Homicidal Tendencies Pt.3B (4/10) NC-17
swikstr
Author: swikstr
Email address: swi...@bigfoot.com
Rating: NC-17 for sexual situations, language
Category: C, S, A
Spoilers: Season five from Bad Blood to All Souls
Keywords: Scully/Other Romance, Mulder/Scully Romance,
XF/Homicide: Life on the Street crossover
Summary: See Part (0/10)
Disclaimer: See Part (0/10)
*********
They stood motionlessly, shoulder to shoulder, beneath the bright,
spreading crimson-orange petals of an immense red poppy.
Its image flared in bold relief against the featureless surface of an
eggshell white wall as calm, climate-controlled currents of air
shifted over the couple faintly. Muted voices permeated the quiet
atmosphere, almost distracting in their hushed intensity.
"So, you're a big O'Keeffe fan, huh?" Scully heard Bayliss remark
quietly as they continued to stare together at the evocative canvas.
It was now Saturday afternoon, and the two of them were taking a
much-needed break from homicides and X files, wandering the
serene halls of Baltimore's popular Walters Art Gallery.
Scully sighed for a moment in perfect contentment. She found
herself happy just to let the glorious visual spectacle of modern
art wrap around her alluringly while basking in the simple,
intimate company of a close confidant and lover.
"Yes, I do like her work," Scully replied finally, making a small,
sweeping gesture with her hand in the direction of the painting.
"There's something very liberating there. Very free. Like she
took images and...recreated them as *she* saw them. Not the way
that other people thought they were supposed to be."
"Interesting."
Tim seemed to take in her analysis thoughtfully as he continued to
stare up at the canvas. Drawing a deep breath, he ventured:
"It seems to me there's almost a hidden type of eroticism in her
paintings. Especially the flowers, mmm?"
Scully choked back a short laugh at his words and he stared down
at her quickly, frowning in consternation.
"I'm sorry," she sputtered, shaking her head slightly and biting
down on her lower lip until she was able to compose herself once
again.
"What? What did I say?"
"Bayliss, *every* man says that about O'Keeffe's flowers. She
spent the better part of her life trying to deny that aspect of her
work. It must be a kind of Freudian connection, or something.
You know? Sex and verdant blossoms? A male attempt to
reconcile psychosexual conflict."
He smiled in spite of himself, laughing with her at his own folly
and reaching down to grasp her hand.
"Mulder would probably know," she continued, staring off into
space suddenly as his fingers twitched unconsciously in her own.
"I take it he's an art buff or something."
"Oh sure," Scully agreed with quick sarcasm, bobbing her head
slightly. "The art of 'Women of the Big Ten.' Or whatever it is
they're showing in this month's issue of 'Playboy.'"
"Actually, that's in this month's 'Penthouse,'" Tim joked, raising a
hand laughingly to ward off her scathing glance. "Not that I would
know, of course."
"Oh, of course." Shrugging her shoulders dismissively, Scully
turned to move on to the next painting.
Tim followed silently, brushing lightly around a few other
distracted wanderers before reaching her side once again.
"So tell me, Tim. Whom do you fancy in this wonderful world of
modern art?"
It was a blatant attempt to change the subject, but Scully didn't
care. The last thing she needed was to get carried away talking
about Mulder. His ever-present image bothered her enough when
she was together with Tim that talking about him made it seem that
much worse. This was supposed to be her time to get *away*
from the headache-causing complexities of her partner and she
was determined to do everything in her power to take full
advantage of it.
"Oh, I like just about anything as long as I can recognize it."
She glanced over at Tim fleetingly and saw that he was studying
the small gallery guide they'd gotten at the door. With a sigh, he
tipped his head back, letting his attention wander away from the
map to the other people drifting about the room.
"Edward Hopper's stuff is rather appealing, in a lonely, disjointed
sort of way," he continued, sounding distracted. "Something I can
relate to, I guess..."
Tim's voice trailed off suddenly, and Scully noticed his eyes
widen behind the reflective shine of his glasses as he appeared to
recognize somebody or something on the other side of the room.
"Oh shit," she heard him murmur softly, almost as though he didn't
even realize what he was saying.
Scully turned quickly, following his gaze and seeing nothing to
warrant to such a reaction. There were several people in the
gallery, to be sure. But nobody seemed to be paying them any
particular attention. Except maybe for the lean, good-looking man
with a swatch of raven hair who caught her eye briefly.
Stepping away from Bayliss, she stared up at him again, trying to
get a handle on exactly what was happening. The look on his face
was utterly alien, composed of equal parts confusion, dread,
uncertainty and something else less-defined but still instantly
recognizable.
God help her, it was the same expression of wanton hunger he
always had when she walked in his door on Friday night.
