Never Say Never Again:
A Valentine's Day Story
by Sally Rush

---

"Sure, fine, whatever," Scully said as she slammed up the phone on Mulder. Fuckwad. Who the fuck was he to tell her what she could and couldn't do? For five years she risked her ass to cover his, with not a word of thanks. Just more of the same. Memememememe.

Suddenly the phone rang again. Quickly she answered it, secretly hoping it was Mulder with an apology. That maybe her coolness had plunged some sort of spring of humanity buried within his confused soul. What she got was much better.

"Hello? Dana Scully?"

"Yes, this is Scully.... who IS this?" she snapped.

"You probably don't remember me ... but this is Eugene Toombs," the other voice said cautiously.

"Eugene?! Hi! How ARE you?"

"Oh, I'm MUCH better now. I was a little screwed up there for a while, with the liver-eating business, but I found a great therapist and I think I'm doing much better....".

"That's GREAT, Eugene, glad to hear it ..."

They talked for a while, catching up on old times and making not a few Silence of the Lambs jokes about themselves. Finally Scully prompted Toombs, "So, Eugene ... any special reason for calling?"

"Well..." He stopped, hesitant. Gathering the courage of a once-sociopath he ventured forth: "I was wondering if we could get together some time ... maybe have dinner? Uh ... tomorrow *is* Valentine's Day..." On the other end of the phone he flushed blood-red. "What an asshole!" he thought, and waited for the inevitable let-down.

Shocking him, Scully responded quickly, "Why Eugene ... I'd love to!"

There was a moment of silence on the line while Eugene picked himself back off the floor and both of them wondered if they were dreaming. "You ... really? Wow! That's great! And it doesn't bother you that I'm a homicidal maniac twisted up version of humanity?"

"NO!", Scully laughed cheerfully. "You forget! I work with Fox Mulder!" And they both laughed and eventually said their goodbyes waiting for tomorrow to come.

The next night Eugene showed up eerily on schedule. Scully was just toweling off when he oozed through the grate above the towel rack. Reflexively she drew the towel around herself, as she watched his elongated fingers slip through the metal slats. An alien shiver warmed her spine as she admired his ... agility.

Luminescent green eyes approved her body, her short but lean legs, her tiny hips and round breasts. Or at least, what he could see of all of the above through the towel. She flushed and grinned, throwing a washcloth at him playfully. "Stop scaring me like that!" she admonished, still playful, and shooed him out of the bathroom while she finished getting dressed. Eugene drifted into the kitchen and checked out the fridge.

Awe filled him when he saw her finally emerge from the bedroom: A rose in full bloom, a butterfly breaking from a cocoon. "Dana ... you look mahvellous," he quipped and they both laughed. Dana noticed that he was busily gorging himself on a plate of raw giblets she had been saving for soup, the blood still fresh on his chin. She felt a sudden pang of understanding for this man -- this lonely creature. She felt that she could relate to him so completely, as if they were soul mates. Well, part of her did. Part of her thought about Mulder would have an apoplectic seizure if he could see her now and that really set her on her course.

You must understand
though the touch of your hand
makes my pulse react
that it's only the thrill
a boy meeting girl
opposites attract

It's physical
only logical
You must try to ignore
that it means more than that

The swayed together in the bar, Scully's face pressed close to the clamminess of Eugene's skin. Her sweater felt warm and damp, tight between their chests. As the song ended they swept each other into the waiting booth, drunk with the thrill of their illicit togetherness. Eugene took Scully's hand, admiring each tiny knuckle as she inhaled sharply. Without warning he raised her hand up and drew her middle finger into his mouth.

"That reminds me of a story!" Scully gushed, and ordered another tequila shooter while Sister Act II played on the big screen in the background.

Ohohoh what's love got to do
got to do with it?
What's love but a second-hand emotion?
What's love got to do
got to do with it?
Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?

"Where did you get it?" Scully asked, curiosity tinged with admiration, as she fondled the ink imbedded in his arm.

