Barely Balancing
Author: Frohike
Email: frohike51@aol.com
Rating: R
Category: MSR
Spoilers: Not really. If you're not a loyal viewer, you'll miss a few in-jokes, but nothing major. If you want to be really picky, maybe little itty bitty ones from Tunguska on, but I promise, nothing you read will spoil any episode for you.
Distribution: Baby, you can post this anywhere! Just leave my name and addy intact and be sure to let me know where it is, so I can come visit.
Mim, thanks for all the late night chats, for giving me the courage to continue when self-doubt threatened to consume me and for knowing all the right things to say. You may not realize it, but you keep me sane. You are my touchstone, my Furious Rose.
Woozle, thanks for the support, encouragement and the occasional slap on wrist when I got a little self-indulgent or lost my way. I appreciated all the comments, even if I didn't agree with everything you had to say. Special thanks for pointing out all the times I confused its with it's and vice versa. Good thing my students are too young to read this *g*.
To the gang at Philing, I love you all. Even the stubborn one who probably won't bother reading this because it's too long. I won't mention names, but you know who you are *g*.
Feedback: Yes, please. Praise will make my day; flames will be used to lure Krycek to my side; either way, I win *g*. Can you say 'incendiary device'? Sorry, inside joke. Talk to me people.
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Parking garage, FBI offices Washington DC
She had no sooner buckled her seat belt, than the familiar sound of a cell phone hit her ears. *Damn it, Mulder, what do you want now? * she thought.
"Scully."
"Agent Scully, it's Byers, we've found something you might want to see."
Scully rolled her eyes. "OK, I'll call Mulder and we'll be over as soon as we can."
"No, don't call Mulder," Byers said quickly. "It's about Diana Fowley."
"I'm on my way."
She wanted to race over there to see what the boys had found, instead she found herself unable to move. "What ifs" flew through her mind at an alarming speed. Unable to stop the barrage of thoughts, she put her head down on the steering wheel. A tap on the window startled her out of her reverie.
"You OK, Scully?"
"Oh, Mulder, hi. Yeah, I'm fine, just a little distracted."
Mulder frowned, having heard that line one too many times. "Are you sure? You look a little pale."
"I'm FINE, Mulder, it's just been a long week and I've got a lot on my mind right now."
"Hey, I was just going to grab some dinner, want to join me?"
Scully gave him her best 'stop-patronizing-me-I'm-fine' smile. "Thanks Mulder, but I have plans for the evening."
"Ooooh, hot date?? Anyone I know?"
"Actually, you do know her." She laughed as his eyes widened. "Pop those eyes back in your head, Mulder. I promised my mother I'd have dinner with her tonight."
"Well, there goes THAT fantasy."
"Go home, Mulder." Scully shook her head. "I'll call you tomorrow." With that, she started the car and drove off.
Lone Gunman HQ
Scully knocked on the door and heard the sound of little gunmen feet approaching. "It's me, Frohike, open up."
Frohike opened the door. "How'dja know it was me?" He stepped aside, allowing her to come into their lair.
"You always answer the door, Frohike. For guys who are so paranoid, you'd think you could be a little less predictable."
Frohike looked at Langly. Langly looked at Byers. Byers looked at both of them. They seemed to be giving her observation careful consideration.
Scully cleared her throat impatiently. "Byers, you said you had something to show me…"
"Oh, right." Byers reached up and straightened his tie. "We got a tip that Agent Fowley was meeting with someone outside of the FBI, so Langly followed her." He opened his mouth to continue, but was cut off.
"Got a tip from whom?"
Byers looked at Langly and Frohike. Langly suddenly became very interested in the ceiling, while Frohike studied his shoes.
"Got a tip from whom?"
Byers looked at his partners and sighed. "Well, we decided that it would make things a little easier…if… we…"
Scully crossed her arms and glared at Byers. "If you, what?"
"If we bugged her home phone."
Byers watched as Langly and Frohike slowly backed out of the room. *Great, leave me here to face this by myself. Cowards. *
Scully raised her left hand, gently pinched the bridge of her nose and began to shake her head. She didn't know whether to yell at them, smile at them or kiss them. She peeked out over her fingers. Byers looked terrified and the other two were still inching their way out of the room. *Cowards* she thought. Yelling was out. After considering the consequences of kissing Frohike, she decided that smiling was the way to go. Slowly lowering her hand, she looked at Byers and gave him an evil grin. "So what did you find out?"
Byers let go of the breath he'd been holding, while Langly and Frohike rushed back into the room. "After we intercepted her call, Frohike and I followed her. I took these." Langly picked up a manila envelope and handed it to her.
Scully hesitated a moment before opening the envelope. She reached in and pulled out a handful of photos; there were six of them, all showing Diana Fowley having an intimate conversation with him, CGB Spender, Cancerman. Each picture was more damning than the last; Fowley sitting across from him, leaning in closer, standing up, walking over to him, standing behind him, wrapping her arms around him. In every one, that black-lunged son-of-a-bitch was smiling. Smiling!! Scully didn't even know the man could smile.
"Scully?" Frohike reached over to take the pictures. "Scully?"
"Oh,… what?" Scully looked up, surprised to find that Frohike was trying to gently pry the photos out of her clenched fists.
"We might want these later."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. Sorry." Scully released her grip on the pictures and allowed him to put them back in the envelope. Here it was, proof that Fowley was not to be trusted; proof that even Mulder couldn't rationalize away. Well, at least not the Mulder she thought she knew; his blind spot for this woman was unparalleled. *He has to see these. He has to understand that this woman is not his ally. Damn it, I have to make him listen to me. *
"Scully, what do you want to do now?"
She didn't move. Byers looked at the boys and shrugged his shoulders. *Maybe she didn't hear me. * He had just decided to repeat his question, when Scully looked up.
"Byers, when was the last time you got good 'n drunk?"
Casey's BarSoutheastern D.C.
After some discussion, the boys finally decided on Casey's. Not their usual choice, but then again, they wouldn't want to take Scully to their usual choice. That place was a veritable meat market of techno-geeks and nerds, not the kind of place a woman like Scully could go to relax. Besides, she needed to blow off some steam and the boys were afraid she might draw her gun on the first techno-geek that offered to 'upgrade her modem'. At Casey's, their biggest problem would be to keep Frohike in line, or so they thought.
They settled in a back booth where Frohike could keep watch on the entrance. Like gun- slingers of old, he firmly believed in never sitting with his back to the door. Langly sat next to him, while Byers and Scully took the opposite side. When the waitress made her way back to take their order, the boys deferred to Scully.
"Let's make this easy," she said. "We'll go with beer. Bring us a pitcher and make it a bottomless one."
Four pitchers later
"Damn him, why won't he listen to me? It's always 'you don't know her like I do, Scully', 'she was there at the beginning, Scully', 'she's trying to protect me, Scully', 'I love you, Scully.'
Frohike choked on his beer. "You wanna run that last one by us again?"
"What one? What are you talking about, Frohike?"
"The last one, the 'I love you, Scully'. When did Mulder say ' I love you, Scully.'?"
"In the hospital, after his stupid trip to the Bermuda Triangle. He didn't mean it, Frohike, he was drugged." Scully went quiet after that. The boys looked at her and at each other, not knowing what to do next. Byers turned to look at her.
"Did you want him to mean it, Scully?"
"No, of course not. Maybe. I don't know." Scully studied the half-empty glass in her hand.
Byers lifted her chin and asked her again, saying each word slowly, as if he were trying to elicit the truth from a small child. "Did you want him to mean it?"
Scully nodded her head, then drained the remaining beer from her glass.
They sat there quietly, no one knowing quite what to say. When the waitress appeared with a fresh pitcher, Scully poured herself another glass and drained that one as well. Byers, who was not much of a drinker, followed her lead. It was his fifth glass of the night and his low tolerance to alcohol was beginning to show. Without warning, he slammed his glass down on the table. "Damn him! Why do you let him get away with this Scully? He takes you for granted and you let him. Doesn't he know what he has? And, while we're on the subject, just what the hell is your problem? If you love him, don't you think that you oughta tell him? Geez, the two of you are so afraid of…"
"Whoa dude, I think you've had enough," said Langly as he reached for Byers' glass.
