Title: Something Rational
by Raven
Summary: Short story. Takes place during the stakeout scene of Tooms, from the first season. Scully's POV. She thinks about her identity while talking with Mulder. Slightly implied MSR.
Rating: PG
Warnings: No Noromos.
Spoilers: Tooms
Archive: Please do. Tell me first, I'll say yes. (if you want it)
Disclaimer: X-files and all characters, logos, whatever belong to Chris Carter, who should let Zab write for the series, and Fox Network TV. I claim no rights to them.
This story is copyright 2001 by Raven. Don't reproduce or archive without my permission.
Feedback: PoisonLollyPop@aol.com. Greatly appreciated.
Notes: Title and some ideas inspired by Alanis Morissette's song "Head Over Feet."
I know, I'm very fond of doing things from Scully's point of view. It's easier, because I haven't seen the entire series (though I'm up to season four in transcripts) and Scully, I think, is a very profound character and I like probing in her head. I mean no offense. Once I get fully versed in the X-files, maybe I'll try a more in-depth story.
This story's dedicated to Leyla Harrison, one of the most talented fanfiction authors I've ever had the luck to come across, and whose work will remain above my level of writing and many others for all time.
Only after her death did she gain immortality on television, portrayed by a young girl who made her name into a character as dedicated to Mulder and Scully as Leyla herself was.
God rest your soul, Leyla. Your talent will live forever in so many hearts.
May 9, 2001
******
"You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now."
~Head Over Feet, Alanis Morissette
******
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something Rational
by Raven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The stakeout. I could kill Tooms for not showing all day and putting Mulder through this agony. I've only been in the car for ten minutes and I'm already restive, wanting to move around. How can he stand it?
"... then I'll stay here," I offer, making a futile attempt to relieve him of his burden. "You go home."
I hear the deepness in his sigh and know what's coming before he speaks. Bad news. Accompanied with guilt.
"They're out to put an end to the X-files, Scully. I don't know why, but any excuse will do. Now I don't really care about my record, but you'd be in trouble just sitting in this car." He turns to me, eyes alight with a caring glow. "And I'd hate to see you carry an official reprimand in your career file because of me."
He does feel responsible for me. But not quite in the way I thought. Not patronizing, showing a fatherly instict toward me. Just concern. Like friends.
His gaze is intense, too intense for just plain friends. ~Best friends,~ I remind myself, and look down to my feet, softly speaking the word I'd never dared to say before. "Fox..."
He surprises me by laughing. I tilt my head upward and see genuine amusement on his face. "And I... I even made my parents call me Mulder." Now he turns away, staring out the windshield with lost memories apparent on his face. "Mulder," he repeats, almost unconsciously. A name he's been branded with to distance himself from the world.
I won't be distanced. I refuse.
I look to him again, debating for only a moment on whether to say the words that I truly mean. "Mulder, I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you," I say, making sure to keep my gaze level. My voice is quiet and betrays more emotion than I meant to let through.
He looks at me, apparently a little shocked. Lips parted slightly, hazel eyes glinting in the streetlight that pours through the windows. I feel my senses go haywire for no reason. Maybe it's this environment, or the smell of the air.... but my judgement is breaking down.
Suddenly I'm flooded with thoughts, descriptions.... Mrs. Spooky... the Ice Queen... the Tragedy's partner...... down-to-earth, practical Dana Scully. Enigmatic Dr. Scully. Rational Agent Scully.
And just Scully.
Revelations in the course of a split-second. Why *am* I like this? So practical, scientific.... I never wanted something rational. But it's all I can reach, so I hold onto it... that doesn't mean I want it.
My head snaps back to the current scenario. Mulder's face breaks into a playful smile. He motions toward the bagged meal I brought him, sitting crumpled by my feet.
"If there's an iced tea in that bag..." he jokes, "it could be love."
His words strike deeper in me than a simple quip would, even though they were meant to be light. Catching his meaning, I reach into the brown sack and extract a soda bottle, holding it up so the streetlights catch the label.
"Must be fate, Mulder," I say, smirking to hide my regret. "Root beer."
He gives a fake half-sigh.
"You're delirious," I remark, though whether it's to him or to myself I can't be sure. Maybe both. To him, I say, "Go home and get some sleep."
He hands me his sandwich after that, makes some mention about a late-night talk show that I should watch. I barely hear, but manage to reply anyway. I smile at him at leave his car, moving toward my own to pick up where he left off. As he drives away, I look at the liverwurst slapped on bread. Only one bite taken.
Sighing, I wonder what happened back there. Was I losing my mind? Do I still have it now? I can't answer. All these rational thoughts proceed through, assuring me it was only temporary, giving me a scientific explanation for what I experienced.
I can't help it. I've held onto this logical thinking for so long that I don't know if I can pry my fingers from it to grasp Mulder's belief. I realize that he could be my lifesaver, if I only accept as fact what he has already.
Closing my eyes, I toss the sandwich on the seat next to me. It's true, I never wanted something rational. But for now, it's all I can acquire.
by Raven
Summary: Short story. Takes place during the stakeout scene of Tooms, from the first season. Scully's POV. She thinks about her identity while talking with Mulder. Slightly implied MSR.