Who could be the object of such a response she wondered
immediately, sweeping the room again with a calculating look. An
old girlfriend?
Once again, her gaze lit on the same person who'd caught her
attention before. Except now he was moving their way with a
firm, balanced stride, his eyes locked unerringly on the man
beside her.
What the hell?
Scully gave Tim her full attention, noting that his facial cast very
much resembled that of imminent road kill caught in the
headlights of a speeding vehicle. And there was something else.
Reaching out to grasp his forearm, she felt the radiant crackle of
sensual energy coming off him in waves, making the very hair
along her skin stand on edge.
"Tim?" Scully asked, pushing aside her body's own immediate
reaction to the nuclear heat of his sexuality and focusing instead
on her concern for him. "Tim, what's the matter?"
Her words finally seemed to penetrate the hard shell surrounding
him and he shook himself slightly. Looking down, Bayliss met
her eyes for the briefest instant before suddenly snapping his head
back in the direction of the approaching stranger.
"It's nothing," he told her, pulling his arm away from her grasp as
he inhaled sharply.
"Hello, Chris."
"Tim," the black-haired man replied, stopping a few feet away
while Scully stared at him soberly, taking in every detail of his
appearance.
Tall and slim, he was blessed with the dark, mysterious good looks
of a matinee idol. His attire, tasteful and somewhat nondescript,
consisted of a black button-down shirt and jeans, with a casual
dun-colored blazer and a pair of thick-soled Kenneth Cole shoes.
He shifted slightly beneath Scully's interested appraisal and she
saw that he moved with an almost cat-like elegance and intensity.
Quite honestly, the guy was incredibly attractive.
An almost irrepressible curiosity welled up within her as she
wondered just who the hell he was and what he meant to the man
standing next to her.
"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, angling his head and orienting the
rather potent power of his magnetic gaze upon her.
Scully found herself flushing unaccountably.
"Uh....Dana," she heard Tim say, catching the almost imperceptible
tremor in his normally steady voice. "I'd like you to meet Chris
Rawls. He helped Frank and I out with a case a couple of months
ago."
The explanation was innocuous. And frankly unbelievable in light
of Tim's reaction to the man's presence. She knew him pretty well
by now and had never seen this depth of feeling directed at
anything other than the job and maybe herself.
Still, remembering her manners, Scully reached out a hand and let
the other man take it into his dry, warm clasp. He pumped it once
firmly before letting go.
Her steely, protective gaze locked with the smoky, enigmatic
depths of Chris's eyes and she heard Bayliss continue:
"Chris, this is Dana Scully. She's staying with me here in
Baltimore this weekend."
Scully detected a flash of something on Chris's face at the choice
of words.
He stood carefully apart from Tim, not shaking hands or engaging
in anything that might be construed as a friendly gesture. In fact,
the two men looked distinctly uncomfortable and Scully had the
definite impression that neither was truly aware of anything other
than each other.
Son of a bitch, she told herself, as realization finally dawned upon
her. They've been to bed together.
Everything rapidly clicked in to place as she recollected Tim's
curious unwillingness to discuss any details of his prior romantic
past. Besides which, there was Kay Howard's vague commentary
at the Waterfront once concerning his last 'relationship.'
Scully cleared her throat softly, looking away and reaching a hand
up to hide a smile. In all her life, she had never, ever been
confronted with a situation such as this and it was hard to know
just how to behave.
Then, Rawls came to the rescue, addressing her quietly:
"So, Ms. Scully, are you enjoying your visit to our fair city?"
"Yes," she replied, meeting his eyes again and giving him a wide,
unassuming smile. "I always do."
He hesitated a fraction before returning her friendly gesture,
crossing his arms and dividing his attention now between her and
Tim.
"You certainly picked the right person to show you around."
She felt Bayliss stiffen at the comment and couldn't help feeling a
bit of sympathy for his predicament. On some level, Scully knew
he just had to be in an absolute panic over this unexpected
meeting. Part of her wanted to reassure him somehow that she
grasped the unspoken currents passing between the three of them,
but she didn't know quite how to do it.
Tim looked down at her then, and she knew he instantly
recognized her awareness.
"Actually," Bayliss began, turning and speaking again to Rawls,
"Dana and I were just on our way out of here."
The obvious ploy clearly did not fooled the other man, and yet she
sensed he wasn't entirely insensitive to Tim's acute discomfort.
With a lopsided grin, he nodded, letting all three of them off the
hook as he took a step back, saying:
"Well, it was nice to have met you, Dana."
He reached out to shake her hand again before looking back at
Bayliss.
"Good seeing you again, Tim."
The comment was softly-spoken. Almost a verbal caress. And
this time, Rawls took Bayliss's hand in his own, squeezing it
lightly.
Scully watched the tension in Tim's jaw soften as he looked to his
feet for a moment.
