There is a bee on the window.

I can't really tell if it's outside the glass or inside. And frankly I don't think I care either way; it still scares the life out of me.

She's laid out on the cot behind me, and I don't think she sees the bee. I know from experience that she'd ignore it anyway, but I'm pretty sure she's still asleep.

Damn, its on the inside.

When we first found the bees, the worst that happened was a coma, then death when the alien fetus came full term. But since the official release, bee victims are dying quickly, as if
infected with the worst kind of poison. They die so quickly, in fact, that the bee is still lighting on the bodies as the eyes close and the heart spasms to a stop. The vicious equivalent of hemlock.

So naturally, I'm a little afraid of my company.

We've been here for a long time, trapped in a little hideaway where we were so certain evil couldn't touch us. So far, so good. But time passes slowly even with the best intentions. I gave up small talk the first week, jokes after a month, and intimate conversation is finally the only outlet. I learned so much about her in just this last week. I know what color panties
she wore to her senior prom, she knows where I got the first condom I ever bought. I know her darkest fears and she knows what I really was thinking the night she told me about
Daniel. Surprise, Scully! Maybe I am an Eddie van Blundht.

If that bee starts flying I may lose all self-control.

Its not like we knew nothing about each other before this, but the old saying about tragedy bringing you closer? Whoever noticed that first was a sharp guy.

I have so much left to say to her. How bright my world became when she entered it, why I never had the guts to really tell her. I have so many questions too. Does she ever wake up and wonder if she can call me at that hour?

So the world is ending, Scully, and I'm pretty much the last guy. Whadda ya say we get around to that honeymoon video?

Aw fuck. The bee sees me. I know it does. Its like I can read its mind. "Why hello, unsuspecting human. Today is your lucky day! You and your partner there have the chance
to die a horrible and quick death, courtesy of the alien race. Have a nice day!"

I am praying he also sees the hole in the wood (shit that's how he got in) and hightails it out of here.

"Mulder?"

She's awake.

"Mulder, what are you staring at?"

Oh, nothing, just a bee. "Oh, um...nothing. Thinking."

"About?"

"You." And its the truth. I can't help it anymore.

She smiles, ever so slightly. "Mulder."

"What."

"I love you, you know."

Well, no I didn't actually know that. She's never told me. I don't say it out loud, but she sees it on my face, and laughs. She's telling me now, her eyes say.

"I...Scully, I...."

She nods. She knows.

"I know."

Does she see the fear too?

Oh no. Selective vision.

I go to her. "Scully?"

"Mmm?"

"Can I hold you?" It came out even softer than I'd intended.

She looks surprised that I had to ask like that. I'm a little surprised too, truthfully. But I know why I asked. It's the bee. He's not on the window anymore. But he's stalking us both, isn't he? Oh yes.

I want to hold her and be held, just in case. Just in case.

And we lay there entwined in each other, souls melting into each other. My mind wanders into my memories, thinking of all the chances I had to hold her like this and didn't, because of
some stupid boundries set by the Bureau and strictly adhered to by the dutiful and enigmatic Agent Scully and the rebellious and obsessed Agent Mulder. I think of her with cancer, eyes pleading me silently to save her if I can. I think of her inside a glass prison, vulnerable and half-dead. I remember the first time she ran into my arms, desperate and frightened.

I think of her holding me, staving off my demons, my mother, mothmen. I want to give some of it back to her, that comfort. So I concentrate, hard. Maybe I can.

"Mulder?"

I was dozing. "Mmm"

"If I die today, I'm glad its beside you."

I start a little, and pull back to look into her face. Her eyes are glassing over, and her breath leaves her in one fell swoop. And blood trickles in a tiny rivulet on her forehead, just below a bee.

A bee. The bee. Him.

She's still warm, and I hold her tighter, to try and tell her what I never said. She knew, she said, but she never heard me say it. I want to say it now.

"Scully, I love you."

Minutes pass, and the bee is still there on her face, maybe resting from the exertion of taking away the one person who ever saw me for who I was, instead of Spooky Mulder. But its alright, I'm not bitter. The bee crawls onto my face to make his second kill for the day.
Way to go, ace.

I can't help but realize the irony of it all. To be brought down by Satan's smallest minion, as it were. I kiss her lips, and the thespian in me gives to the urge "Thus, with a kiss...I...."