Rating: PG
Warnings: No Noromos.
Spoilers: Tooms
Archive: Please do. Tell me first, I'll say yes. (if you want it)
Disclaimer: X-files and all characters, logos, whatever belong to Chris Carter, who should let Zab write for the series, and Fox Network TV. I claim no rights to them.
This story is copyright 2001 by Raven. Don't reproduce or archive without my permission.
Feedback: PoisonLollyPop@aol.com. Greatly appreciated.
Notes: Title and some ideas inspired by Alanis Morissette's song "Head Over Feet."
I know, I'm very fond of doing things from Scully's point of view. It's easier, because I haven't seen the entire series (though I'm up to season four in transcripts) and Scully, I think, is a very profound character and I like probing in her head. I mean no offense. Once I get fully versed in the X-files, maybe I'll try a more in-depth story.
This story's dedicated to Leyla Harrison, one of the most talented fanfiction authors I've ever had the luck to come across, and whose work will remain above my level of writing and many others for all time.
Only after her death did she gain immortality on television, portrayed by a young girl who made her name into a character as dedicated to Mulder and Scully as Leyla herself was.
God rest your soul, Leyla. Your talent will live forever in so many hearts.
May 9, 2001
******
"You're the best listener that I've ever met
You're my best friend
Best friend with benefits
What took me so long
I've never felt this healthy before
I've never wanted something rational
I am aware now."
~Head Over Feet, Alanis Morissette
******
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Something Rational
by Raven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The stakeout. I could kill Tooms for not showing all day and putting Mulder through this agony. I've only been in the car for ten minutes and I'm already restive, wanting to move around. How can he stand it?
"... then I'll stay here," I offer, making a futile attempt to relieve him of his burden. "You go home."
I hear the deepness in his sigh and know what's coming before he speaks. Bad news. Accompanied with guilt.
"They're out to put an end to the X-files, Scully. I don't know why, but any excuse will do. Now I don't really care about my record, but you'd be in trouble just sitting in this car." He turns to me, eyes alight with a caring glow. "And I'd hate to see you carry an official reprimand in your career file because of me."
He does feel responsible for me. But not quite in the way I thought. Not patronizing, showing a fatherly instict toward me. Just concern. Like friends.
His gaze is intense, too intense for just plain friends. ~Best friends,~ I remind myself, and look down to my feet, softly speaking the word I'd never dared to say before. "Fox..."
He surprises me by laughing. I tilt my head upward and see genuine amusement on his face. "And I... I even made my parents call me Mulder." Now he turns away, staring out the windshield with lost memories apparent on his face. "Mulder," he repeats, almost unconsciously. A name he's been branded with to distance himself from the world.
I won't be distanced. I refuse.
I look to him again, debating for only a moment on whether to say the words that I truly mean. "Mulder, I wouldn't put myself on the line for anybody but you," I say, making sure to keep my gaze level. My voice is quiet and betrays more emotion than I meant to let through.
He looks at me, apparently a little shocked. Lips parted slightly, hazel eyes glinting in the streetlight that pours through the windows. I feel my senses go haywire for no reason. Maybe it's this environment, or the smell of the air.... but my judgement is breaking down.
Suddenly I'm flooded with thoughts, descriptions.... Mrs. Spooky... the Ice Queen... the Tragedy's partner...... down-to-earth, practical Dana Scully. Enigmatic Dr. Scully. Rational Agent Scully.
And just Scully.
Revelations in the course of a split-second. Why *am* I like this? So practical, scientific.... I never wanted something rational. But it's all I can reach, so I hold onto it... that doesn't mean I want it.
My head snaps back to the current scenario. Mulder's face breaks into a playful smile. He motions toward the bagged meal I brought him, sitting crumpled by my feet.
"If there's an iced tea in that bag..." he jokes, "it could be love."
His words strike deeper in me than a simple quip would, even though they were meant to be light. Catching his meaning, I reach into the brown sack and extract a soda bottle, holding it up so the streetlights catch the label.
"Must be fate, Mulder," I say, smirking to hide my regret. "Root beer."
He gives a fake half-sigh.
"You're delirious," I remark, though whether it's to him or to myself I can't be sure. Maybe both. To him, I say, "Go home and get some sleep."
He hands me his sandwich after that, makes some mention about a late-night talk show that I should watch. I barely hear, but manage to reply anyway. I smile at him at leave his car, moving toward my own to pick up where he left off. As he drives away, I look at the liverwurst slapped on bread. Only one bite taken.
Sighing, I wonder what happened back there. Was I losing my mind? Do I still have it now? I can't answer. All these rational thoughts proceed through, assuring me it was only temporary, giving me a scientific explanation for what I experienced.
I can't help it. I've held onto this logical thinking for so long that I don't know if I can pry my fingers from it to grasp Mulder's belief. I realize that he could be my lifesaver, if I only accept as fact what he has already.
Closing my eyes, I toss the sandwich on the seat next to me. It's true, I never wanted something rational. But for now, it's all I can acquire.