"Right," was his mumbled reply.
Then, she felt the unsteady grasp of his fingers at her elbow and
suffered herself to be led towards the wide entryway at the other
end of the room.
Scully sensed the heat of the other man's gaze boring into her back
as they left, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she
focused on the tightly-wound bundle of nerves that was Tim
Bayliss walking next to her, realizing that their placid,
uncomplicated afternoon had just come to an immediate and
rather decisive end.
*********
Sunlight glinted off the gently undulating surface of Baltimore's
inner harbor as Scully and Bayliss watched the tugs drift to and fro
across the water with a steady, implacable resolve. They were
seated on a bench along the wide, open promenade, isolated
somehow from the steady flux of tourists and residents who were
drifting about, trying to enjoy one of the first really good spring
days of the year. Hoots and chirps of distant marine activity
echoed in the air as the two maintained a steady silence, each
waiting for the other to say something.
Scully observed the passing people for a while, thinking about
what had just transpired back in the gallery. She doubted she
could have come up with a more bizarre scenario if someone had
paid her.
The revelation that Tim had had an affair with another man didn't
trouble Scully. Not exactly. Certainly, he wasn't experiencing any
confusion over his sexuality when it came to *their* relationship.
Unless he was the greatest goddamn actor who ever lived, and she
was pretty sure that wasn't the case.
No, she told herself. It wasn't discomfort that she was feeling
right now. Rather, it was curiosity and an insatiable need to
understand the obscure, puzzling anomalies of the remarkable man
sitting next to her.
With a sigh, Scully pulled her feet up on top of the bench, tucking
her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs. The
breeze ruffled her hair slightly as she spoke:
"Tell me about it, Tim."
He gave her a quick, piercing look, shifting his elbow along the
backrest so he could rest his chin on one hand.
"There's not much to say, really," he began, frowning reflectively.
"Like I mentioned at the gallery, I met him on a case with Frank.
We were investigating the murder of a homosexual man. It
appeared to be a hate crime. Chris knew the victim and tried to
give us a helping hand. When we caught the killer, he came over
to the squad to thank me. One thing led to another and he ended
up inviting me to the club he owns for a drink. I accepted. End of
story."
Making a quick, cutting gesture with his hand, Bayliss turned his
head back towards the water, letting the heavy silence resume.
Scully was perceptive enough to know he'd just left quite a bit
unsaid with that brief explanation. And for once in her life, she
wasn't satisfied to just let the matter drop.
"Come on, Tim. The story looked alive and kicking to me back
there to me when you made the introductions. What the hell
happened?"
Bayliss didn't answer for a long moment and she let the seconds
tick by, watching the tense play of emotions over his soulful
features. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked back at her
with an expression of near-total vulnerability and weariness.
"I've had a lot of relationships in my life, Dana. And I'm afraid
quite a few of them might be classified by normal people as
'unconventional.'"
He blinked for a moment as his eyes glittered with a dreamy,
unfocused cast, remembering.
"There was Tanya Adams, who managed the S&M novelty shop that
Frank and I visited as part of an investigation into a sexual
asphyxiation. And then Emma Zoole, who liked to do the wild
thing in a custom-built coffin for two. She was the one who
precipitated my brief trespass into the world of armed robbery. I
know Kay already told you about that."
Scully bit back a smile in response.
"After a couple more failed attempts at finding 'Ms. Right,' I got to
thinking about some of the things Frank had told me over the years
about sexuality. And confusion. I began to wonder if I
was...looking in the wrong places."
He leaned his head back and she traced the taut column of his neck
with her eyes, catching the bob in his throat as he swallowed.
"So, to add yet another wrinkle to this dilemma, I spent the better
part of my free time last summer mixing it up on the gay scene
down in your backyard -- DC. I wasn't much of a participant, of
course. Believe me, any latent feelings I had in that regard were
more than offset by a rather potent sense of conscious
homophobia. But it was an opening. And then along came Chris
just as I was breaking off a rather meaningless relationship with
Julianna Cox. The rest as they say, is history."
He kept his eyes on her the entire time until he finished, as though
desperately wanting her to understand.
Nodding gently in response to his unspoken query, she reached
forward to touch his hand. Tim's fingertips felt icy in hers,
probably due more to his fear in telling her about these things than
just the chilly spring air.
"Were you in love with him?"
Bayliss thought for a while before answering.
"I don't know, Dana. That's a pretty tough question." He shook his
head slightly, searching for words.
"In some ways, from the moment we first met, I felt like I'd found
a soulmate. Someone who was able to accept me and my
confusion unconditionally. He knew who I was. Tim Bayliss.
And there was always something undefinable about Chris
that...spoke to me in a profoundly deep, visceral way -- unlike any
of the other love affairs I've ever had before."
