Well this isn't exactly what I had in mind when I decided 
I wanted to write a post-Tempest Fugit/Max story, but I 
like it better than what I *was* doing. Next thing I post'll 
be Jubilee 5, promise! Before the end of April I'm hoping. 
Anyway, the stuff you really wanna know before you read 
this story:

Classification: VRA-H (well, my friend Val laughed)
Rating: R for language.
Summary: Pendrell/Other. Pendrell reflects on how the 
past nine days have changed his life
Spoilers: Well, duh! Tempest Fugit/Max
and now, for the *really exciting part*:
Disclaimer: I don't own Pendrell, Mulder or Scully. They 
belong to Chris Carter, 1013 & Fox Productions. 
No copyright infringement intended. Penny Bradshaw is 
my own character, though I doubt Chris Carter will ever 
want to use her in an episode. 
***OK TO ARCHIVE***


One Hour Left
by Sarah "S\S" Kiley
(kileyw@frontiernet.net)


So I'm going to die.

I am conscious, obviously, the pain in my chest
is quickly receding from a strong combination of shock 
and morphine. 

I guess they figure if you're going to be dead 
within an hour you should feel pretty damn good. I think 
they gave me morphine. I've never gotten high before, so 
even these precious little amounts of drugs are doing 
things to my system. Making me unafraid of the 
impending death.

I'm not a very macho kind of guy. I know this 
about myself. I've been aware of it for a long, long time 
and although it's made me the butt of locker-room jokes 
and the "friend" of many women I'd like to be close to, I 
am not ashamed of who I am. I never have been, and I 
never will be. Well, since I'm dying that kinda goes 
without saying, don't it?

My name is Alan Lucas Pendrell.

And I have exactly one hour to live.

The bullet scratched my lung. They can't fix it.
So I'm going to slowly bleed to death here in this 
goddamn hospital room. My lungs are going to fill with 
blood. They are filling. I keep coughing it up and spitting it 
out. 

I'm really pissed. 

Death shouldn't have come so soon. I
shouldn't have taken a bullet for Dana Katherine Scully. I 
always thought putting yourself in front of a bullet for 
someone would be noble. A chivalrous and knightly thing 
to do. Giving your life for someone else's.

Well, it's not.

In fact, it sucks.

I've never been shot before. After all, I graduated 
from Quantico and was put directly in the forensic labs. I 
do DNA tests, analyze chemicals, semen samples, saliva 
samples, urine samples. I've never been a field agent. I 
don't go out hunting the bad guys with my gun. I always 
thought it would be kind of exciting, but it would be 
equally dangerous. I didn't like things that were 
dangerous. I'm a very cautious kind of guy. Wonder what 
the hell I was thinking when I joined the FBI. 

I didn't join by myself, though.

I had a buddy with me. Her name is Penny 
Bradshaw. We'd taken all the same classes at the same 
college. Penny was my best friend. I could talk to her 
about anything, and vice versa. My relationship with 
Penny has been one of the best things about my life. I 
love her more than life. I would willingly have taken a 
bullet for Penny. I'd do anything for her, and I take 
comfort in the knowledge that she would do the same for 
me. So when Penny had told me about her decision to 
join the FBI, and how she didn't want to join alone, I told 
her I'd sign up with her. I'm glad I joined. I had a stable 
job, no worries about ever being unemployed since there 
would always be crime. The pay was good. I wasn't rich 
of course, didn't really need to be with my lifestyle. But 
best of all, I would still be with Penny. 

God. 

I love her so much it hurts. 

I've been her friend for eight years.

I've been her lover for eight days.

I am going to die within the hour.

Fuck.

I want more time with Penny. We deserve more 
time together. I want to marry her. I want to have kids 
with her. I want to grow old with her. The past nine days 
have changed my life. Yeah, I said nine, though Penny 
and I have only been lovers for eight. I should explain. 

Nine days ago, I realized that I wasn't in love 
with Dana Scully. I passed by her at work and she didn't 
say hi to me. She didn't smile at me, or even nod politely. 
She didn't know I was there. It was eight-thirty in the 
morning and it started me thinking. I thought about all the 
other times she hadn't said hi to me. I thought about how 
she thanked me, and looked at me with those baby blue 
eyes. I thought about her and Mulder. I thought about 
how she chased after him, put her job, reputation and life 
on the line for him. I thought about how she didn't do that 
for me.