"I have not had enough, Langly and why is it so damned hot in here?"
Byers reached up and yanked at his tie. When the knot loosened, he pulled the tie off over his head and threw it at Langly; then he reached up and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. "So, are you going to talk to Mulder about this or do I have to do it?"
"Talk to him about what, my feelings, his feelings?" She frowned and shook her head. "He wouldn't take me seriously. He'd just make a joke about my needing an exorcism or about a shift in planetary alignment. What would be the point?"
Byers got up from the table. "Okay, guess it's up to me," he said as he stumbled toward the door. Frohike and Langly exchanged puzzled looks. Scully raised her hands in the universal what-the-Hell-just-happened-here sign.
"You don't think…." Frohike started.
"He's going to Mulder's apartment? Naaa, he wouldn't…would he?" Langly finished.
Scully's eyes widened. *Oh my God, he's going to Mulder's? * The thought frightened and excited her at the same time. *So what if he goes to Mulder's, what's the worst that could happen. Byers is drunk, so Mulder will just give him a cup of coffee and send him home, right? Mulder wouldn't take him seriously. *
"Scully, we need to find Byers now!"
She looked at Langly. "Why, he's a big boy, I'm sure he can take care of himself."
"Um, Dana, it's not Byers we're worried about," explained Frohike. "The last time he got this drunk…. well….he…"
"He beat the crap out of Thinker."
"Langly, will you stop finishing my sentences."
"If you'd stop stumbling over your words, I wouldn't have to."
"Look you long-haired, punk-ass, I am perfectly capable of finishing…."
Scully slammed her glass down on the table. "Oh for Pete's sake, will you two quit bickering. If he's that nasty a drunk, we'd better get to Mulder and soon."
Mulder's apartment
Byers pushed the elevator button for the third time in as many seconds. *Why the hell do they need an elevator to get to apartment 42 anyway? 42 should be on the first floor. Even the building Mulder lives in is screwed up! * Finally, after a lifetime, (30 seconds) the elevator landed and the doors opened. He got in and paced until the elevator arrived at Mulder's floor. He made his way down the hall to Mulder's door. When he found 42, or 2, the 4 had fallen on the floor again *why doesn't he just fix that damned number? *, Byers began pounding on the door. "Mulder." BANG, BANG, BANG. "I know you're in there, Mulder, open up." BANG, BANG, BANG. "Open the damned door."
Just as he raised his hand to hit the door again, it opened. Mulder stood there and glared at Byers. "Get in here." Mulder pulled Byers in and closed the door. "What the Hell are you doing banging on my door like that?" Mulder looked at Byers a little closer and caught a whiff of his breath. "Jesus, you're drunk! Come on, I'll make some coffee and try to sober you up."
"I don't want your damned coffee Mulder, I came here to tell you what a first-class asshole you are."
Mulder looked taken aback. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me; I said you're a first-class asshole."
"Did I miss something here? I've been told that I'm one sorry son of a bitch, but a first-class asshole? What did I do now?"
Byers began to slowly advance toward Mulder. Not liking the look in Byers' eyes, Mulder backed up, matching his pace step for step. When Byers raised his hand, Mulder actually flinched. He didn't relax until he realized that Byers was only pointing at him. Byers shook his finger at Mulder and began to rant and pace the floor. "You are an asshole, because you treat Scully like dirt. You expect her to follow you with- out question, take your word for everything, trust your every instinct, then you ask her to make it all better when you screw up. She deserves better than that. Do you know how much you hurt her every time you defend that bitch, that Agent Fowley? She's evil Mulder, evil, evil, evil! She's working with Cancerman. Hell, she may even be sleeping with that black-lunged son of a bitch. You should see the pictures Langly took of the two of them together; maybe that would make you believe. Goddamn it Mulder, Scully loves you and…"
"Byers, hold on," Mulder reached over and picked up an envelope, "these pictures?" He handed the envelope to Byers. Byers opened it and found a series of pictures very much like the ones Langly had given to Scully earlier that evening.
"Where did you get these?"
Mulder took the pictures and tossed them back on the table. "An anonymous source sent them to the office this afternoon. I had them analyzed. I was going to tell Scully after work tonight, but she had plans. Maybe I should have pushed the issue, but she looked so….distracted." He paused. "Did you just say that Scully loves me?"
Byers felt his blood boiling. He glared at Mulder and started walking toward him again. This time Mulder didn't move. He had no choice really, he was up against the arm of his couch; the only thing to do would be to sit down and that didn't seem like a good idea. "YOU KNEW! YOU'VE HAD THESE GODDAMNED PICTURES SINCE THIS AFTERNOON AND YOU DIDN'T TELL HER?" He couldn't contain his anger any longer. He clenched his fist, pulled back and prepared to knock Mulder on his ass. Just as he was throwing the punch, the door flew open.
"BYERS, NO!" Scully yelled. "MULDER, LOOK OUT!"
Too late, the punch had already been thrown. Mulder tried to get out of its path, but found his eye being rudely introduced to Byers' fist. The impact knocked Mulder over the arm of the couch; as he hit the seat, his body slid off and he found himself lying on the floor. When Mulder finally opened his eyes, Scully was bending over him, getting ready to apply a cool compress to his aching eye. Off to his right, he saw that Langly and Frohike were holding on to Byers.
"He all right, Scully?" asked Frohike.
"He'll be fine, as usual. His eye's a little worse for wear, but he'll survive."
"Hey Scully, be sure to tape his explanation to Skinner for us, we could use a good laugh," Langly added.
"I just might do that Langly," Scully smiled up at him. "How's Byers doing?"
"He'll be fine in the morning, he'll have one mother of a headache, but he'll be his old anal-retentive self again."
"Too bad, I kinda like action-figure Byers."
Frohike and Langly laughed. Frohike hiked Byers up over his shoulder like a rag doll. "Come on action-man, let's get you home," he said.
The boys left, closing the door behind them as they went. Scully knew that it would be a long time before Byers would be able to look either of them in the face again. She smiled at the thought. *Better send him a thank you note and a large bottle of aspirin, it's not everyday that a man fights for your honor. *
Mulder got up off of the floor and sat down on the couch. Scully joined him, sitting on the opposite end. She was still mad at him and didn't trust herself to sit too close.
"Scully, would you mind telling me what just happened here?"
"Well Mulder, it would appear that you've managed to piss Byers off. What exactly did you say to him anyway?"
"ME! He came banging on my door, yelling for me to open up and then went on a rant about how I've been treating you. When I showed him the pictures I got this afternoon, he went ballistic and punched me."
"What pictures, Mulder?"
Mulder didn't say anything for a moment. *Truth time old boy. Hope she doesn't decide to take out my other eye. * He pointed at the pictures sitting on the table. Scully reached over, picked them up and began looking at them. "You got these this afternoon? When? How come you didn't show them to me?"
He could see that look in her eyes. *Oh shit, she's gonna go for the other one. * "I wanted to have someone look at them before I showed them to you. I needed to be sure that they were authentic. And, I guess I just wasn't ready to hear 'I told you so'."
"And?"
"And? What?"
"Are you convinced these are authentic?"
Mulder hung his head, unable to look her in the eyes. "Yes," he whispered. "I didn't want to believe it, Scully. Diana and I worked together for so long, she was there when I found the X-files…A part of me knew that she was lying, but I couldn't make myself believe that she would betray me. Byers was right, I am a first-class asshole." He looked up at Scully. "I'm sorry, Scully, I never meant to hurt you. You're my anchor, the only one who's never lied to me, the only one I trust."
"Mulder, you may be a jerk, but I don't think you quite qualify as a first-class asshole; not yet anyway," she said, smiling. "I know it's hard for you to let go of your beliefs, I just wish you'd trust my judgment once in a while."
"Scully, I trust you, you know that, don't you?"
"Lately Mulder, I haven't been too sure."
"Scully, no matter what I may say or do, I will always trust you."
Mulder reached over and took hold of Scully's hand. They sat there for a while, holding hands, not saying anything. "Scully," Mulder said, gently rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand, "Byers said something else before you came to my rescue."
