All Characters copyright of TenThirteen Productions and Chris Carter. No infringement intended on any part...I like being poor, really...
Locked Doorsby Sheryl Martin
Dana Scully sighed as she pulled up to the curb by the apartment building. She had tried to avoid this, but it just couldnÕt be put off any more... Slamming the car door, she headed for the front, clutching the folder in one hand.
Fox Mulder took a deep swallow of the iced tea, putting the bottle back down by the sofa as he reached for the tv control. It was Saturday; it was playoff season; it was a nice day to just lie back and... The pounding at the front door startled him. Rolling off the sofa, he peered through the viewer.
ÒScully?Ó He opened the door, scratching his chest under the football jersey. She stomped in, ignoring him.
ÒMulder, you didnÕt put in the requisition forms for the expense vouchers for that last trip.Ó She let out her breath slowly, trying to calm down. ÒMy credit card just exploded. TheyÕre about to cut me off; and you knew I needed that paperwork done by Friday...Ó Her eyes travelled down his jersey to his grey sweatpants to his bare feet. Pulling herself back mentally with a jolt, she reminded herself that she was supposed to be mad...
ÒIÕm sorry... I guess I just forgot.Ó Fox held his hands open. ÒHey, IÕll do it Monday. Promise.Ó
ÒI brought over the forms now. If you go over them with me right now I can drop them off for the midnight courier and get the bank to calm down.Ó Tugging off her trench coat, she plopped herself down on the couch and opened the folder. ÒWell?Ó
Fox grinned. ÒI guess I donÕt really have a choice...Ó Reaching for the drink, he noticed the tattered and torn FBI Academy sweatshirt she was wearing over a pair of loose jeans. ÒFrom the good old days?Ó
ÒNot that old, Mulder. YouÕve only got a few years up on me.Ó She smiled. ÒSo where are those forms?Ó
ÒAh...Ó His eyes darted around the apartment. ÒMaybe the closet...Ó He opened the large walk-in closet, peering inside. Getting to her feet, Dana strode over to view the situation.
The shelves were stacked high with boxes and books; loose ties and shirts draped over the hangers and spread on the floor amid old papers and videotapes. He frowned, reaching for a box on the top shelf.
ÒMaybe here...Ó Flipping the lid off, he shook his head. ÒNope. Past copies of The Lone Gunmen.Ó
ÒThis is disgusting.Ó Dana stepped inside the disaster zone, putting her hands on her hips. ÒYou canÕt seriously expect me to believe this is how you file your receipts and paperwork.Ó
Fox took a step back, outside the closet. ÒWell...Ó A malicious grin crept across his face. ÒYou find it then.Ó With a swift motion he closed the door and flicked the light switch off, plunging her into darkness.
Chuckling loudly, he listened for her to start yelling... screaming... breathing..? He put his ear to the door, a frown on his face. God, maybe she was scared of the dark... HeÕd never even thought of it...
Opening the door slowly, he looked inside. ÒScully?Ó A hand shot out, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him inside into the darkness. The door swung shut behind him.
ÒOh, thatÕs just great.Ó He listened to her laugh. ÒHere I was worried about you being afraid of the dark.Ó
ÒActually, I love the dark.Ó She shuffled her feet, feeling the papers rustle under them. Dana could sense him nearby; the total blackness of the room all around them.
ÒGood.Ó Fox sighed. ÒBecause my closet door is self-locking.Ó He heard her turn quickly and reach for the non-existent doorknob. ÒRight. WeÕre locked in.Ó
ÒYouÕre kidding.Ó She stood silently for a minute. ÒWho the hell has a lock on their closet?Ó
ÒI do.Ó A smile came to his lips as he began to laugh. ÒSo... what do you want to do?Ó
ÒGet out of here.Ó She pushed against the door futilely.
ÒScully, IÕm so disappointed.Ó Fox felt the wall behind him, sliding down to sit on a pile of clothing. ÒYou are afraid of the dark.Ó
ÒNo.Ó She scoffed. ÒI just donÕt want to spend all day stuck with you in this closet.Ó
ÒWell, I can do something about that...Ó Dana turned towards his voice.
ÒYou better.Ó She threatened. ÒMulder... IÕm serious.Ó
She heard him dig around through the boxes on the floor; the metal scraping of a grate being revealed. ÒWhat, you learnt a trick from Tooms?Ó
ÒI wish. The vent leads to my landlordÕs apartment. They all do from this apartment. HeÕs right below me... Hello?Ó Fox yelled down the metal vent.
ÒHello?Ó The elderly voice echoed back up.
ÒMr. Kensington? ItÕs Mulder... IÕve accidentally gotten myself stuck in my closet again... can you come up and open the door?Ó
ÒItÕs his wife... heÕs not home from shopping yet, but IÕll send him right up. Mulder, you have to stop doing that...Ó The voice trailed off as he replaced the vent.
ÒAgain?Ó Scully reached out a hand towards his voice. A hand grabbed hers, leading her over to where he was sitting.
ÒIÕve done this before.Ó He muttered. ÒKeep planning to get the lock changed.Ó
Dana began to laugh, then suddenly stumbled over a pair of shoes. Falling forward, she found herself in his arms, her face pressed against his chest as she caught her breath.
ÒYou alright?Ó His whispered question ran over her body.
