Title: Nothing But Love Songs

Author: J.D. Rush

Email Address: yanksfan462@aol.com

Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/gimgolas/

Category: Gen/Het

Series: Big Things Universe; follows "Coffee Kisses"

Pairing: Frohike/Scully

Rating: PG, mostly for smutty thoughts

Summary: Dana reflects on her feelings for Mel.

Spoilers: sight paraphrased quote from "Rain King"

Disclaimer: CC, yadda. 1013, yadda, yadda. FOX yadda, yadda, yadda. Opening lyrics are by REO Speedwagon. Title comes from a joke by comedian Lewis Black.

Author's Note: I know it's been a while (does 3+ years equal 'a while'?) so here's a quick summary of my "Big Things" Universe: 1) Season 9, for the most part, never happened, which means no dead Gunmen, no 'The Truth', and Billy is just a normal, healthy adorable baby, not some psycho super-soldier. 2) Scully is married to Frohike, albeit as 'friends only', though that could change. 3) Byers is dating Monica Reyes, though THAT could change. 4) Mulder is living in sin with Skinner, and they're both obnoxiously happy--this is where you've come in. 

No betas were harmed in the making of this story

NOTHING BUT LOVE SONGS
Sunday, August 25, 2002

"I can't fight this feeling any longer.
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show. 

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.
I said there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear." 1

Dr. Dana Scully's Private Journal

What a night!  What a beautiful, perfect, warm summer night.  Relaxing under our shady elm tree, typing on my laptop, tummy full from the delicious burgers Mel grilled up for dinner.  Can life get any better?  I hardly think so.
 
Chef Frohike, having fulfilled his culinary duties, has spent the last half hour or so doggedly attempting to teach Billy the fundamentals of baseball.  He's currently explaining the 'infield fly rule' but the only flies our son seems interested in are the fireflies that are flitting about the yard.  He's toddling around--Blue scampering happily after him--trying to catch the little dots of light, all but ignoring his 'coach'.

Poor Mel.  He's got such a good heart, and I love him to pieces, but he can be a bit over exuberant.  He's just so eager to do 'father/son' things with Billy that sometimes his expectations are too high, especially when it comes to his love of baseball.  I can't count the number of times I've told him that it was too soon, that Billy wasn't old enough yet, but he just replied that if our son was ever going to be the future center fielder for the New York Yankees, we had to start him NOW.

Naturally, Mulder hasn't been any help in the matter.  When I complained to him about Mel's athletic aspirations for Billy, he just laughed.  Of course, I am dealing with a man whose 'holy trinity' consists of The Babe, The Mick, and Joltin' Joe DiMaggio.  I think he's just happy to see Frohike is creating a solid theological foundation for the boy.

I only hope I'm not around when Mel gets to the scratching and spitting lessons. 

If there's one thing I can complain about on this spectacular night, it's the radio playing from Mrs. Zimmer's house next door.  Not that she's blasting us out or anything--it's the annoying station she's got it tuned to while she's been puttering in her vegetable garden.  She's a nice lady, don't get me wrong, but her taste in music leaves a lot to be desired.  Tonight, instead of her usual country western channel, she's got it switched to one of those 'easy listening' stations, which has been bombarding us with a barrage of love songs for the past couple of hours.  Love found, love lost, love that was never meant to be.  Obsessive love, angsty love, true love.  Love-gone-bad, love-unrequited, love-everlasting.  Doomed love.  Indifferent love.  Redemptive love.  You name it, they've played it.  One song after another. 

Seriously, isn't there another topic people can write about?

Well, maybe not, because here I am, doing the same thing.  And it's all because of yet another love song that played a little while ago.  I think it's called "Can't Fight This Feeling", but I'm not sure, and don't ask which band recorded it--I don't have a clue.  It's just one of those old songs that you've heard for many years in many places and on many stations and you don't really pay much attention to it, but you know it well enough to catch yourself singing along to it occasionally.  Then, one day, you actually listen--really listen--to the lyrics and find yourself shocked at how much they say.

I sat, stunned, as the familiar emotions of the song flowed over me--those of friendship, love, longing, fear of rejection, fear of the unknown.  It was as if someone had gotten into my head and wove all my thoughts and feelings into music. 

As though sensing I'm thinking about him, Mel looks up and smiles at me.  He assumes I'm working on next week's class plan, and perhaps I should be doing exactly that, but there are some things on my mind--have been on my mind for weeks now--and perhaps, writing them down, I can make some sense of them.