Scully kept her eyes on the floor. She knew what was coming. *I'm not ready for this. * She took a deep breath. "What did he say?"
"He said that you loved me." Mulder squeezed her hand. "Do you, Scully? Do you love me?"
She didn't move. *Come on Dana, here's your chance. * "Mulder…" She wanted to answer the question, really she did, but the words just wouldn't come.
"Look Scully, I know you thought it was the medication talking, but when I told you I loved you in the hospital, I meant it. Maybe the drugs gave me the courage to say it out loud, but the sentiment wasn't drug-induced." He slid over until their legs touched, brought her hand up to his lips and gently kissed it.
She took a deep breath and raised her head to look at him. He's waiting for an answer Dana. *Mom? I don't remember inviting you to play in my head. This is hard enough without you putting your two cents in.* Stop carrying on conversations in your head and answer the man already! *Yes, mother. * "Mulder," she began, again. "I love you, too."
Mulder smiled and pulled her into his arms. They sat there, content in the knowledge and for now, it was enough.
9:27 AMLone Gunmen HQ
"C'mon buddy, you gotta get up sometime." Frohike placed a cup of coffee on the nightstand next to Byers' bed. He reached over and patted Byers on the arm. "Rise and shine, action-man, we got conspiracies to uncover and phones to tap."
Byers opened his eyes, looked at Frohike, then tried to sit up. Big mistake! The pounding in his head forced him back down on his pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to form a coherent thought. It was then he noticed the taste in his mouth. If he had to classify it, he would have to say it tasted like three-day old gym socks. No, make that, three-day old gym socks worn by someone with an acute case of athlete's foot. He ran his tongue over his teeth. No, that still wasn't quite right. Got it, three-day old gym socks worn by someone with an acute case of athlete's foot and stored in an equally old jock strap! He checked his teeth again. Yeah, that's it. He opened his eyes. Frohike was standing over his bed, snickering.
"Go away, Frohike."
Langly stuck his head in the door. "Hey Frohike, he up yet?"
Frohike stepped aside to reveal a prone Byers.
"Go away Langly."
"No way dude, I got strict orders from Scully to give you this as soon as you woke up." Langly walked over to Byers and dropped a bag on his stomach. It made a rattling sound as it hit. Byers winced, not from the impact, but from the thunderous sound emanating from the bag. He opened it and pulled out a large bottle of aspirin. Not the little 50-count bottle, this one had 800 tablets inside. Attached to the bottle was a note that read, "Thanks for coming to my rescue, action man. Scully." He looked over at Langly and Frohike, then back at the note, a look of confusion on his face. * Rescue? Action man? What the Hell is she talking about? Why is she sending me aspirin? What, exactly did I do last night? Why are these two idiots staring at me like I...* A flood of memories hit Byers. Scully looking at some pictures. Casey's Bar. Beer... lots of beer. Mulder. His eyes widened at the thought. *Oh shit, Mulder! I didn't... * He lifted up his right hand and looked at the bruise forming around his knuckles. * Oh man, I did...* He looked over at his partners. "Would one of you mind telling me what happened last night?"
Home of the FBI's most unwanted9:27 AM
Mulder tossed the fifteenth pencil of the morning into the ceiling panel. They were up-to-date on their paperwork, for once, and had no new x-files to investigate. With Scully in Quantico performing an autopsy, he had nothing left to do. OK, so that wasn't entirely true, there were plenty of old case files to go through, plenty of cases that Spender had let fall by the wayside, but he couldn't concentrate on anything. Byers had opened up a whole new world of extreme possibilities last night with a few choice words and one mean right hook. He reached up to touch his swollen eye. * Great, how am I going to explain this one to Skinner?* He'd come in early this morning to avoid running into anyone, but that was not to be. Just as the elevator door was closing, a hand reached out. The door opened to reveal Skinner's assistant. To her credit, she didn't say anything to him about his eye, just gave him a smile and a cheery "Good morning, Agent Mulder." *I could say that Scully hit me. No one would have any trouble believing that. They'd probably all congratulate her on finally coming to her senses. * He smiled at the thought.
"Agent Mulder, what the Hell happened to your eye?"
Mulder turned his head toward the door. *Great, so much for having time to come up with a story. Think fast Mulder, time's up. * "Good morning, sir. I, uh, ran into a little ...situation last night. It's a long story." He gave Skinner his best no-big-deal look and shrugged his shoulders. *Please just accept that and go away. Please, please, please. *
"Not good enough, Mulder, not this time. Kimberly said you looked like you went a round with Tyson last night and as Assistant Director, it's my duty to investigate any incidents involving my agents. I'm going to assume that this injury was not incurred in the line of duty, so would you care to enlighten me as to the circumstances?"
"Let's just say that I've been behaving like a 'first class asshole' lately and it took a right hook to bring me to my senses."
"So Agent Scully did this to you?"
Mulder tried to stop the grin he felt forming. "No sir, if Agent Scully had hit me, I'd probably be in the hospital, instead of at my desk."
Skinner thought about that a moment then shook his head. "You're probably right. So, who did hit you?"
Mulder gave him a pained look. "You're not going to let this go are you, sir?"
Skinner smiled. "Not on your life, Mulder, I've been waiting for a chance to kick your ass since that Bermuda Triangle incident. Now that someone has beaten me to the punch, so to speak, I want details. Who was it?"
Mulder's head dropped. He puffed out his cheeks, then slowly let the air leak out. "Byers."
Skinner raised his eyebrows at the sound of the familiar name. "Byers? As in you-can-strip-Byers-naked, Byers? Come on Mulder, you can do better than that. Now, Frohike, I could believe, but Byers?"
Mulder stared at Skinner, gave him a half-smile, then shrugged his shoulders. Skinner watched him, waiting for a sign that Mulder was pulling his leg. When the sign didn't appear, Skinner repeated the question.
"Byers?" Skinner took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Would you please explain to me why and... how... he did this to you?"
Mulder took a deep breath. He wasn't entirely clear on the events of last night himself, but he thought he had a pretty good idea of what happened. Opting for the truth, or as much of it as he could deliver, Mulder began his response. "Apparently, Agent Scully..."
"So, Agent Scully WAS involved in this?"
*Shit. * "Yes sir, apparently she received a call from the Lone Gunmen, concerning a case. The information upset her and the boys decided to cheer her up by taking her to Casey's."
"Wait a minute, you're trying to tell me that Scully went out on the town with the Three Stooges? What the Hell did they have that upset her so much?"
"I don't know. As I was saying, the boys took her out and during the course of the evening, the conversation turned to some incidents between Scully and myself. I guess that Byers took exception to my treatment of Scully. He showed up on my door, obviously drunk and proceeded to express his displeasure. Unfortunately, I guess I said the wrong thing and..." Mulder motioned toward his eye. "Scully and the rest of the boys showed up just in time to witness the event. When I came to, Scully was applying a cold compress to my eye and Frohike was carrying Byers out the door. "
"That's it? That's the whole explanation?"
Mulder threw his hands up. "That's all I can tell you, sir. If you need more, you'll have to talk to Agent Scully."
Skinner shook his head and returned his glasses to their rightful position. "No, Mulder, I think I'll just let this one go. I'll let you get back to work." Just as the word "work" left his mouth, a pencil fell down from the ceiling. Skinner raised his eyes upward and saw the pencil collection Mulder had started earlier. He leveled a glare at Mulder, who grinned sheepishly, then turned to walk out of the office. He stopped in the doorway and turned around. "Byers?" He shook his head again, then left the room.
Lone Gunmen HQ11:45 AM
Four aspirin, three cups of coffee and one long, hot shower later, Byers finally felt capable of returning to the land of the living. How could he possibly make this up to Scully? She'd trusted him with her feelings for Mulder and he'd betrayed her with his stupidity. It had taken her years to learn to trust them and now...*Just call me Judas. * Maybe it wasn't as bad as he imagined. Maybe Mulder would chalk it all up to alcohol-induced insanity and forget the whole thing. Maybe he didn't really tell Mulder that Scully was in love with him. Maybe...*Give it up man, he won't and you did and that's just the way it is. * He looked in the mirror, straightened his tie and ran a comb through his hair. *Time to do a little damage control. * "Guys, I'm going out to do a little shopping."