"Oh, it was back in the Navy... WWII. My submates and I were drunk on shore leave one night. It's a monument to my foolish youth, which is of course, eternal", he shrugged, bashfully.

"Did it hurt?" she asked softly.

"Nah, not really. Booze is the great pain-killer, you know." She laughed at him. His smile turned boyish, a lock of hair fell into his yellow-green eyes and she felt a pang. Youth, she thought. Live it while you can. And then she and Eugene were outside in the night, where the neon lights make everyone look a little less human.

EZ Eddie's Tattoo Parlour was just two blocks away. "Pick one." Eugene was whispering in her ear now, his breath hot against her cheek. She felt herself swooning into a place where nobody cares if tomorrow ever comes. Felt herself being drawn into a realm of darkness where there was not, had never been a Fox Mulder. A place where you can go back in time and rewrite the future. She chose an image of a small red fox, and she asked the tattoo artist to put a big old "X" right through its little face. Later she would realise that she forgot to ask whether or not the tattooist used only sterilized needles. She would consider that her most daring omission of all, except for when she was waiting for the HIV and Hepatitis tests to come back. But for now, she was draped over a cool metal chair while Eugene's desire filled the room and each tiny hot prick of the needle erased a cold regret.

It may seem to you
that I'm acting confused
when you're close to me
If I tend to look dazed
I read it someplace
I've got cause to be

Well there's a name for it
There's a phrase that fits
But whatever the reason
you do it for me

Now she has gone farther than she has ever gone before. They are back at Eugene's abandoned warehouse and he is behind her, urging her up the small runged ladder before them. It is dark, and the air is stale flavoured with a hint of something more sinister. They arrive in the loft landing with only a trickle of light playing against the dirty floor. He reaches for her, he stretches himself toward her from about ten feet away and wraps himself around her. He is hungry, but so is she. He pulls her sweater off over her head, tousling her hair and then they both fall into his newspaper-lined rat's nest. "Happy Valentine's Day," he murmurs. He begins to lick her.

Scully awakes to brilliant daylight. For a moment she is invaded by the memory of a dream that ... but she is home, in her own bed. Slipping her feet to the floor, she realizes she is wearing a man's khaki coloured work shirt. She advances to the mirror and turns so she can see the sleeve. "Eugene," the embroidered name tag says. And it is filled with the smell of furnace oil. The doorbell rings and she pulls on her pantyhose and rushes to the door, hoping for answers.

Mulder. She moves to slam the door in his face but he slams back harder and it smashes against the wall behind, denting the plaster. "What the fuck are you doing?!" She retreats into the living room, never taking her eyes off him.

"I CALLED YOU, eighteen times last night!!" His eyes scan the room and land on her cell phone, forgotten on the coffee table. He picks it up and throws it at her after reading the digital window. "MESSAGE! MESSAGE!" he shrieks, really beside himself now.

"Dana?" the voice comes from the doorway, tentative. "Is everything OK?" Eugene is there and he has bagels, cream cheese and lox. He holds a dead salmon in one hand and a Starbucks bag in the other. "Dana ... I ..." and he sees Mulder and freezes. Mulder's face explodes at the sight of him and he has dropped and picked his gun up twice by the time Toombs disappears from sight.

I've been taking on a new direction
and I have to say
I've been thinking about my own protection
It scares me to feel this way

What's love got to do
got to do with it?
Who needs a heart when a heart can be broken?

Scully is dressed sharply in one of her old suits, the ones that meant business before she ever did. She stands by the urinal while Mulder waters his melon. "And ANOTHER thing ..." he continues. He's been ranting for two hours now. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again. Who knows what could happen to a beautiful woman in a world full of monsters? Did you ever think of THAT, Scully? Did you ever think at ALL?"

He zips up furiously and she levels herself at him: "I have needs, Mulder. I get hungry sometimes. And sometimes, I want to shed my skin." She walks away leaving him gaping with his tie caught in his fly.

The End.

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