Okay, so I didn't need chasing after. None of 
my ideas were really out there. I wasn't ridiculed for my 
beliefs. My life was never in danger.  So what? She 
wouldn't have done it for me anyway. The incident got 
me thinking. It made me realize why people called her the 
Ice Maiden. 

I'd always thought it was stupid. She was so 
passionate about her work, there was fire, spirit in her. 
Ice? Anything but. By one-thirty that afternoon I had 
convinced myself that she had just been busy. 

So I went down to see her. 

Okay, not just to see her specifically. I had the 
test results Mulder needed. For all the technological 
advancements in the world you still can't get the same 
piece of paper from the second floor to the basement with 
any amount of speed unless it's hand-delivered. It's 
ridiculous, it truly is.

But if there was such an invention, I would never 
have realized that I wasn't in love with Dana Scully.

See, I came down the stairs to the basement and 
headed around the corner towards their office. I know, I 
say their office although technically it's his. His name is 
on the door, not Scully's. I was standing there, getting 
ready to knock when I heard a laugh from inside and a 
small moan. 

"Stop tickling me!" a voice demanded playfully. 
"You didn't say anything about tickl-" 

Scully's words were cut off by a short spell of 
laughter. 

Something inside of me suddenly paused. The 
woman in there was Scully. I could barely recognize her 
voice. I say barely because she sounded like an entirely 
different woman. 

And . . . playful? Dana Scully, playful? Shit, I 
could have used a thousand words to describe the woman, 
but playful was definitely *not* one of them. 
Professional. Passionate. Pretty.

I knocked on the door. 

"It's open."

His voice. I didn't have any animosity for 
Mulder. I mean, sure he got to work with her every day, 
but all they did was work together. Besides, Scully didn't 
really believe in any of that crap Mulder was always 
talking about. I knew she didn't. 

I pushed open the door and I almost dropped the 
test results in my hand. Her jacket lay draped  on his desk. 
She was sitting in his chair and his hands were on her 
shoulders. Kneading them. He was giving her a backrub. I 
looked directly at her, which was a good thing. If I had 
looked five second later, I wouldn't have seen *it* 
happen.

Her mask.

Her smile disappeared. The light in her eyes 
switched to a dull burn. The animation of her face 
dropped to the demeanor of a dour FBI agent. 

At that point, it seemed perfectly clear to me why 
people called her the Ice Maiden. She looked like ice right 
about then. Pure professional. There was no trace of the 
woman who's laughed a minute ago, whose voice I had 
heard demanding that Mulder stop tickling her. 

I thought Mulder was hostile. I did. I knew that 
he trusted very few people and I could always tell that he 
never really trusted me all the way. But what was on 
Scully's face was worse than Mulder's hostility. It was the 
frightening mask of a person who left her emotions at the 
door when she entered work and maybe wasn't quite sure 
how to pick them back up again on her way home. 

I knew people who had to do that so they could 
work. With the macabre nature of some cases, many 
agents did that. But before that shield came up, I saw heat 
and warmth and *Dana* in her eyes. I saw it because 
Mulder had managed to drag her out of her shell. He 
could melt the layers she put up to do her job. 

It was something I would never be able to do.

Hell, it wasn't something I wanted to do. I hadn't 
realized that her professional mask was a mask. I hadn't 
seen the *Dana* before. Maybe I had, when she was 
around Mulder, but I hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. 
God only knows why I chose now to do so, though. 

I held the test results out at arm's length. "I have 
the lab results you needed," I said, feeling like a third 
wheel. 

Mulder must have squeezed her shoulder or 
something, because Scully glanced up at him. 

He smiled. "Backrub's over, Scully, and I didn't 
even get to the good part where I take off your clothes."

*Dana* shone in her eyes. It amazed me, it really 
did. With a touch, a look, or maybe it was just what he 
said, Mulder had pushed through the Scully and found 
Dana again, in the space of a heartbeat. 