Langly and Frohike looked at Byers, then at each other. *Shopping? *
"So dude, time to buy a new suit already? You've only had that one, what... five, six years?"
"Ha ha. That's rich, coming from a man whose, idea of formal wear is a clean T-shirt and black jeans. While we're at it, the Sixties are over, get a hair cut."
Langly opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Frohike stepped in. "Enough with the wardrobe wars." He looked at Byers. "So, what are we shopping for?"
"Peace offerings. I really screwed up last night and I need to make it right with Scully. With Mulder too, even if he did deserve it."
Frohike nodded. "Not a bad idea, you don't want to be on the lovely Agent Scully's bad side. Mulder's easy, I know a little shop..." Byers stopped him with a glare. "What?"
"I said peace offering, not 'piece' offering."
"Aw, c'mon, Byers, if you're trying to get back into his good graces, you gotta go with what you know he likes."
"I do not have to cater to his baser instincts! I was thinking of hitting that used bookstore in Georgetown. Last time I was there, they had a number of books on the paranormal, maybe there's something there that will compliment his collection."
Langly and Frohike nodded their heads in agreement.
"So, what do you have in mind for Scully?" Langly asked.
Scully was another matter entirely. He didn't think that a book would do the trick with her. *Yeah, right. Hey Scully, sorry about betraying your trust the other night. Here's a first edition of The Exorcist. * Oh sure, that would really smooth things over. Not! No, Scully was going to require a little more thought, a little more soul searching and a whole lot of luck. "Nothing concrete. I know I'm going to regret asking this, but do either of you have any ideas?"
Quantico12:15 PM
Scully walked out into the parking lot. No, not walked, more like skipped. She had finally freed herself from the clutches of the world's most obnoxious pathologist and her spirits were soaring. McCullough was good at his job, one of the best pathologists in the Bureau, but he was also a royal pain in the ass! He had called her into his office to get a second opinion on some test results. Second opinion led to coffee, which led to McCullough making yet another attempt to ask her out. Apparently the first twenty-seven "no" responses failed to hit home. This time she laid it all out for him.
"Look McCullough, you keep asking me out and I keep telling you no. Aren't you beginning to sense a pattern here?" She'd hoped that this would do the trick, but he just looked at her as if she was speaking Esperanto. *Sigh. * "I'm going to say this very slowly, McCullough. I am not now, nor will I ever be, interested in going out with you. Is that clear?" He looked a little taken aback as he nodded his understanding. *Yes! Houston, we have comprehension! * With any luck, this rejection would stick and she would never have to have this conversation again. *If all else fails, I could mention him to Byers over a couple of beers. * She snickered at the thought, then reached for her phone. "Mulder, it's me. I'm on my way back to the office. Meet me for lunch?"
Georgetown1:55 PM
Two hours later, the boys finally agreed on the perfect gift for Mulder. Byers was not overjoyed by the selection, but it did seem to be a perfect blend of Mulder's interests. On the back wall of Brendan's Book Nook, a haven for the out-of-print and hard-to-find, Langly had found a copy of Sex and the Occult by Gordon Wellesley. Long out of print, this book covered the relationship between sex and various occult rituals. For Mulder, this could be considered the best of both worlds.
"Langly, that book got any pictures?"
Langly kept the book from Frohike's grasp, while Byers threw him an "eat shit and die" look. "Grow up, Frohike," they said in unison.
"Hey Byers, better hope Mulder doesn't share this with Scully, this will give her nightmares for sure."
Frohike stared at Langly, then shook his head. "After all she's been through, you really think that a book is going to give her nightmares? For crying out loud man, Scully's been abducted by aliens and psychopaths, attacked by a liver-eating mutant, stung by an Africanized bee and put into cold storage; you're worried about a book giving her nightmares?"
"That was before Byers let the cat out of the bag, man. Suppose Mulder decides to finally open up himself? You don't think having this book on his nightstand isn't going to give Scully the creeps?"
Byers put the book down on the counter and reached for his wallet. *Nightmares. I bet she's had some that she's never shared with anyone, even Mulder. Especially Mulder. * "What about a dream catcher?"
Frohike and Langly stopped their conversation and looked over at Byers.
"You said that Scully would have nightmares if she saw this book; do you think that she already has nightmares? I mean, if I'd gone through everything that she's been through, I'd have nightmares."
They nodded their heads, shrugged their shoulders and muttered an assortment of "maybes, I guess so's and I don't knows."
The owner handed Byers his bag. "If you're interested, I have one. I bought a load of books at an estate sale a couple of weeks ago and found a bunch of stuff buried in one of the boxes. Most of it's junk, but the dream catcher's nice. I was going to put it up in back, but if you're interested, I'll be happy to sell it to you." Byers nodded, so the owner went back to get the dream catcher. It took him almost fifteen minutes, but he finally located it. "Here it is. Sorry it took so long, I couldn't remember where I put the darn thing."
Byers looked it over. It looked hand-made and very old. The feathers were dusty and the beads a bit dirty, but nothing that couldn't easily be cleaned. Overall, it was in very good condition. He was having a difficult time deciding, until he noticed the fetish in the web; it was a fox. He smiled. "I'll take it."
FBI Offices4:15 PM
"Mulder, even you can't believe in the existence of a Mothman! Come on, the wings and red eyes, it's like something out of a bad Japanese movie! Are you sure these people weren't having a Godzilla film festival that just got out of hand?"
"Scully, are you suggesting that the good people of Point Pleasant, West Virginia, were all stoned and having mass hallucinations? Because if you are, you should read the reports by..."
Knock, knock, knock.
"Mail call, agents. Must be your lucky day, packages just arrived for each of you." Mulder started to open his mouth when he was cut off. "Before you ask, Agent Mulder, yes, it has been checked out for bugs and incendiary devices, just as you requested. You know I wouldn't bring anything down here without giving it a once over."
Mulder smiled. "I knew I could count on you, Lowell."
Scully looked at Mulder, then at Lowell. "When did this happen? All packages are scanned before they're brought into the building, why the extra precautions?" She stopped for a moment and considered her words. Shaking her head, she reached out for the package. "Never mind, look who I'm asking." She rolled her eyes and put the package down on the desk. "Thanks Lowell."
"No problem Agent Scully. See you tomorrow."
Mulder opened his immediately. He pulled out the note that was attached to the neatly wrapped gift inside. "It's from Byers. 'Mulder, I hope you'll accept this as an apology for my hitting you last night.' I think he wanted to add a "but" in there Scully, what do you think?" He didn't look at her to see her response, there was no need, he already knew the answer. With all the enthusiasm of a child at Christmas, he ripped open the wrapping paper. "Look at this, Sex and the Occult. Scully, do you realize how hard this is to find? I should let Byers hit me more often. Aren't you going to open yours?"
"After seeing your treasure, I'm not sure I want to."
Mulder leaned over and picked Scully's package up off the desk. He shook it. "Sounds safe enough." He waved it in front of her face. "Come on Scully, you know you're dying to open it."
"Well, I suppose if it's from Byers it'll be safe." She took the package from his outstretched hand and sat on the corner of the desk. As she began to carefully peel back the tape, she heard Mulder's 'impatient' noise. "Look, you may enjoy shredding wrapping paper, but I prefer to unwrap my gifts carefully. I'm sure Byers put a great deal of time into this and I feel it only right to show some respect for the effort."
Mulder rolled his eyes and groaned. "You're just doing this to make me crazy, aren't you?"
Scully stopped unwrapping the package. "No, I'm doing this because this is how I like to unwrap my presents. Making you crazy is just a side benefit." She gave him a smug 'so there' look, which he returned.
"No note?"
"I don't see one, maybe it's inside." She peeled back the final piece of tape, put the box down on the desk and carefully folded the wrapping paper.
"Scullee!"
"'Patience is a virtue.' Mary Howitt, Mabel on a Midsummer's Day."
"'Open the damned package, Scully.' Fox Mulder, Federal Bureau of Investigation."
