Comments, complaints and just plain talk to sheryl_martin@tvo.org
Summary: Scully ponders a strange coincidence in some of their cases...Spoilers: Yes. (Second and Third Season, within limits...)
Bubblesby Sheryl Martin
Unlocking the front door quietly; Dana Scully slipped into the dark apartmentwith a deep sigh. Kicking her shoes off almost the second she touched thewooden floor, she flicked the lights on and looked around the room.
The red light flashed on her answering machine. Ignoring it, she strode by toput the kettle on for some instant coffee. It wasn't until she had added thecream to the steaming mug and settled down on the couch that she tapped thebutton on the waiting machine.
"Dana, it's your mother..." She smiled at the familiar voice, wondering whythe identification was needed. "I was wondering if you wanted to come overfor dinner Saturday night - oh, and maybe bring Fox along."
"Mulder, Mom... he likes to be called Mulder." She chuckled in response.
"Anyway, let me know either way. Take care."
The tape beeped.
"It's Mulder - I sent you some files via email. Let me know what you think."She heard the humour in his voice. "You'll find them... interesting..."
Sipping the coffee, she smiled. "Not if I don't get to it tonight..."
The steam rose from the hot water lapping at the edge of the tub; the thickfragrant bubbles rolling over the edge to land in fat, wet puddles on thefloor. With a deep sigh she lowered herself into the sweet-smelling water andlaid her head back on the cold porcelain.
Funny.
This had been the same bathroom Tooms had tried to do some emergency surgeryon her; the same tub that Mulder had managed to handcuff him to. Back whenshe wasn't sure what exactly to make of the strange cases she had beenassigned to. Much less the partner.
And that fat-sucking man... well, the creature that had attacked her. True,he had almost killed her too in a bathroom, but he'd been shot just in time.Good thing too - she preferred the traditional way of losing weight. With awince she pinched a small roll of fat around her midsection. Too much junkfood, Dana... too many nights eating out of the chocolate bar bins. Too manynights on the road in strange hotels.
And that fantastic story Mulder had tried to feed her about the guy beingkilled by cockroaches while sitting in the men's washroom. Which she haddisproved easily with the truth. Though she wondered if Mulder had braincramps like that every once in a while.
Lifting a dense handful of bubbles close to her face, she blew them off herhand and across the tub. And those dammed rats running from the cats in thebasement of the museum. She shuddered, sending ripples across the water.
The phone rang. For a second she contemplated not answering it, then realisedthat if it were Mulder, he'd be on the way over if she didn't.
"Scully..."
"So, what did you think of the files?"
"I haven't looked at them yet, Mulder." She let the water trickle off herhand. "I'm relaxing in a large bubble bath right now and don't want to thinkabout the X Files for a few hours."
"Oh." He paused. "Want company?"
"The tub's not big enough for two." The edges of her mouth curled up at theverbal teasing.
"Well, that's vertically... now, horizontally..."
Dana laughed. "Mulder, I'll see you at work tomorrow. And promise, I'll getto the information after I get out of the tub."
"Sure you don't want me to come over and scrub your back? Front? Get you outa whole lot faster..."
"Sure you just want to get me back to work sooner? Or are you coming ontome?"
"Scully, I'm insulted." He tried to sound pained, but failed. "Are youinsinuating that I see you as a sexual object instead of the professional FBIagent I have assigned to me as my partner?" He paused again. "Now, if youasked Frohike..."
"Good Night, Mulder." Putting the phone back down on the cold floor, sheshook her head with a grin. That man. Who else would be able to put up withhim?
Good question. And sometimes the answer both annoyed and pleased her.
The water was beginning to get cold; the last of the bubbles disappearinginto the air as she reached for the plug. Enough of the daydreaming - time toget back to the real world.
Well, as real as it ever got for them.
***************"You've become a world-class hopeless romantic.""Not hopeless... hopeful. A world-class hopeful romantic."Joan Wilder -- Romancing The Stone