"Well you still have those videos that aren't 
yours, Mulder."

Mulder clutched at his heart. "Burned by the 
redhead again." His eyes left hers and he looked at me and 
smiled, grabbing the results from my hand. "Thanks, 
Pendrell."

"No problem," I said coolly. Mulder must have 
noticed my attitude. His brows furrowed and I heard a 
barely muffled, "What's the matter with him?" as I 
walked down the hall towards the elevator. 

The elevator was taking too long, so I used the 
stairs. I stopped halfway up from the basement, and sat 
down on the steps. 

Dana Scully had been my infatuation for the past 
two years. I thought myself in love with her. She was 
brave, beautiful, smart, practical.

But that was Scully. I had seen Scully, not the 
carefully hidden Dana that lived inside her. The one that 
only came out for Mulder. 

I was in love with a facade. A faux woman who 
existed only because of the horror she saw every day. 

I sat on the stairwell for at least twenty minutes, 
thinking. Wondering what I had seen in Scully anyway. 
Scully was practical down to the bone. I was a dreamer. 
Not like Mulder. But I had a few dreamy, romantic 
notions. Scully was brave. She believed in giving 
everything up for her cause, for Mulder's cause. I was a 
coward. I didn't want to die, and I didn't want to give 
everything up for a cause, either. Scully was 
extraordinary. I was normal. I was happy being normal, 
what could have attracted me to Scully?

The more I thought about it, the more I realized 
how much I wasn't in love with her. I could deal with 
Scully as a friend, maybe at some level I could even get to 
Dana once in a while. But she didn't love me. And I 
didn't love her.

I went back to the lab. Penny and I work in the 
same lab. One lab for four agents. Ricardo and Paula were 
on their lunch break when I got back. Penny was looking 
something up on the computer. She turned as the door 
shut, and smiled at me. 

Penny is very beautiful, in my opinion. She has 
long, thick, naturally curly blond hair. It's always shiny 
and feels like silk. I have this hair fetish about women. It's 
the same way some guys like a girl with long, slim legs. 
I'm more attracted to women with long, thick hair. Natural 
hair, without bottles or perms. 

Penny also has very big green eyes, and a full 
mouth. She's about as tall as I am. I've always thought 
she was gorgeous, even when we were just friends. 
Penny's a very womanly kind of person. I know that 
sounds odd. But it describes her down to a T. She loves to 
cook. I've had Penny's cooking and I can tell you that not 
only does she love to cook, but she can cook. She's got 
scented candles and knick knacks all around her 
apartment. Her bookshelf is lined with romance novels. 
She likes wearing skirts. She loves kids. She's sensitive 
and loving and passionate and proud. I wonder why she's 
not married yet. I would have married her. I'm still willing 
to, even if we only get to spend a few moments as 
husband and wife. 

I'm coughing again. Shit, I hate this. I grab a 
tissue and 
spit the blood in it. I figure my lungs are about halfway 
filled by now. 

I'm getting off track, though, and I don't have 
much time left to tell you this story. I came through the 
door and she smiled at me.

"Hey, where've you been?" she asked. "You left 
almost a half an hour ago. I told Paula and Ricardo to go 
ahead and take their lunch first today since it didn't seem 
like you were going to be back for a while. What 
happened?"





I shrugged and sighed. "I honestly don't know."

That caught her attention. "Al, is something 
wrong?" Penny liked to call me Al. It doesn't fit me. Al's 
a macho kind of name. I'm not a macho guy. But I've 
said this already.

I plopped down in a chair and looked at the 
samples I still had to do that afternoon. "Yeah, Penny, 
something is."

She glanced at her computer screen and then 
back at me. "I've got time."

I shook my head. "I don't want to talk about it 
here, Penny. You wanna have dinner tonight?"

She smiled. "You mean, do I wanna *make* 
dinner tonight?"

"We could go out," I offered.

Penny was startled. I couldn't blame her. I never 
missed an opportunity to sample her cooking. She goes all 
out, and you've never lived if you haven't eaten a Penny 
Bradshaw brownie. I've lived many lifetimes, and enjoyed 
every single chocolate morsel.