Scully reached over and lifted the lid off of the box. She picked up the note that was sitting on top of the tissue paper and waved it at Mulder. "Told you it was probably inside." She opened the note and began to read.
"So, what does it say?"
She looked up from the note. "It's personal, Mulder."
"I showed you mine," he whined.
*Not yet. * "And I appreciate your candor...quit pouting, it's unbecoming in a federal employee." Scully watched as Mulder attempted to use his 'wounded puppy face.' *Does that really work on anyone over the age of five? * She paused, staring at him, then sighed. *Yep, sure does. * "For crying out loud, Mulder, here." Scully handed him the note and watched his expression as he read.
"Scully, You trusted me with a confidence last night and I let you down. I hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive me someday. In the meantime, here is something to keep the nightmares at bay and sweeten your dreams. John"
"John? Scully, is there something you want to tell me? I've never heard anyone call him John."
"Mulder, people do occasionally use their first names. My guess would be that this is how Byers is choosing to show his sincerity. I think it's sweet."
Mulder rolled his eyes. Scully reached over and smacked him on the head. "Cut it out." Scully carefully folded back the tissue paper and pulled out the dream catcher. She held it up for Mulder to see. She looked closely at the beads and feathers, then noticed the fox fetish and laughed. "Subtle Byers, very subtle." She handed it to Mulder, who groaned. "Looks old. What do you think, Mulder?"
"I'd say it wasn't made recently. The beads and fetish are made of bone, not plastic, which tells me this one probably wasn't mass-produced. The feathers look a little worn, the wood on the loop is splintered and the web work looks fragile. Yeah Scully, I'd say this one has been around a while. Do you know the significance of the dream catcher?"
"I know it's put over cribs to help keep the bad dreams away."
Mulder leaned back in his chair, adopting his 'laid-back professor' stance. "The dream catcher acts as a filter. Dreams come in two sizes, good dreams are small, bad ones large and clumsy. The dream catcher allows the good dreams to slip through the hole in the middle and fall on the sleeping person below, while bad dreams get caught in the web where they burn away with the morning sun. That's probably what Byer's meant by keeping the nightmares at bay."
"Maybe I should get you one of these."
"Don't think so, Scully, I'd fill it up in less than a week."
"Mulder, you said yourself that the morning sun burns off the bad dreams, how could you fill it up?"
"You're asking me? Scully, if anyone could fill one of these things, it's me."
She frowned and nodded her head. He was right, he most certainly could fill a dream catcher. *For that matter, so could I. *
6:27 PMScully's apartment
Mulder couldn't sit still. This was the first time they'd been completely alone since the big confession. Lunch, while nice, didn't count, they'd eaten in a crowded café downtown. The office certainly didn't count, who knew how many bugs were there. He'd wanted to help with dinner, but Scully had tossed him out of the kitchen. * I was not underfoot. * He paced the floor until he spotted the dream catcher on the table. "Hey Scully, you got a hammer around here."
Scully stopped chopping up the tomato for their salad and looked toward the living room. "Do I even want to know why you're asking?"
Mulder walked in, carrying the dream catcher. "Just thought I could make myself useful and hang this over your bed."
She reached over, opened a drawer and pulled out a hammer. "Ever used one of these before, G-man?" she said, as she closed the drawer.
"It's been awhile. Let's see, the heavy part here hits the flat part of the nail and hopefully drives the nail into the wall. Do I get the job?"
"I suppose so. Look in the drawer, I know I have a few picture hooks in there somewhere."
Mulder opened the drawer and searched. He found a large picture hook and nail and showed them to Scully, before closing the drawer. "I'll be right back," he said as he turned to leave the room.
"Mulder?"
He stopped in the doorway and turned around. "Yeah."
"Try not to break anything."
Fighting the urge to make an inappropriate gesture, he smirked and left the room.
A short time later, Scully heard pounding on the wall, followed by an expletive and more pounding. She started to open her mouth, but her inner voice intervened. *Don't say it Dana, don't say it. * "You OK, Mulder?" * Just had to say it, didn't you? *
Mulder came into the kitchen and returned the hammer to the drawer. "Scully, I hate to tell you this, but one of the strands in the web broke. It's right next to one of the beads, so if we put a little drop of glue on it, we might be able to fix it so it's not that noticeable."
"For curiosity's sake Mulder, how did it break?"
"Um...it fell when I...uh...hit my thumb with the hammer."
"Glue's in the drawer."
"You want me to fix it?!"
"You broke it, Mulder, you fix it."
Mulder shrugged his shoulders and opened up the drawer once again. "Scully, I know what I'm getting you for Christmas this year."
"What's that?"
"A tool box. I can't believe you keep your tools in a drawer in the kitchen!"
"Why not? This way they're always close at hand. Besides, I already have a tool box."
"Where?"
"In the closet. I just keep the few tools I use most often in the drawer, that way I don't have to drag out the box every time a screw needs tightening or a picture needs to be hung. Now, stop stalling and go fix my dream catcher while I finish dinner."
Mulder raised his hand in a mock salute. "Yes Ma'am."
45 Minutes later...
Scully put the last plate in the sink and rinsed it off, while Mulder poured them each another glass of wine. With dinner out of the way and nothing left to be put up or repaired, it was time to come to terms with last night. They'd managed to avoid the subject all day, but she knew there was no getting away from it now. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and walked into the living room. Mulder was sitting on the couch staring off into space. She sat down beside him and picked up the wineglass from the table. "Mulder?" She waited for a response. "Mulder, where are you?"
He turned to her and smiled. "Sorry, just thinking. Scully, do you think we should call Byers and let him off the hook?"
"I guess we should. What are we going to tell him?"
"I was thinking we could tell him the truth."
"And what 'truth' would that be, Mulder?"
Mulder stared at her, not quite sure what to make of that question. After a second, he realized what she wanted. *She wants me to start. She wants me to tell her that I was serious last night. OK, if that's what she wants, that's what she's gonna get. * "I thought we could tell him that we're not mad about last night, that it made us realize there was something here we needed to explore. I thought I should thank him for knocking some sense into me, for helping me to remember that you are the most important person in my life. I thought I should tell him that I finally told you I love you. How's that for 'truth'?"
Scully watched him, waiting for the punch line, waiting for 'I had you big time'. When it didn't come, she stared at the wineglass in her hand. "Mulder, we need to talk."
She felt the wineglass being taken from her hand and heard it land on the table. A hand reached over and gently lifted her chin. Mulder gazed at her and smiled. *What do you know, I really do 'gaze' at Agent Scully. * "No more talking."
Mulder moved in slowly, waiting for her to push him away. *Last chance, Scully. * He felt her hand touch the back of his neck and pull him in. That was all the encouragement he needed to close the gap. Their lips met in a sweet, almost chaste, kiss. He pulled back a little and watched a smile slowly spread across her face. He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and kissed her again. Soft, gentle kisses all over her face and down her neck as his hands caressed her back. Back to her mouth. Her lips parted to allow his tongue entrance. Their tongues explored the inner recesses of the other's mouths, wrestling for control. She was lost in the sensation until his hand crept up and gently brushed the side of her breast. Scully broke the kiss abruptly.
"What's wrong? What did I do?"
"Mulder… nothing. It's not you. This is just more than I can handle right now. We're moving too fast. I need time to think."
Mulder's hand reached out to touch her cheek. "Scully, it's been six years, isn't that time enough?"
"Six years together Mulder, but only twenty-four hours since we said the words out loud. I need a little time to let this sink in."
"Always the rational one, aren't you?" He smiled and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. "Take all the time you need, I'm not going anywhere."
"Oh yes you are." She stood up, grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. "Go home, Mulder."
"You're throwing me out? Aw, c'mon Scully, I promise to be good. Look, my hands will never leave my wrists, I swear!"
She opened the door, pulled him close, gave him a quick kiss and pushed him out the door. She locked it and secured the chain.
Knock, knock, knock.
"What is it Mulder?"
"I love you, Scully."
"I love you too, Mulder. Go home."
