narrowing passage. She heard Mulder's voice. "You're going into anaphylactic shock. Darkness began creeping up on the edges of her vision and she took a deep shuddering breath. Somehow she managed to push the words out. "I have no allergy." She struggled to take another breath, those few words having depleted her strength. The darkness encroached steadily and she could do nothing to keep it at bay. She was dimly aware as she held on desperately to the last shreds of her consciousness that Mulder was running back down the hall to his apartment. Help me Mulder I don't want to die The darkness swallowed her.