"No, I'll make something. You want me to bring 
some groceries to your place, or do you want to come 
over?"

"I'll come over."

It was settled.

When I came into Penny's apartment later that 
night, she was preparing dinner. Homemade pizza, and 
brownies. My favorite. I leaned against the doorframe to 
her kitchen and watched her shredding mozzarella. Her 
movements were graceful, like those of a skilled dancer. 
She spotted me when she turned to put the pizza rack in 
the oven. 

"Hey Al. Make yourself at home, I've just got to 
clean up and I'll be right out." She tossed a box of 
matches to me. "Here, light the orange ones. They're 
peach and I haven't gotten a whiff of `em yet."

Penny always lit candles when I came over to 
talk. She always wanted a fireplace, but never was able to 
find one in an apartment, so she made due with about two 
dozen candles. I bought her a candlestick every year on 
her birthday. I could count the years as I lit the candles. 
Three years ago, I gave her a solid silver one and promised 
to give her a gold one to celebrate a decade.

I'm pissed off that I'm two years short, too.

Anyway, Penny came into her living room a few 
minutes later. She had on a long skirt with flower prints, 
and a silk blouse. Very womanly. Very Penny.

She smiled and tucked herself on the sofa beside 
me. "So, what's the matter?" she asked.

I sighed and looked around her apartment. I felt 
at home here. I was pretty sure it was more the woman 
than the decorum. I looked down at my hands. "You 
know that . . . I've been um  . . . around Scully a lot," I 
said, choosing my words carefully. 

"Yes, I do," she said softly. I looked up and I 
saw her heart in her eyes. Something in my chest cracked 
at the sight.

I grinned at her. I look like a stupid, love-sick 
puppy when I grin. Penny says I have a beautiful smile. 
"Well, it's not going to happen anymore," I said simply.

She frowned. "What?" she asked incredulously. 
That had *not* been what she had been expecting to hear.

I took a deep breath. "I feel like I've just woken 
up from a really deep sleep, like I've been colorblind and 
now I see rainbows everywhere."

"Why?" 

"I just realized today that . . . I don't love Dana 
Scully. She's everything I'm not and she's . . ." I trailed 
off, just looking at Penny. Her jaw was slack, her eyes 
wide. I think it's the only time I'll ever manage to totally 
stun her. With the look on her face, I felt this rush of love 
in my body, overwhelming, overpowering love for her. 
One door shut in my heart and shattered. Another formed 
out of the mist and swung wide open. 

I reached for her and I hugged her as tightly as I 
could. I began to laugh, my head buried on her shoulder. 
She thought I was crying at first, gently shushing me with 
her words and hands.

"No, no, Penny . . ." I began. I pulled away from 
her, and then rested my forehead against hers. I smiled at 
her, my eyes gazing into hers and becoming lost there. "I 
love you," I said. 

I'm not going to tell you what happened from 
then on. I was raised to be a gentleman, after all. Besides, 
Father Antony is going to be here soon to give me my last 
rites. It's bad enough I have to confess fornication. I don't 
think the Lord would approve of me telling everyone 
about it. And I need the bonus points. I've only got about 
twenty minutes left. 

So how did I end up in this goddamn hospital 
bed? Oh, shit, sorry Lord, I know St. Peter isn't going to 
like that on my record. You should send me straight to 
hell, but please don't, Lord. `Cause I know Penny won't 
end up there with me and I can't lose her now that I just 
really found her. 

But about my current predicament. Okay, here's 
the deal: Mulder told me he was having this little 
celebration for Scully. Wanted to know if I wanted to be 
there. I declined. Penny and I had . . . plans that night. 
Plans that included brownies in bed.

I know I'm sounding a little sexist, making 
Penny out to be this little woman who feeds me and 
strokes my ego all the time. She's not like that. It's hard to 
explain Penny. She's not weak, so don't even think that. I 
may work in a lab, but I *do* know how to fire a gun. I 
have one around here someplace. Bastards took my 
clothes off and put me in this fucking paper gown. I hate 
these damn things. I had to wear one for a week three 
years ago when I got appendicitis. That useless little 
fucker on the end of my long intestine got infected and 
made me stay in the hospital for a week. 