She leaned against door and listened to the sound of his footsteps as he walked away. *I can't believe I just sent him home, am I nuts? No, I did the right thing. That's right, keep telling yourself that, Dana. Say it often enough and you might just believe it. Now what? * It was just after eight, too early to go to bed. She went to the couch and sat down. *Let's see if there's anything on tonight. * Flipping through the channels, she found a program on government conspiracies, some documentary on why planes crash and a few sitcoms. Disgusted with the choices, she clicked off the set. Walking over to the bookcase, she discovered that she'd finally read all the books. *Time to head out to the bookstore and lay in a fresh supply. * She considered going out, but decided that with her present state of mind, driving wasn't a good idea. Driving requires the ability to focus and her ability to focus dropped out of sight about the same time Mulder kissed her. *When all else fails, take a shower. * She learned a long time ago, that the sound and feel of water helped her concentrate on the problem at hand. *Problem? No, Mulder's not a problem, just a spanner in the works. A very nice, well constructed spanner. The kind of spanner that feels like it was tailor-made for you. The kind you'd be proud to take home to mother. Whoa, where did that come from? Two glasses of wine and you're rambling, Dana. Shut up and go take a shower! *
30 minutes laterMulder's apartment
Mulder walked into his apartment, tossed his keys on the table and picked up the phone. The number rang four times, before being picked up by the answering machine.
"Hi, this is Dana. I can't come to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you."
An evil grin passed his lips as he left his message. He hung up the receiver and prepared to take a shower, a very cold shower.
8:45 PMScully's apartment
The shower had worked its magic once again. Scully felt focused and completely relaxed. She dried her hair, put on her favorite pajamas and went out to make a cup of tea. *I think a little Sleepytime ought to do the trick tonight. * On her way out to the kitchen, she noticed the blinking light on the answering machine. "Oh, what now," she said to no one in particular. Part of her said 'ignore it', but the other part wouldn't let that happen. Pushing 'play', she braced herself for what she was sure would be bad news or, at the very least, a major annoyance.
"Scully, it's me. I'm going to take a wild guess and say that you're in the shower right now; are you sure you don't want a little help with those hard-to-reach places? I'm home; I'll be here all night, just in case you need me for anything. Anything at all, ...really. I love you."
Scully pushed rewind. After the third replay, she walked into the kitchen, opened the all-purpose drawer and pulled out a new tape. She took out the old cassette and replaced it with the new one. She wiggled it in her hand. *Concrete evidence, Agent Mulder. There's no going back now; I have your confession on tape. *
Forgetting all about the tea, Scully turned off the lights and went into the bedroom. She opened the drawer to the nightstand and placed the tape inside for safekeeping. Then she looked at the dream catcher. The strand Mulder had 'repaired' was now dangling. In his defense, she noted that there really wasn't much room for repair. Maybe she could try and restring it later. Better yet, maybe she should just leave it alone. It was old and she didn't want to cause any more damage. It really wasn't all that noticeable anyway. She turned off the light, crawled into bed and went to sleep.
March 2512:56 AM
Scully woke with a start. She panicked for a moment, unsure of where she was. When reality settled in, she relaxed. *Not again. * It had been weeks since her last bad dream and she had begun to think that they were finally behind her. She closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but found that her eyes didn't want to stay shut. Letting out a sigh, she reached for the phone.
"Mulder."
"Hi, it's me."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just couldn't sleep and you did say if I needed anything...."
"You had anther one, didn't you, Scully?"
"No...yeah...I think so. I can't remember anything about it though. I just woke up feeling anxious and lost and..."
"And you needed to hear a friendly voice. Want to talk about it? Might make you feel better."
"I know, that's why I called."
"Scully, do you want me to come over?"
"No Mulder, it's late, I just needed to know you were there."
"I'm here, Scully; I'll always be here for you."
"I know. Hey, Mulder... I love you."
"I love you, too. Think you can sleep now?"
"Yeah, I think so. 'Night Mulder."
"'Night, Scully."
There was a brief moment of silence while each waited for the other to disconnect.
"Mulder?"
"Yeah Scully?"
"Aren't you going to hang up?"
"I was waiting for you to hang up."
"Mulder, this is silly. Hang up the phone and go back to sleep."
"Can I come over?"
"No."
"Then I'm not hanging up."
"Mulder!"
"It's your choice, Scully, either you hang up first or you let me come over. What's it gonna to be?"
"Don't make me tell Byers on you, Mulder."
Mulder laughed. "Go ahead, I might get that copy of Tribal Mating Rituals of New Guinea I've been searching for."
"So much for that idea. How about Option Four? "
"What's Option Four?"
"Neither one of us hangs up and we both go to sleep."
"Scully, if this is your idea of phone sex...."
Scully snickered. "Mulder."
"What?"
"Shut up and go to sleep."
Mulder smiled and tucked the phone between the back of the couch and his ear. "Guess it's Option Four. 'Night, Scully."
"'Night, Mulder."
Scully tucked the phone between the pillow and her ear and went to sleep.
Mulder listened until he was sure she was asleep, before closing his eyes.
6:15 AM
Scully awoke to the aroma of coffee. She felt the weight of another person on her bed and a pair of lips on her neck. She smiled, but kept her eyes shut. "You hung up."
Mulder pulled away from her neck and caressed her hair. "I woke up with a cramp in my neck and couldn't get back to sleep, so I took a shower and decided to wake you up in person."
"Mmmmm. What time is it?"
"Early, 6:15, we have a good fifteen minutes; more if you don't mind being late," he said, as he lowered his mouth to her neck and began kissing his way down from the back of her ear to the top of her shoulder. When she didn't object, he worked his way back up to her lips. Gently, he kissed her, again and again. He was careful to keep his hands in check this time, hoping that she would make the first move. She placed one hand on the back of his neck, then began to run her fingers through his hair. The other hand made circles in the small of his back. After a time, he felt her hand slowly drift south.
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeep.
*Shit! * Scully reached over to turn off the alarm. They looked at each other, weighing their options. Taking a deep breath, Scully sat up and pushed herself off the bed.
"Time to get up, Mulder." Realizing the opening she'd just left him, she watched as he started to reply. "Don't say it, Mulder, I'm warning you."
Mulder put on his best 'who me?' face and placed his hand on his chest. "Say what, Scully?" he said, as he made a show of adjusting himself.
She stared pointedly at him and raised her eyebrows. He stayed as innocent looking as possible before allowing a look of mock surprise to cross his face. "Agent Scully, I'm shocked! I never realized what a dirty mind you have." He got up and walked toward her. When he was close enough, he reached out to her and pulled her in. "I think I like it," he whispered in her ear.
"Why doesn't that surprise me? Go get a cup of coffee and let me get ready for work," she said, pushing him toward the door. "I'll be ready in a few minutes."
"Sure you don't want any help with those pesky zippers or hooks or whatever fastening device you need to...fasten?"
"Go, Mulder."
With a smile and a kiss, he left the room. Scully closed the door on him, for the second time in the last twelve hours. *It's a good thing it's a workday. * She shook her head. * No it's not, damn it. Why isn't it Saturday? If it were Saturday I'd let him fasten or unfasten anything he wanted.* She sighed and went into the bathroom to get ready for work.
5 PMOffice of the X-Files
Mulder sat at his desk, aimlessly picking up files, leafing through them, then tossing them back on his desk. He pulled up Solitaire on his computer, but only played two games before losing interest in that, too. He almost considered resorting to chucking pencils at the ceiling again, until he realized that most of the ones he had were already up there. Not really feeling like climbing up to pull them down, he sat back in his chair with a sigh. "So, what are we doing tonight, Scully?"
Scully put down the file she was looking at and turned to Mulder. "I don't know about you, Mulder, but I have some errands to run. My kitchen cupboards are bare, I have dry cleaning to pick up and my bookshelves are in need of replenishing. After that, I plan on taking a nice warm shower and curling up with whatever new book strikes my fancy."
"Want some company?"
Scully studied his face. He wasn't leering or making any suggestive body movements. If anything, he looked lonely. "Tell you what, let's stop by your place so you can change first. Then, on the way to my place, we can pick up the dry cleaning and do the grocery shopping. I'll let you put the groceries away while I change, then you can take me out to dinner and the bookstore. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like a plan. You about ready to get out of here?"
