SILENT CONFESSIONS By T Bishop

Rated: S for Shippy Category: V/MSR/Post ep for Dead/Alive 
Summary:  Did he or didn't he?  Scully believes.

Disclaimer: Just borrowing.

Feedback: tbishop27@mindspring.com

Author's Notes:  Thanks to David, Tracy and Marybeth for beta, 
and to Grasshopper for keeping up the archive.

You can find all my stories at The Literary G-Spot 
http://tbishop.freeservers.com/ or 
http://arcticfox42.phpwebhosting.com/Tbishop.htm







SILENT CONFESSIONS



I'm certain of it - his silent confession.  I saw the words move 
over his beautiful lips, felt them stroke my heart with a gentle 
caress recognized instantly as my soul mate's touch.

I love you.

I did not need to hear to believe.  His eyes lit with the truth 
of his declaration, echoing the joy I felt reverberating through 
every fiber of my being.

I love you.

The affirmation I thought I'd never receive; my hope having been 
laid to rest beneath an early snowfall - six feet under the 
frozen earth, dead as the decaying leaves that littered the 
ground around Mulder's grave.

As his resurrection brought the rebirth of my resolve, the will 
to believe again, to fight the fight and carry on, his avowal of 
love revives my cold heart, the empty chambers flooding with 
warmth and pulsing to life once again.

He doesn't have to search my crying eyes to see that I am no 
longer the skeptic.  Three words, not even whispered; my wide 
smile belies all doubt.  

Yes, read my face, Mulder.  The truth is there; it's pouring out 
of me with every teardrop, my own silent confession of weakness.

I love you, too.

So many tears I've shed, for Mulder, for me, for the baby growing 
in my womb.  Each drop bled from my eyes drained my soul.  For a 
time I thought the well had gone dry.  I stopped crying, stopped 
feeling.  I wasn't even sure if I was breathing anymore.  
Existence - without Mulder that was all I had left.  Certainly 
the state I was in couldn't have been deemed living.  Further 
proof that we share a bond beyond the physical plane.  

Now, as I rest my head upon his chest, feeling his lungs fill 
with vital air, listening to the blessed rhythmic beating of his 
heart, my tears are happy ones, nourishing like summer rain.  I 
let them fall without reserve, welcoming their healing 
properties.    

It's time to live again, for both of us.

And we are in love.





~END~





Life is too short to drink bad wine.    





Author's endnotes:  How could I possibly leave this alone?  I 
tried to keep it brief, knowing how much is going to be said on 
the subject.  Thank you for being patient with my shippy muse.  
It's been dying to come out and play again.

T Bishop

Read THE POWER OF NOW by Eckhart Tolle!!!