This is the first fanfic that I've felt confident enough to post… so review, but be nice about it if you have criticisms, s'il vouz plait
Nothing belongs to me. No characters, No Money…. Basically just my imagination. So please don't sue me – I'm a poor college student so can't afford it anyways.
The windshield wipers were the only sound in the car, aside from the occasional clatter of the keys clanging against each other above his knee. The weather matched her mood: gloomy and soaking wet. It was somehow calming to see the raindrops slam against the windows. Perhaps Mother Nature was on her same page.
She knew he could feel that something was not right. Perhaps he was feeling it too. She was thankful, however, for his lack of words: she would tell him in her own good time if she wanted to express her emotions. For a moment, she closed her eyes and just listened to the rain. The sound could be compared to mini golf balls hitting the roof of the top of a tin shed. For a split second she imagined standing outside in a hailstorm, the crystalline rocks dissolving her into nothingness.
She was brought back to the present moment by a hand on her knee. She opened her eyes and noted that they were at a stoplight. She stole a glance to her left, but it was apparent that his focus was not moving from straight ahead. Perhaps it had become second nature to always be connected somehow: fingers intertwined, hand on her back, arm in arm, but in this instance, she noticed. And somehow, it made all the difference in the world.
"Mulder," she broke the silence in barely a whisper, but it was like lightning had struck. He responded by slightly tightening his hand on her knee as he began to cruise through the intersection with the change of the light. "Do you ever think back on what you wanted your life to be when you were young?"
"What, like what my big beautiful wedding would be like and the huge mansion my wealthy husband would provide for me?" He stole a quick glance after his statement and noted her lack of response. "Not really, honestly. I learned pretty quickly that the NFL was out of the question and started burying my nose in books instead."
"Hmm," she hummed and resumed her analysis of the window to her right.
"Are you caught in this reflection you so subtly brought up?" he asked and caught her hand in his, turning the left-hand blinker on. "You're never this quiet. What's on your mind?" he asked in a slightly softer voice.
"All little girls have expectations that 98% of the time cannot be fulfilled. I wonder why. It seems like every girl has a dream of her future. Why not be happy as an innocent child?" She accepted his hand, as he had begun to massage her own with his thumb.
"I have a feeling that is not where you were going with this blast from the past." He removed his hand as he put the car in park in front of the house, and turned towards her. "Penny for your thoughts?" he tapped her arm with his forefinger.
"We're wasting gas sitting in the car, right in front of our house, when it is nearly four dollars a gallon." She unbuckled her seatbelt and picked up her umbrella.
"Ever the logical one," he brought his hand behind her head and brought her face to his. "Will you talk to me if I make you some Hot Chocolate a-la-Mulder?" he whispered before gracing her lips with his presence.
"Mmm," she responded in kind, embracing the kiss and then pulling back. "That is manipulation," as she leaned in for one more kiss.
"It's coincidence, actually. I just give in to my urges and it just so happened to be after you brought up the subject. Remember that: YOU brought up the subject." He turned the lights off and removed the key from the ignition.
After racing inside, they both shed their coats. "I'll change into something more comfortable while you make the hot chocolate," she called as she climbed the stairs.
"Is that your final answer!" he yelled as he crumpled up some newspapers and threw them into the fireplace, arranging them under the wood he'd set up that morning. With no response, he set the fire and then moved into the kitchen. He wondered what was on her mind, but knew that no matter how much he probed, she would only tell her what she was comfortable with. After all these years, her barriers had definitely broken down significantly, but there were still things she preferred not to divulge. She never had been one to be found in an emotional state, but he could always feel when those times were. Occasionally he'd find out only after her mini-breakdown, what had caused her emotional havoc.
As he poured the milk in the pot on the stove, she came through the side door into the kitchen, clad in her flannel pajamas and her purple satin slippers.
"So, what's up doc?" He turned the burner to medium and leaned on the stove looking towards her.
She glanced down at the milk in the pot. She sighed. "I guess… I wonder where he is right now," she said quietly, seemingly obsessed with the look of the milk in the pot.
He nodded and looked up to the window above the stove. "Well, I most certainly hope he's inside if it's like this wherever he is," he said and dropped the blinds. She looked up at him as he had taken over staring at the pot.
"I wonder what he looks like," she whispered, and he turned towards her. "I wonder… I wonder how tall he is, what color his eyes are, and what he's good at in school. I wonder what his favorite cartoon is and what his room is decorated like," she continued. "I know it's useless, but-"
"You have a right, we have a right, to have these questions. But we can't change the situation." He turned to the cupboard and brought out the chocolate mix. She studied his face – generally, it was she who refused to talk about their son, so this was a rare occurrence.
"Mulder-" She began but was cut off.
"We're out of marshmallows." He moved the items in the cupboard around, failing to meet her eyes. She nodded as he continued to search through the cabinet.
Once again, Scully turned her eyes towards the milk as it began to boil. She removed it from the burner and onto the oven mitt that was sitting on the counter.
"Why are you upset right now?" she asked as she reached to turn the burner off.
"Why am I upset?" He slammed the cupboard, "I'm upset because my son will be eight years old in two weeks and I have no idea if he even knows how to hold a baseball bat or to shoot a basketball. I'm upset because I don't know who his friends' parents are, or what his favorite color is," He finally met her eyes, which had, by this point, glazed over with unshed tears.
She just stared back into his eyes, shocked by his outburst, and without a response, she pushed herself off of the counter and towards the door. Walking through the door she made her way to the den and sat on the couch, facing the fire. Pulling the throw blanket around her body, she rested her head against the back of the couch, releasing a sigh and closing her eyes. It was just a few moments later that a cup was placed in her hand and she opened her eyes. He cuddled in next to her with his own mug and sipped his hot chocolate. "I'm sorry, Scully," he sat back a bit to look into her face. "I know that sounded like I was blaming you-"
"As you should," she took a sip of her own hot chocolate. "You had no say in the matter." She stated bluntly, looking into her cup.
"Which is actually my fault," he set his cup on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning in for hers as well. Removing her mug from her hands, he set it on the table. "It's not your fault at all," he said as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. A single tear made it's way down her cheek. "I…." She looked to him then looked to the fire. "I need to know that he is safe," She turned towards him as the dam began to open. "I've been thinking about him lately, and I'm not sure why, but the need to know-"
"I'll find out," He cupped her face. "I'll make some calls and I'll find out," He said as he brushed the tears from her cheek.
"You cant," she cried. "There's no way to know," she opened her eyes.
"There's always a way," He pulled her head into her shoulder and she let out a sob. "There's always a way."