You see, I want Mel.

Yes, I know, I've said that before--or have at least thought it.  The sentiment is nothing new, reflecting my deepening feelings for Mel.  It's something that I've been battling for months now, as my shower massager would gladly attest to.  Not quite sure how those feelings snuck up on me and began to take over my life, but there it is.  If I deny them any longer, I'm only lying to myself, and believe me, I did that for too many years while working on the X-Files.  You can only con yourself so long, Dana Katherine, and this is where the deception ends.  No, for once I'm not going to allow my scientific side try to talk me out of what my heart tells me.  Whatever else I have refused to believe in the past--even when I saw it with my own eyes--I'm not going to belittle these feelings no matter how improbable they may seem to others.  

Because people change.  I'VE changed.  I'm not the same person I was ten years ago.  Hell, I'm not the same person I was ONE year ago.  And so, against all odds, I have found myself lusting after Melvin Frohike, and aching for his touch. 

But then again, is that really so odd?  Sex is more than just a physical attraction, after all.  Oh, damn, that didn't come out right.  It makes me sound like I'm not attracted to Mel.  I am.  He's warm and comfortable and familiar, and there's something very soothing about cuddling up to him.  Wow, that just made him sound like a wool blanket.  I just mean that while he may not be overtly handsome, he's got his own style that's charming.  Masculine, old fashioned, a throwback to another time.  And for all his macho posturing, he's very sweet--considerate and thoughtful and sweet. The kind of guy they just don't make anymore.  He might not be Brad Pitt, but when he takes the time with his appearance, he's really not a bad looking man.

Oh, God, that makes me sound even more shallow than before.  The point I'm trying to make is that BESIDES the physical attraction, sex is also an emotional and psychological bond as well.  Maybe not the stuff of romance novels and cheesy daytime soap operas--as my scientific side makes its usual annoying presence known once more--but true nonetheless.  And Mel has touched me deeply on levels I never experienced before.

That's something that I never thought I'd ever say.  Of course, I never thought I'd be married to him either--even if it is just as 'friends'--and yet, that's turned out better than either of us could have predicted.  Is it simply that closeness, that everyday togetherness that is affecting me?  That by being with him all the time I've come to discover what a unique, wonderful man Mel really is?

It's either that, or the fact that his kisses make me tingle.

From flirtatious sex fiend to helpful business associate to close friend and confidant to . . . object of desire and passion?  Now who could have seen THAT one coming?  But as I sit here and watch him playing with our son, I can't imagine a better father for William--or a better companion for myself.

Okay, be honest.  I'm not saying this past year has been completely smooth sailing.  We've had a few squabbles and our share of disagreements, not to mention a couple of really nasty arguments. No crockery has been tossed, but any time two fiery personalities like us square off, fireworks can be expected to explode occasionally.  However we've always talked through any problem we had--once we both cooled off, that is--and even if we could only decide to 'agree to disagree', we've settled each matter with an apology and a kiss. 

Hell, I never even got an apology from Mulder most of the time.

A little bending, a little compromise, and a little tolerance for each other's differences--those are the building blocks to any good, solid relationship.  After all, as many people know, it's sometimes easier to love someone than it is to like them.  As long-time friends, Mel and I already knew we liked each other, even if the love took a bit longer to reveal itself.  At least it did in my case.

Overall, I'd have to say our relationship is pretty normal, and probably better than most couples can boast.  Never underestimate the power of a strong friendship.

You know, one of our old X-files comes to mind.  A classic lover's triangle, with a twist.  Girl in love with one man, while another man pined for the girl, his unrequited love manifesting itself in bizarre weather events.  Not quite Romeo and Juliet, I suppose.  The big problem was that the weather guy and the girl were best friends, nothing more.  She had no idea of her friend's feelings for her, and when confronted with them, nervously laughed them off.  I remember telling her that the best relationships were often the ones that began as friendships.  That you go through life, never seeing the other person as anything other than a buddy, then one day, without warning, you realize that friend is the only person you can imagine spending your life with.

I might have sounded like a prophet, but kudos really has to go to "Dear Abby", whose column I was quoting.  All that's important is that my advice worked, and the girl and the weather guy got together and lived happily ever after, as far as we know.  At the very least, we haven't heard of any more airborne heifers, so we're pretty sure the case was solved.