"So what was the problem?"
"The problem was that there were hopes, dreams, things I wanted
out of life. And as hard as I tried, I couldn't reconcile those needs
with the concept of a relationship with another man."
He made a small self-deprecatory gesture and grimaced wryly,
finishing:
"Married with two-point-four kids doesn't quite cut it when your
SO shares the same jock size as you do."
Scully couldn't help herself. She laughed aloud at the words,
amazed as always at Tim's incredible resilience and refusal to take
certain things about himself too seriously.
But then he sobered unexpectedly, a dark look settling on his
features.
"There were other reasons, too," he said grimly. "I wouldn't be
honest if I said I wasn't afraid of my family's reaction. Frank
knew, but he wasn't very happy about it. Then there was the squad.
It didn't take long for my association with Rawls to leak out into
the workplace. I suspect I don't have to tell you that cops can be
brutal when it comes to this sort of thing. Most of them were too
chickenshit to say anything to my face. They know I'm good
murder police, which counts for something. But Frank ended up
taking a lot of crap on my behalf. And in the end, I guess I didn't
think that was very fair to him."
Not fair to Frank? Scully repeated to herself silently,
incredulous. God, but Tim was sometimes *too* good at
disregarding his own feelings. Couldn't he see that the issue
wasn't his partner, but rather himself?
The drift of her own reasoning suddenly cut through her heart with
the finely-honed severity of cold steel and Scully inhaled sharply
as she grasped the implications.
At that instant, she knew there was nothing she could say to him;
no way to counsel him on the error of his thinking.
Because Scully realized she already suffered from the exact same
weakness.
Bayliss seemed to read her thoughts, shaking his head silently as
he held up a hand, preventing her from speaking.
"Dana, the bottom line is that I ended it. The individual reasons
didn't really matter in the end, there were so many. Chris was
hurt, but I think he understood. He's not a fool and I'm sure he was
aware of the insurmountable odds we faced. Maybe if I were
anything other than a cop..."
He shrugged, voice trailing off wistfully as Scully was once again
reminded of herself in a similar situation.
"Tim," she began softly, grasping his arm and pulling herself up
against him on the bench as she locked her gaze with his. "You
may not believe this. Or maybe you will, I'm not sure. But either
way, I want you to see that I understand what you're going through.
I *know* what it feels like to...have very deep feelings
for...somebody. And somehow, it just seems...bound by destiny to
be impossible."
Scully leaned back suddenly, sighing heavily and sweeping the
water with a frustrated glance as she finished:
"Maybe that's why we're here now. Together."
Reaching a hand up, Tim trailed it through the windswept strands
of her hair, tucking them behind her ear as he drew her head
beneath his chin into the warm, welcoming cradle of his neck.
Scully sniffled, breathing in the spicy scent of his skin and
reaching her arms around his upper body, hugging him tightly.
"You could be right about that, Dana. But there's something else I
want *you* to know. This isn't about confusion any more. I guess
after all that's happened, I've stopped thinking about myself as
strictly straight, or strictly otherwise. The truth is, I just want
to
be happy. And I'm willing to explore any and all avenues that may
lead to a real, genuine sense of satisfaction in my life. God
knows, I *need* that with this nightmare of a vocation."
He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he added:
"Right here, right now, I'd like to explore that possibility with
you."
Sliding a hand beneath her chin, he kissed her, lips dancing over
her mouth with the faintest, most gentle of caresses.
Scully responded, her fingertips drifting lightly over the firmness
of his jaw as she let a slight murmur of agreement vibrate in her
throat. She believed every word he'd said and was tremendously
grateful for both his honesty and integrity. Only one other person
she knew was committed to truth that way.
But even so, Scully couldn't help feeling that the solution wouldn't
be this simple. No matter what Tim said, the meeting with Chris
Rawls today was clear evidence of the unresolved issues still
simmering between the two men.
And she would be a liar if she said there wasn't a similar history
between her and Mulder as well.
Besides which, there were other, more vague currents of
uneasiness that had begun to swirl throughout her consciousness
of late. Nebulous impressions of restlessness and turmoil
sometimes echoing in her mind like a voice nobody but she could
hear.
Scully had no idea what it all meant. There was a sense of
circumstances, of fate, rushing towards her with irrevocable,
unstoppable speed and she had a feeling, deep within her soul, that
immense changes were on the horizon.
Leaning in to Tim that afternoon on the edges of the harbor, she
suddenly envisioned the two of them, curled up against each other
for shelter at the edges of a vast, empty space.
And it was spreading.
Grasping the warmth of his arm with one hand and the cross
around her neck with the other, Scully sent forth a fervent prayer
that that they, all of them, would be able to emerge on the other
side of the darkness unscathed.
-continued