You seem surprised that I'm swearing so much. 
So am I, to tell you the truth. I mean, that's what we're all 
in this for, the truth, right? That's all Scully and Mulder 
want out of life. I've heard them talk about it before. The 
truth this, the truth that. Someday they're going to find 
the truth and have one hell of a menage a trois with her. I 
don't hold any animosity towards either of them. I know 
that it was the case they were investigating that's gotten 
me in this hospital bed. I know that if they didn't go 
poking their noses where they don't belong, if they 
weren't so hot for Truth, I'd be okay this minute.

Or maybe if I hadn't decided to grab a beer after 
work. See, I told Penny I was tired and just wanted to go 
home instead of doing something tonight. She'd agreed. 
I'd left. I picked Scully up a birthday card. I bought Penny 
a diamond ring. I was going to go to Penny's tonight and 
surprise her with it. I wasn't sure if it meant I wanted to 
marry Penny or what, but I knew I wanted to give it to 
her. And I knew that I would probably drop the damn 
thing with my nerves. So I decided to have a beer to calm 
myself down. Safe to say one beer turned to two, then 
three, four, five . . . 

It was pure coincidence that I ran into Scully. I 
felt kinda guilty about only getting her a card, so I figured 
I'd buy her and the guy she was with a beer. If that 
bartender had been two seconds longer giving me the 
beers, Scully'd be lying here bleeding to death and I'd be 
alive.

I want to get the fuck off these drugs. I've got 
about fifteen minutes left now, and Penny's coming. I 
don't want her to see me on these drugs. Where the hell is 
Scully, anyway? 

"Scully!" I yell. 

Ah, here she is. She stands at the foot of my bed. 
"Pendrell, I-"

"I don't want your apology. Don't tell me you'd 
take my place if you could, because you wouldn't if you 
knew what this felt like. Just get me the hell off these 
drugs. Where's Penny? Did you call her? Has anyone 
called her?"

Scully looks taken aback. As if she hadn't 
expected me to speak to her like that. Tough shit, Scully, I 
didn't wanna die for you. Or for that stupid ass truth, 
either. I finally get my act together and now I get shot and 
I'm dying. Fucking perfect. 

"Pendrell, if I take you off the drugs you're going 
to be in extreme pain-"

"I don't care, get me off these things. I don't 
want Penny to see me like this. Where is she? Is she 
coming? I have to talk to her, it's important."

She sighs. "All right, I'll slow the IV drip so 
you're not getting as much." She does something with my 
IV . I wouldn't know the difference. For all I know, she's 
probably increased my dosage. "Who's Penny?" she asks 
while she works.

I snort. "Penny Bradshaw. My partner. My 
girlfriend. Where is she? Where's Father Antony? I'm not 
going to hell because you've got me on all these drugs."

"Hello, Alan." 

Here's Father Antony. He's a younger guy, 
about ten years older than me. I'm Roman Catholic. I go 
to Church every Sunday, and I believe in God indefinitely. 
"Hey Father," I reply back. "Doesn't look like I'm gonna 
be in Church next week."

He sits down in the chair beside me. "You'll be 
with God, Alan."

"They've got me on all these drugs. I keep 
swearing. I don't think God's gonna want me by the time 
I die, and I've only got fifteen minutes left."

He smiles gently at me. "I think God is more 
forgiving than you imagine, Alan."

I nod. "Hopefully, otherwise I'm in deep sh-
ugar. Whew, I barely caught that one, Father."

He laughs softly. I guess I'm funnier on drugs. 
"It's okay." He administers my last rites. Maybe I'll get 
into heaven after all. 

"Where's Penny?" I ask again when he's 
finished. 

"Right here."

I look up and my heart constricts in my chest. 
Penny's big green eyes are wet and red-rimmed. She 
looks so sad. I ache for her. I don't think I'd mind dying 
so much if it wasn't going to hurt Penny the way it was. I 
love her so much. Her full lips are pulled back against her 
face. She's trying not to cry. I watch her come towards 
my bed. Scully and Father Antony leave us alone. 