ÒAh... sure.Ó Pulling away, she sat down beside him. ÒSo why canÕt she come up?Ó
ÒSheÕs in a wheelchair.Ó His hands reached behind her, making Dana jump until she realised he was searching the piles for something. ÒHere...Ó A flashlight was pressed into her side. Turning it on, she pointed it up at the ceiling, illuminating the closet.
ÒYou do get stuck in here often.Ó The dim light bounced off the walls, giving everything an eerie glow. He smiled.
ÒAlways prepared.Ó Fox dug into a box. ÒSo, what do you want to read?Ó
ÒHow long are we going to be here?Ó Visions of starving to death filled her eyes.
ÒNo idea. Not too long, hopefully.Ó He flipped open a thick psychology book.
ÒWhat does that mean?Ó Dana demanded.
ÒHey, youÕre the one who came in here like gangbusters...Ó
ÒAnd youÕre the one who didnÕt do your job!Ó She turned the light off, just to spite him.
ÒTurn that back on, Scully.Ó
ÒNo.Ó She put it behind her. ÒIf I have to be miserable, so can you.Ó
ÒScully...Ó His voice took on a threatening tone. ÒTurn the light on.Ó
ÒNo.Ó
ÒDonÕt make me...Ó
ÒOh, like IÕm supposed to be scared now?Ó Dana laughed. ÒMulder, IÕve been scared by the best and you donÕt even make the top fifty...Ó The sentence trailed off as she felt him rummaging around her feet. ÒMulder...Ó
Getting to his hands and knees, he inched towards her, feeling for the flashlight. His hand slipped on a pile of magazines, sending him pitching to the floor... except for the lap in his way.
ÒMulder...Ó Dana reached down, pulling him up. ÒAre you okay?Ó Her hands ran over his face and shoulders, searching for any obvious cuts.
ÒIÕm fine.Ó He whispered, very aware of their proximity to each other. The faint scent of her perfume filled his mind, sending him spinning in the darkness. ÒI just donÕt like being in the dark...Ó
Dana reached behind her for the light, feeling guilty. Picking it up, she pressed it into his hands, feeling the sweat on his palms. Slowly she ran her hand up to his face, holding his cheek for a second before pulling away.
Fox pointed the light at the ceiling again, turning it on. The dim light sputtered for a second, then died. Smashing it on the floor, he tried it again, seeing the dead batteries give up the last charge. As the bulb went out, he sighed.
ÒGreat.Ó Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his heart. ÒNow IÕm in trouble.Ó
ÒDo you have another flashlight in here?Ó She asked. ÒAfter all, weÕve lost so many of the BureauÕs...Ó
ÒNo.Ó His pained reply echoed around the walls. ÒAnd I do hate this.Ó
ÒI didnÕt know you had a problem with the dark.Ó Dana whispered.
ÒI donÕt.Ó He weakly smiled, unable to see her in the dark. ÒItÕs just... when I was younger I used to hide in the closet and read, to get some privacy from Sam and my parents. It just makes me remember how much time I lost...Ó His voice trailed off.
Reaching out blindly, Dana put her hands on his shoulders. He had turned away from her, facing the door as he knelt. Lightly tugging him backwards, she pulled him onto her lap; wrapping her arms around him protectively.
ÒIÕm sorry I hid the flashlight.Ó She didnÕt know what to say.
ÒIÕm sorry I pushed you in here.Ó He chuckled, feeling her soft breath on the top of his head. ÒAnd for not doing the paperwork.Ó
ÒWell, if I go bankrupt, IÕll just have to get Frohike to break into the bankÕs computer systems and wire me a whole new line of credit.Ó
Fox laughed. ÒHe would, you know. For you, anything.Ó
ÒThatÕs what scares me. And the price heÕd ask...Ó She replied. Her left hand began to stroke his hair, feeling the trembling under her touch begin to subside.
He swallowed. ÒAnd the Redskins game just started a few minutes ago.Ó Closing his eyes, he leaned back into her arms. ÒScully...Ó
ÒHmm?Ó
ÒAh...Ó His nerve faltered. ÒWhat receipts do you need?Ó He felt her smile behind him.
ÒLetÕs see...Ó
*******************
The door opened, making them blink at the bright daylight. An elderly gentleman stood there, shaking his head at the pair.
ÒYou have to get this thing changed.Ó He admonished Mulder, who was getting to his feet. ÒIÕm not coming up next time.Ó He nodded to Scully, then left the apartment in a huff. Turning around, Fox offered his hand to Dana, pulling her up to face him. They stood there for a minute, too close and yet too far from each other...
Fox licked his lips. ÒWell, if I have to find those receipts, you might as well stay for dinner at this point... IÕll go over with you and we can catch the midnight courier.Ó
Dana smiled. ÒAnd you will get this door fixed, right?Ó
He sheepishly nodded. ÒI guess so.Ó Taking a few steps towards the couch, he grimaced. ÒOh, man... 14-0... and itÕs almost over...Ó Dana laughed, securely propping the door open with a box and wedging magazines in the doorframe.
ÒCome over here and letÕs get this done. Work before pleasure.Ó Her eyes twinkled at him. Grinning widely, he sighed.
ÒYes, she-who-must-be-obeyed...Ó
ÒAnd donÕt you forget it...Ó
************************************"If you will practice being fictional for a while, you will understand that fictional characters are sometimes more real than people with bodies and heartbeats."Richard Bach -- "Illusions"