"Ready when you are."
Mulder got up from his desk, picked up his jacket and draped it over his arm. Scully picked up her purse and grabbed her jacket off the back of her chair as well. They reached the door together. Mulder turned out the lights before closing and locking the door for the night. He reached out to Scully, placing his hand in its customary spot on the small of her back and guided her to the elevator. Once in the elevator, Mulder put his arms around Scully. Neither spoke until they reached the car. Mulder unlocked the car door and held it open as Scully got in. He stopped before closing the door and leaned in close to her.
"Thanks, Scully."
Ninety minutes later...
Scully hung up the dry cleaning and changed, while Mulder put away the groceries.
"Hey Scully, where should I put the pork rinds?"
She walked into the kitchen and picked up the bag. "I cannot believe I let you talk me into buying those things, Mulder. Pork rinds have absolutely no nutritional value; they're nothing but fat and salt. A crunchy prescription for a heart attack. The bane of the snack industry."
"Aw c'mon, Scully, everyone knows that Twinkies™ are the bane of the snack industry. Pork rinds are a wholesome all-American snack, loved for generations. Admit it, you love them."
"Mulder, I do NOT love pork rinds!"
Mulder opened the bag and took one out. He held it out in front of him and began walking toward her. "Prove it."
"What?"
"You heard me, I said 'prove it.' Come on Scully, just one bite."
Scully folded her arms across her chest and arched her eyebrows at him. Mulder stopped in front of her and waved the pork rind under her nose. He wiggled his eyebrows and smiled. "Not backing down from a challenge, are you Scully? Come on, just one little bite."
"Oh, for crying out loud, give me that."
She grabbed the pork rind out of his hand and popped it in her mouth. *Should have gotten the barbecue ones. * "There, happy now?"
"Very. Now, how about letting me take you out for some real food?"
10 PMScully's apartment
Lightning crashed and thunder roared around them as they raced from the car to the entrance to Scully's apartment. Scully, clutching her keys, ran ahead to unlock the door, while Mulder followed, carrying her purchases tucked safely under his jacket. They hadn't been out an hour when the sky turned dark and heavy with clouds. By the time they had finished dinner, the sky was just starting to drizzle. When they were finally done shopping in Barnes and Noble, the clouds had opened up and were in full dump mode; thunder and lightning followed, as they reached the car. They managed to make it into the apartment just as the power went out in DC.
Scully made her way to the bedroom, where she grabbed a couple of towels and Mulder's emergency clothes. She always kept a change of clothing for him, for those times when he showed up bruised and bloody on her doorstep. They'd come in handy on more than one occasion. Scully used one towel to soak up the drips coming from her hair. She handed Mulder the other towel and clothes, then went in the kitchen to get a flashlight, some candles and matches out of the kitchen drawer. *Let's see him make a snide remark about my drawer, now. *Turning on the flashlight, Scully walked back out to the living room and handed it to Mulder. "Here, take this. You can have the bathroom first. Just hang your wet clothes over the shower rod."
"You sure? You're wetter than I am."
"Just go. I'm going to light a few candles so we're not stumbling around in the dark out here. As soon as you're done, I'll take my turn."
Mulder nodded and went off to change. Scully set up the first candle and lit it. She made her way around the living room, by candlelight, and lit three more. Satisfied that there was sufficient light in the room now, she returned to the kitchen and put the matches back in the drawer. Mulder came out of the bathroom, toweling his still damp hair, and surveyed the room. "Candlelight, how romantic. Agent Scully, are you trying to seduce me?"
Scully grinned, took the flashlight from his hand and went back to get dry. Under her breath she whispered, "Could be, Mulder, could be."
Mulder pretended he hadn't heard, but as soon as the bathroom door clicked shut, he sprang into action. Taking a candle, he went into the kitchen. Once there, he grabbed two wineglasses and the bottle of wine he knew she had in the refrigerator. He spotted a radio sitting on the counter. He turned it on, hoping that it had batteries. The radio came on, softly playing classical music. He tucked it under one arm, picked up the wine and glasses with one hand, the candle with the other and carried them back out to the living room. The candle went back to its original spot on the table. He put everything else on the coffee table. He quickly poured the wine. When he heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, he picked up his glass, sank back into the corner of the couch, closed his eyes and pretended to be lost in the music.
Scully stood in the doorway and watched him. *Now who's trying to seduce whom? * She knew that he was aware of her presence, but played along all the same. He was trying so hard to appear nonchalant, why break the mood? "Mind if I join you?"
Mulder opened his eyes, but didn't sit up. He pointed with his chin at the glass on the table. "I was hoping you would."
Scully sat down on the edge of the couch. She picked up the glass, took a sip, then turned to Mulder. He crooked his finger, giving the 'come here' sign and she responded by slipping back into his arms. They sat there quietly, listening to the radio and the thunder, enjoying the closeness. Sleep was starting to claim her when a loud crash and a crack of lightning hit dangerously close to home. She jumped and almost screamed. Mulder pulled her back and tightened his grip. "I hate it when it hits that close."
Mulder started to respond when he heard the DJ break in for a special news report. "...storm is taking its toll all over the DC area. Most of the city is without electricity and officials don't expect to have power restored until mid-morning. They are asking that you stay off the streets this evening, if at all possible."
"Looks like you're stuck with me tonight, Scully," Mulder whispered in her ear.
"Mmmmm. Maybe someone is trying to tell us something."
Taking that as a sign, Mulder loosened his grip, turned Scully toward him and moved in for a kiss. She put an arm around his neck and held him in place. *Now there's a familiar gesture. Does she think I'm going to pull away? Fat chance, pulling away is your move, Dana. * He resisted the urge to let his hands roam, remembering what happened the last time he tried that little move. His resistance held up for exactly five minutes, then the urge to touch her grew too persistent to ignore. He slid a hand up her side and cupped her breast. *Going bra-less these days, Agent Scully? * When she didn't pull away, he ran his thumb across the nipple. Scully sighed and pushed closer to him. He moved his hand away long enough to slip it under her T-shirt. Now it was Mulder's turn to let out a sigh of contentment. Scully pushed back and before he could protest, she pulled the T-shirt off, tossing it on the floor behind her. She started to move back into his arms, but he held her in place. He wanted a second to look at her before...CRASH!!!! Scully screamed this time and buried her face in Mulder's chest. Mulder held her close until he felt her relax.
"That was quite a 'girlie scream', Agent Scully."
"I'm supposed to have a 'girlie scream', Mulder. I am a girl, in case that slipped your mind."
"I knew I was missing an entry in your case file."
Scully chuckled. Then another flash of lightning and crashing thunder made the floor shake. Scully pulled away and grabbed her T-shirt. "I'm sorry, Mulder; I'm just too jumpy tonight. Maybe I should just try to sleep through this. Besides, we do have to go to work in a few hours." She put her shirt on. "I think the next time, we start something, maybe we should allow for more time."
*Next time. * Mulder liked the sound of those two little words. "Scully, tomorrow's Friday..."
Scully looked at him and smiled. "So it is, Mulder, so it is."
She got up, walked into the bedroom, coming back with a pillow and blanket in her arms. Handing them to him, she leaned over and gave him a kiss. He held the items and watched her walk back to her bedroom. He noticed that she'd left the door open. *Was that an invitation after all? * He stared at the door until he heard her get into bed. *Better stay put, she said she wanted more time. Just you wait, Scully, just you wait. I think tomorrow's going to be a very good day. *
Scully's apartment2:45 AM
Light. Blinding light everywhere. Cold metal table. Can't move. Trying, every movement brings pain. Noises. Voices? Voices. Coming from behind the light. Who's there? What do you want? Body held in place. Why are you doing this? Needle coming down. Pain. Get away from the pain. Can't move. Can't get away. Stop! Please! What do you want? No, no, no. MULDEEEERRR!!!
Mulder woke with a start. He heard the screams coming from Scully's room and bolted off the couch to reach her. She was asleep and having a violent nightmare. He crawled into bed with her and tried to hold her still. She fought back, screaming and clawing at him, leaving an ugly scratch on his arm.