"Penny, don't hold it in," I tell her. She sits down 
in the hard chair by my bed, and links her hand with mine. 
She kisses the back of my hand, and looks at me. A tear 
slides down her cheek, glittering. Suddenly she's sobbing 
into my arm. She stands and leans over my hospital bed. I 
put both arms around her and hold her close to me for the 
last time. God, I love her so much. She breaks down, 
sobbing, and I try to tell her that it's going to be all right 
when I realize it won't be for her. I'm dying. I'll be in 
heaven with any luck, she'll still be here on earth. Without 
me. So I try to think of something to make her laugh. I 
hate to see Penny cry. I want to kiss away her tears and 
make love to her right here in this hospital room. 
Anything to take away her pain.

"Hey, Penny," I begin. My voice is growing 
weaker. I cough and I hate myself when I see blood 
dotting her hair. It's getting increasingly hard to breathe. 
"If we're lucky, God'll let me use Tom Cruise's body to 
come back for conjugal visits."

It works. She laughs. Not a very happy laugh, but 
enough to break through her sobs. She looks up at me, 
and sees the blood on my lips. She wipes it away with her 
fingers very gently. I can't feel my feet anymore.

I'm dying.

"I don't want Tom Cruise's body, though. I want 
you," she says to me. 

I give her a look. "A louse like me? Come on! I 
got the beginnings of a pot belly, I'm pale and I've got red 
hair and freckles."

"I know, you're absolutely perfect," she 
whispers. Maybe she's talking. I can't tell. Everything 
seems so hushed all of a sudden. 

"Penny, you know I love you, right?" I say.

Her throat moves. Constricts. She fights against 
it, trying to keep her voice steady. "I love you, too."

"I've loved you forever," I whisper. I cough 
again and taste copper blood in my mouth. "I'm so sorry 
it took me such a long time to realize it."

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I thought we 
had time," she says simply. 

"It's okay. I did, too," I say. I can't feel anything 
from the waist down anymore. It's like someone is eating 
my soul piece by piece. "I bought you a ring."

I don't want her to cry so I kiss her. She kisses 
me back desperately, hungrily. When we break apart, her 
eyes are drowning in tears. I feel them on my face. 

"I love you, Penny. Please don't forget that," I 
beg.  It's not fair I have to leave her. I'm going.

No, stop, stop stop! Dammit, don't do this, I 
need more time, just a little bit more.

My lungs constrict and now I can actually feel 
them filling up. I let my breath out, and let the blood take 
over.

"I won't," she whispers. "I love you."

I feel her put her head on my chest and cry. I feel 
my body fading away. I'm just standing by the side of my 
hospital bed, watching my body. Watching Penny. After a 
few moments, Scully comes in. She touches Penny on the 
arm, and then hauls her up from the bed. She puts one 
arm around Penny's shoulders and leads her out into the 
hall. I go with them out into the hospital corridor as a 
nurse and a doctor rush in the room. I pass right through 
them, at the same time feeling something tugging at my 
being. Like a tap on the shoulder. I ignore it for now, I 
want to see Penny, just a few more moments to look at 
her, so I'll recognize her later. 

Scully's talking to her.

"I'm sorry Penny, I'm very sorry. I've lost 
people too and it's hard-"

Penny shakes her head. She's not bitter, but very 
sad and at this moment, very lonely. "You haven't lost 
Alan," she says simply. I watch her shuffle out of Scully's 
half embrace and walk down the corridor all by herself. 

Please forgive me for leaving you, Penny. 

I turn and give myself up to the being pulling me 
away from this life. 

I'll wait for Penny for all eternity.

I have all that time to live.

THE END

So . . . whadidja think? 
****************************************************
"If there's an iced tea in that bag, could be love."
"Must be fate, Mulder. Root beer."
- an excerpt from "Tooms"

"I think it's about something we have no personal choice in. I think it's about fate."
- Fox Mulder, Paperclip

"No more," he growled. "You're tempting fate."
"Sometimes it is very . . . pleasant to tempt fate. Fate
is so very big after all, so very warm. I can almost feel it
pulsing right here at my fingertips. *Fate*, that is," Silver
purred.
- an excerpt from Come the Night by Christina Skye

Fate is under-rated. :-)