Thing is, when I had first read that column years ago, I had thought Abby was talking to me and Mulder.  Those early years of working together, I could have easily fallen in love with my best friend, and maybe I did.  But as the years went by I knew, no matter how much I loved him, or he loved me, his quest would always come first in his life.  Maybe a younger me, a less self-possessed me, would have been able to accept that, and perhaps it would have been enough to make me happy.  After all, I had given up parts of myself before to please my lovers, so it wasn't impossible.  But I had finally reached a point in my life where I had been through too much to play games anymore, and I had too much self-esteem to come second in any man's life. 

And that's something I knew I'd never have to worry about with Mel. . .well, unless it's because I come in second place behind Billy, which was a distinct possibility. But one thing I am sure of--Mel likes me the way I am.  He doesn't take the parts he likes, and tries to change the parts he doesn't, something I've dealt with in every past relationship.  He takes the good with the bad, and accepts them both.  He loves me for me alone.  He cherishes me, and yes, not to sound full of myself, sometimes I feel like he worships me.  Not so much placing me on a pedastal, but just the way he treats me, takes care of me--okay, admit it, adores me.  And, to be honest, it's a nice feeling. 

Of course, there's a downside to that, too.  To be that special to someone, to know you make someone happy just by BEING--that's a powerful weapon to have over another person.  One open to abuse, intentionally or unintentionally.  It's something I'm very careful to be cognizant of.  The last thing I'd ever want to do is to hurt Mel.  He has come to mean too much to me.

Naturally, I'm well aware that Mel has his own quest--to be a government watchdog, to enlighten the public to the dangers and conspiracies they unknowingly live with as they go about their daily lives, to uncover the secrets that those in power are afraid will be discovered.  A quest, when you come down to it, that is not all that dissimilar to Mulder's.  And regardless of what my older brother thinks, Mel does his job quite well.  However, while he's passionate about his crusade, it doesn't define him.  It's not the all-consuming obsession it is with my ex-partner. . .

Or at least, that's the way things used to be.  Since Mulder and Walter hooked up, he's a different man than the one I've known so well for so many years.  A calmer Mulder, a happy Mulder--a content and settled Mulder.  I know, I know--"happy Mulder" is an oxymoron, but it's true.  Seeing him now, basking in Walter's love, is a joy to witness.  Yes, he's been good for my ex-boss, too, filling an empty, lonely man with love and laughter, but what Walter has done for Mulder has been magical.

These last few months, agonizing over my changing feelings for Mel, I can understand why Mulder's decision to final confront Walter and admit his own feelings was so difficult.  Do you risk a great friendship for the chance of a great love, or do you just keep quiet, and be grateful that you have such a special friendship in the first place?

In a way, without realizing it, without voicing it, that was a choice Mulder and I made ourselves some time ago.  There were times during our partnership where we could have gone a different way, a different path, one that would have led us--if not to the altar, at least to the other's bed.  It never did, though.  We knew there was too much to lose if things didn't work out.

Which, of course, makes his decision to finally seek out our former boss and lay his heart on the line all the more courageous.  With me, he knew where I stood, how deep my feelings were for him.  But Walter--he was acting on his gut instinct, that his declaration of love would be accepted and returned.  That their relationship could become one that was more than friends, maybe even more than lovers.  That their lives would be complete once they were together--mind, body, heart and soul.

Dammit, there I go, avoiding the real issue again. 

Right, so, back to the main topic: my feelings for Mel.  We have the friendship thing.  The heart-of-gold thing.  The best-father-in-the-world thing.  The he-puts-me-and-my-needs-first thing.  Well, okay.  Not ALL needs.  And that's what we're debating here. 

Yes, I want Mel, and there's never been any question of Mel wanting me, and that right there should be the end of the discussion.  But there's a quandary, just as in all great love stories.  In our case, it takes the form of a contract.  One only spoken, but honored nonetheless.  A contract that outlined the "do's and don't's", a verbal agreement of what we both expected from this arrangement.  A contract that assured sex would not be part of our bargain.

Uh-oh--I see Mel has upped the stakes.  He's now explaining the finer points of bunting, demonstrating his technique on the Fisher Price Batting Tee we have set up in the yard.  He's standing behind our son, hands over Billy's on the baby whiffle bat, helping him to hit.  It really is the cutest thing. And it looks like our 'future little meal ticket'--as Mel jokingly (?) calls Billy--is up to the challenge, swinging away with his plastic bat, soaking in our applause each time he manages to make contact with the ball.  Maybe Mel is right and Billy has the makings of a big league star after all--he seems to love the spotlight, and is already good at mugging for the audience. 