"Stop, stop! Let me go! MULDER, HELP ME!"
He grabbed her arms and yelled. "Scully, I'm here, I'm here. Wake up. Come on, Scully, wake up!!!"
He continued calling her name until she stopped struggling. He tried holding her again. She tensed, but relaxed as she started to come back to reality. She opened her eyes. She was safe; Mulder had gotten her out of that place.
"You OK now, Scully?"
She nodded her head. "I'm fine, Mulder. It was just a nightmare."
"Some nightmare! You always get violent when you're having 'just a nightmare'?"
Scully looked up at him, questioning. He looked at the blood streaming down his arm. She followed his eyes, then reached out to touch the scratch. "I did this? Oh God, Mulder, I'm sorry. Let me clean that up for you."
She got up to get cotton, hydrogen peroxide and a bandage from the bathroom. While she was cleaning out the scratch, Mulder asked her about the dream. She was reluctant to talk about it.
"Scully, this is the second one in two days; I think you need to talk about it."
"I don't remember the one from last night. I told you that already."
"But you do remember this one. Come on Scully, talk to me."
She didn't want to talk about it. Not now, not ever, but she knew he was right. Penny Northern had also encouraged her to talk, to fight, to remember in order to survive. Mulder was the last person she wanted to tell, but the only one she completely trusted. She put down the cotton and hydrogen peroxide and applied the bandage to his arm. Keeping her head down, she began. "I was dreaming about them and the tests. I was being held down. I couldn't move, couldn't get away from the needle pushing into my abdomen. It hurt. All I wanted was to get out of there, for you to come and take me away from them." Scully was crying now and absentmindedly rubbing her stomach. She wanted to look at him, but couldn't make herself; afraid of his reaction.
Mulder lifted her chin, forcing her to face him. Tears were in his eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't there, Scully. I know I let you down. I tried to find you; I searched everywhere I could come up with. I knew you were out there somewhere. I never gave up. You know I never gave up, don't you?"
"You didn't let me down, Mulder. There wasn't anything you could have done to stop it. I know that, I knew that at the time. I knew you'd keep looking for me and that gave me the strength to keep going. You were there when I was returned, fighting to find out what had happened to me. You were there after I woke up, bearing that silly video and my cross. You never let me down, Mulder, not for a second."
They sat quietly, staring at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to speak, neither one knowing what to say. Mulder pulled Scully close and put his head on her pillow. She moved as far into his arms as she could, listening to the beat of his heart. Before too much time passed, both were asleep.
Brendan's Book Nook9 AM
The next round of estate sales was coming up quickly and there were still a few boxes of books to categorize and shelve. Brendan picked up the nearest one and started sifting through the goodies inside. Not too much in the way of new or unusual offerings, but steady sellers nonetheless.
In the space of the next half-hour, he was able to dispose of all but one box. On the surface, this one looked pretty much like all the others, a couple of Grishams and a few gardening books were the first items he pulled out. As he dug deeper, the contents began to take on more of a theme. Each book related, in some way, to dreams; lucid dreaming, dream interpretation, symbolism of dreams, folklore about dreams, etc. There were a few books on his shelves related to dreams already, but putting these out would require making a whole subject heading.
In the bottom of the box he found a small book with no title. Nothing fancy, just a simple cloth-bound blank book, that can be had for a few bucks at almost any bookstore. Curious to see what was inside, Brendan picked up the book and started reading. The book was a dream diary. Fascinated, he read, completely missing his 10 AM opening time. If it hadn't been for the insistent knocking of a steady customer, he might have forgotten to open at all.
The diary chronicled over a year's worth of dreams, from the light-hearted to the bizarre. When he reached the halfway point, November of the past year, things began to change. The writer had acquired a dream catcher and was experimenting to see if the legends were true; could it really filter away bad dreams? He gave a detailed description of his dream catcher. Brendan recognized it as the very one that he had sold to those three odd gentlemen a few days earlier. Well, the tall one was OK, not quite a regular customer, but he did stop in from time to time. The other two, well, they were odd, especially that little, dumpy guy with the three days growth of stubble.
The entries stayed the same for most of the month of November. On the 27th, an entry note was made on the dream catcher. A strand had broken near a bead and an attempt made to fix it. Two days later, November 29th, the entries began to change. The first dream was a mild nightmare, nothing extraordinary. In fact, the writer could hardly remember any details. Each night's dream became more and more frightening. The writing changed from small, beautifully handwritten passages to hurried, scrawl-like entries. By the end of December, the diary was almost illegible. Toward the end, what little Brendan could make out, seemed to talk, not of dreams, but of the dream catcher. The writer called it evil, possessed. Brendan closed the book. Ordinarily, he wouldn't keep something like a diary, but this one gave him the creeps and, since he knew the new owner of the dream catcher, he felt an obligation to pass the diary on to him. He put the book on a shelf under the cash register for safekeeping.
11:18 AM
Offices of the X-Files
Mulder stomped back into the office and slammed a handful of files down on his desk. He knew Skinner calling him upstairs was a bad thing. Pulling his tie loose, he continued to stomp his way around the desk and dropped heavily into his chair. Scully watched in silence, waiting for an opening. Mulder settled back in the chair with a harumph and stared at her.
"Are you going to tell me what's wrong, Mulder, or do we have to play Twenty Questions?"
He reached for the files and tossed them to her. She caught them before they hit the table and leafed through the papers inside.
"According to this, there have been a series of murders committed in the Mark Twain National Forest in Missouri. Tragic situation, but why do you have the case histories? Is there an x-file in here?"
"No, just a potential serial killer loose in the forest."
"That doesn't explain why you have the files, Mulder. This is the kind of the thing VC is usually called in on, not us."
"Well Scully, here's the problem," Mulder said, as he started to rock in his chair. The sheriff in Potosi, that's the town where the first victim lived, decided that he needed a little help from the FBI. Seems Sheriff Lee Dryden and Reggie were best buddies back in the good old days, so when he decided to call in the FBI, he asked specifically for me. Said that Reggie always told him that I was the best in the business and if Reggie said it, it must be true."
"OK, we go to Potosi and help them out. What's the problem?"
"Not we, Scully, me. Skinner doesn't see the point in sending two agents out on this one."
Scully's expression changed from bewilderment to disappointment as the full meaning of those words hit home. "Oh. How long is Skinner sending you out there for?"
"For now, just through the weekend. They're asking me to take a look at the crime scenes and put together a profile. If all goes well, I should be back on Monday."
"When do you leave?"
"My plane leaves at 1:15. I should arrive in St. Louis around 3:45. Then I get to drive another two hours or so, to beautiful downtown Potosi, where I'll be staying at the Mark Twain Motor Lodge." Mulder leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk, head bowed. Scully walked over and placed her hand on his head. He looked up and gave her a half-smile. "This isn't exactly how I envisioned spending this weekend."
"Me either, Mulder." She bent down and lightly kissed the top of his head. "Come on, we need to get you packed and out to the airport."
4:47 PM
Scully paced the basement floor. After helping Mulder pack, they'd gone to the airport for a quick lunch and an even quicker goodbye. She couldn't even kiss him before he left; the airport was too public and neither was willing to take the chance of being seen by the wrong people. When she first got back to the office, she tried to work. That failed miserably. Finally, around 2:50, she decided to do a little housekeeping. Starting with her corner of the office, she sorted through old papers, dividing them into two piles, file and shred. Mulder believed in shredding everything, right down to stray gum wrappers. After almost two hours of filing and shredding, the office started to look like it was inhabited by Felix Unger, not Oscar Madison. *Or is that Oscar the Grouch? * She started humming "I Love Trash" as she shredded the final pieces of paper. *Funny how the songs from Sesame Street come back to you at the strangest times. * That task completed, she sat in Mulder's chair, where she made the mistake of looking up. Stuck in the ceiling were over a dozen pencils. *No wonder I can never find a pencil in this place! * Shaking her head, she climbed up on the desk and began plucking the pencils out of the ceiling tile. When she was finished, she put two in his desk and put the rest in a pencil cup on her side of the office. She looked at her watch. It wasn't quite quitting time, but she decided to call it a day anyway.