All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part... go ahead, take me to court...I'm using the insanity defence... heh, heh, heh...
Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@goodmedia.com
Summary: A thoughtful meeting between partners...Spoilers: Entire series up to Fifth Season...Rating: oh, G... story... maybe a bit of MSR... whatever....;-)
I Wish... (1/1)by Sheryl Martin
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dana Scully let herself fall back onto the thick lumpy hotel-issue mattress; letting out a sigh.
It hadn't been their worst case.
But it definitely had made their top five.
No answers; more questions and missing bodies, either dead or alive. All in all, another frustrating day's work in the X Files.
She kicked off her shoes, listening to them hit the wall with a satisfying thump.
It didn't upset her as much as it used to. Which was either a good sign or a bad sign. Either she was jaded and just didn't care anymore; or was a glutton for punishment.
But right now she was more concerned for Mulder.
Looking up at the ceiling, Scully let out her breath in a slow hiss; letting her frustration leak free.
He had been stoic to the end; just nodding when the local police had shrugged their collective shoulders and turned their backs. When the evidence had conveniently been "misplaced" yet again.
On the other hand, their hotel hadn't been burned down lately.
Sitting up wearily, the petite redhead dug in her suitcase for some fresh clothing; walking into the bathroom. Maybe a hot shower would help wash away the weariness.
But she doubted it. And if she felt this bad, Mulder had to feel worse.
An hour later she exited the washroom; the worn Academy sweatshirt tugged over a pair of well-worn jeans. Running the brush through her almost-dry hair, Scully looked out the window.
The motel was a small one by the side of the road, just outside of the town. Not much more than the basics, but enough for them.
He stood at the edge of the road, his hands jammed into the jeans he had worn. The black leather jacket merging with the darkness around him; making him a chameleon of the night.
His head tilted back, he stared up into the night sky; his mouth slightly open as he exhaled, the thin mist rising over his head like a ghostly halo.
Scully shuddered, thinking of all the times he had almost been a ghost.
Reaching for her thick coat, she pulled it on; grabbing the room key and slipping it into her pocket instinctively. Better safe than sorry.
Stopping at the door she paused for a second, making sure it would stay unlocked. After all, she wasn't going far.
Hopefully.
Scully stepped out into the brisk night air; wrapping her arms around her to trap some of the heat from the hotel room as she strode out to him.
"Mulder..."
"Hmm?" His eyes never left the sky. "Yah, Scully?"
She peered up, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. "What are you doing?"
"Ever just look at the stars when you get out of the city, Scully?" He didn't turn to look at her; just spoke. "It's so different when there's no buildings; no office towers or monuments to ourselves."
She nodded, shuffling her feet on the gravel. "Well, the amount of extra light given off by any large city makes stargazing challenging."
"Ever wish on a star, Scully?"
"No, Mulder..." The answer came out in a sad whisper. "I don't do that anymore."
"Did you? Once, I mean..." A hand waved at the tapestry over their heads. "Just pick a star and wish on it for what you wanted most?"
"Maybe... maybe a few times..." She admitted, standing beside him; her head tilted up at the same angle. "But I don't do that anymore..."
"Why not?" Finally dragging his eyes away from the stars, he looked directly at her. "Why not?"
"Because I grew up, Mulder..." The words came out harder than she wanted; making her cringe inwardly. "Because I don't believe as much as I used to..."
"You gave up?"
"I grew up." The words were almost apologetic.
"Oh..." Returning his gaze skywards, Mulder nodded. "Don't worry, Scully - you're not the only one. I think there's less and less people wishing on stars these days. Doesn't seem to have the appeal it once had."
"What... what do you usually wish for?" She said softly.
He shrugged, the jacket rising and falling in the dim light of the motel. "I wish that I'd find out what really happened to Samantha." The words ran on; bubbling out of his mouth. "I wish I knew who killed my father. I wish that I knew the truth about my father. I wish your sister were still alive. I wish that we might win just one small battle in this war, just one clear cut win. I wish..." Mulder's voice dropped down, tired and worn. "I wish I knew the truth about your cancer. I wish I had Smoking Man here to tell me the answers. I wish..." His voice broke with a pained sigh.
"I wish I could change a lot of things. I wish that I had the strength to do what I know I should do; what I want to do." He kept staring upwards, lost in the sky. "I wish I could be more than just a partner to you. I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me; how I care for you. I wish I could be worthy of having someone like you as a friend. I wish I could tell you that I love you, Scully. And how I want to make love to you." His eyes closed, shutting off the stars.
He waited in darkness, barely breathing.
Suddenly he felt her slender arms curl around his waist, pulling him back into a hug. Her face tightly pressed against the back of his neck; her fingers entwined with his as they rubbed against the leather jacket.
He kept his head bent back, images dancing behind his closed eyelids.
The hands withdrew.
A soft shuffling noise; of shoes on gravel. Growing distant, then fading.
The sound of a door shutting.
Opening his eyes, Mulder let out his breath slowly; feeling a single tear track down his left cheek.
Pulling his hands free of his jean pockets, he dug in his jacket pockets for his room key.
And found not one, but two keys.
Looking skyward, he chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip; one eyebrow raised at the stars.
A soft whisper.
"Thanks..."
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