Now, where was I?  Oh, yes--sex.  If we're going to go forward, move this relationship to the next level, I have to be sure.  Sure that this is what I want, sure that this is what Mel wants.  Because if I'm wrong, we can't go back to just being friends.  If I'm wrong, Mel is going to get hurt, and that would hurt me in return--not to mention what it would do to our son.  It's a scary thought, a dangerous choice, and yet, one that I have already made in my heart.

I want this.  I want Mel.  Of that, I'm sure.

Which only leaves me the problem of that damned agreement, the proposal Mel used to propose to me.  He promised me that sex was not going to be an issue between us, and as I've long known, he's a man of his word.  A man of honor.  If he makes you a promise, you can rely on it.  That was the whole reason I had ripped up the contract in the first place when he presented it to me.  I even told him that his word was good enough for me, that I trusted him not to go back on his promise.  Mel would never knowingly, or willingly, break that trust.  And in my desire for him, that's exactly what I'd be asking him to do.

How do you make a man of his word break his word, without destroying all he is and all he stands for?

I really, REALLY wish I had someone to talk to about this, but whom could I ask?  Mulder would be the logical choice, of course.  He's my best friend in the world, and, as I've detailed throughout my writings tonight, he would more than understand my predicament.  However, I've never told him the truth about my marriage to Mel.  In fact, there are only two people who know about our unconventional agreement: my mom and Byers.  While mom and I are close, somehow I just can't see myself discussing sex with her--especially how to talk a guy into my bed.  And Byers. . . well, no.  That would never work out.  It'd be a contest between the two of us to see who could blush and stammer the most. 

No, this decision is a private one, affecting only Mel and myself.  No one else should be involved.  This is something I have to do on my own.  Somehow, I have to convince him the contract isn't important to me anymore, if, in fact, it ever was.  Or maybe I can convince him to redraft the document with different terms.  People amend contracts all the time, right?  Why can't we do the same with this one?  Or perhaps there's a statute of limitations on verbal agreements? 

Or am I being selfish, wanting more than what I've already got?  I mean, I have a beautiful child, a beautiful house, a great job, wonderful friends, and a special man to share them with.  That's a LOT more than most people have.  Was I really willing to sacrifice this dream life for a few moments of pleasure?  So I'm not having sex.  Big deal.  I've gone long stretches in my life without sexual gratification.  It's not the end all and be all of a relationship.  In fact, relationships that are built around just sex rarely, if ever, work. 

Oh, but I really, REALLY, want Mel.

I wonder. . .maybe I'm approaching this the wrong way.  Maybe I should just step back and let nature take its course.  I mean, even with our 'pact' in place, we have come close a couple of times to letting our desires take control, regardless of our agreement.  And maybe that's the answer right there.  Maybe I'm just overthinking and overanalyzing something that should come naturally, when the time was right.

But when will that be?  How will I know?  Has that time already passed, and I missed the opportunity? 

No, if the moment had been right, I would have known.  It just hadn't arrived yet.  But I hope that it does soon.  Because when you love someone--really, deeply love someone--you want to share everything with them.  You want to give them everything you have, everything you are, and you want all of that from them in return.  It goes beyond just having sex.  It's making love, a merging of bodies and hearts, a blending of the souls.  I've done both in my life--had sex and made love--and there's no comparison.  Good sex can be great, but making love to someone is truly fulfilling and inspirational.  That is what I want with Mel.

And did I mention his kisses make me tingle?

So, there it is.  My dilemma.  Do I take the chance, roll the dice, take the plunge--or do I stay the course, don't rock the boat, maintain the status quo?  I think I know the answer, and probably knew it before I starting writing this entry. I know what I want to do, what I have to do.  I only hope my decision won't ruin the happy life Mel and I have created together.

Well, it's starting to get late, and I should try to get some work done on those lessons.   Should, but I won't.  Mel has informed me that he and Billy really need a pitcher, and how can I refuse a request like that?  

You know, they say behind every great man is a great woman.  But in my case, I have two great men behind me, enriching me and filling my home with their love.  And I thank God each day for bringing them both into my life. 

THE END

SONG-OGRAPHY:
1 "Can't Fight This Feeling"--by REO Speedwagon