Disclaimer: I do not own anything or anyone in this fanfiction.
Spoilers: none.
Rating: K+, in case.
A/N: Written for my soulmate Nanda (scullaaay on tumblr). It was supposed be to something totally different, and ultimately, I will write the original idea too. But now, try to enjoy this not funny comedy. Happy belated bday!
Summary: some years passed after IWTB. Mulder works as a psychologist, and his patient is Rick... Ignore possible age differences. Arc "I gave him up" never happened. Everybody is happy.
FAMILY MATTERS
"Please, sit down. If you're ready, we can start."
Mulder never felt like he could help people in the matter of their psyche and problems in life. Being completely honest, he easily get frustrated by people and their voices. But here he was – sitting by the other side of desk, as for now, and waiting for his patient to start talk. Again, what was his name…?
"Richard Castle. You can call me Rick." The man smiled, kind of nervously, but still with natural charm. Oh, Mulder knew that type. Once upon a time he tried to be like that… Not his thing. "You probably have read some of my bestsellers."
"Possibly. Two, maybe three. That Nikki Weak series."
"Heat. Nikki Heat." Writer definitely felt annoyed. Good. Day without irritating anyone would be a lost day.
"So, what's the matter, Rick?" Psychologist opened patient's acts, reading first sentences. "Something wrong with family? Wife, one of daughters?"
"Not exactly." Castle moved impatiently on the sofa, feeling a bit uncomfortable. "I think I have again a midlife crisis."
"Again?" Now, it was a dramatic time to open a special notebook and write some thoughts. Of course, he always was drawing ladies in skirts, but let's no go there.
"Well. Kind of. It's complicated. You know, it's been a while since I have written a book. I finished Nikki Heat series after quitting a work with my wife."
"Oh, so Nikki was based on her?" Mulder was curious. If Kate Beckett would be the same interesting as her book version…
"You can say. Anyway, then I had a short fascination in aliens… and stuff."
"Happens."
"I even tried to get to that top secret base in Roswell, but of course, the government didn't let me."
"What a pity." Roswell wasn't the best example, after all. Too mainstream. But again, writers like these things.
"When it passed, I wanted to have a fresh start with something completely new, but… I don't know. It feels like I can't write anymore."
"But you write some short stories for New York Times sometimes, don't you?"
"Wow. You read these?" He was surprised.
Fox opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out the most recent newspaper of NYT. "How to not train your daughter, part two," he read, raising his eyebrows. "Really, Rick?"
"Well… Writer not always can choose what he's supposed to write." Castle shrugged his shoulders. "And I have two daughters. I think I have a lot of to say in that matter."
"But you said you don't have problems with them, and clearly, in this short article, you advise what to do when your daughter dates… a boring guy."
"It was connected with Alexis, old times. Rachel is more… like a typical girl. With her choices, I mean."
Mulder sighed. Was it only him, or this talk keeps leading them nowhere? He looked out of the window, and then…
"Do you like basketball?"
…
"SoIsaid, I don't know how you feel about it, but I'm sick of all the crime stuff. I quit, and to be honest, I think you should do yourself some vacations, too."
"Oh man."
Rick outplayed him and a ball made it to the basket. Sun was setting down.
"It wasn't the best move, was it?"
"Not really."
"Yeah, I figured it out soon enough, but still too late." He played the ball to Mulder. "I mean, damn, we wanted honesty in our relationship, after some stuff that happened earlier, so I said the truth. That's the problem with women: you do what they want, and they want to fucking kill you, because you did it."
"Well, I get that, you wanted to leave, you had full right to do it." He dribbled in a place. "That was not the thing that bothered her the most, but of course I guess she felt touched, probably thinking it's your mood swing…"
"Mood swing? I don't have mood swings!"
"Whatever you say." Fox missed the man, with the ball hitting the pitch. "But really, saying that she should quit too? Dude, that was terrible idea."
"I just suggested her that."
"Even worse. Haven't you learned anything? The women are the strong ones."
"So what, now we're the weak sex?" Castle let the ball roll over the ground.
"We always were. Don't worry," Mulder added, clapping him in the shoulder. "It took me some time to realize that, too."
…
Mulder thought the air is basically sparkling fire.
"So, Kate, I'd like to talk with you about Rick and his… problems."
"Oh, that sounds like something new." She rolled her eyes, and looked at him again. "I don't know what he have told you, but believe me, it's too late for any help for him."
"Interesting. For me, he seems very sane and quite normal."
"Because you don't live with him in the same apartment. And oh, I guess, it's the matter we're married. I know him way more I would like to not at times."
"After all," Fox started again, knowing that he should try to stay professional, "you didn't quit the work in a police, just limited your hours. Not working with Rick anymore. Do you think it helped?"
"Kind, of course yes. At some other, it screwed everything." She crossed her hands. "I knew he wouldn't be here forever. Well, he stayed surprisingly long anyway. But…" Her voice, kind of trembled, and Mulder thought: I gotcha!
"Are you with someone?" she asked, totally out of blue.
"I am."
"I guess you have worked with her, didn't you?"
"We're not talking about me, Kate," he finally answered.
"Oh, come on. I want to make something clear."
"We have. For a long time though."
"Just like us. I guess not that long. But still. I think Castle's main problem is wanting to be a center of attention. Every man has it. And he still thinks I need him in everything."
Psychologist opened his arms, powerless. "I think I don't understand."
"Oh, you do. I love him, but sometimes I just want to punch him in the face way too much."
…
"You still work as a medical examiner?"
"Of course. I like it. It's probably weird to you, isn't it?"
"Not that much. My best friend has this thing for dead people, too."
It's been a while since Scully had a gun in her hand, but you don't forget some things. Honestly, her favorite part of working in FBI was shooting and catching bad guys. And as she guessed, taking Beckett to a range wasn't the worst idea, thinking about possible negative feelings.
"So what do you think about this whole thing?" Kate asked, looking as Dana changes the clip in the gun. "God, I find embarrassing the fact he went with it to the psychologist…"
"Don't worry, Mulder has taken care of weirder stuff in his life than this."
"Wow, really? I thought it's just me who finds my husband as the strangest thing on earth."
"You would be surprised." Dana smiled a bit, and fired the gun. Series went off as easy as it used to. Good. "But anyway, do you think he really has a problem with writing? I mean, a midlife crisis, I get that, but… What's the real problem?"
"Honestly? I can just guess," detective sighed. "It all started when we stopped working together. I don't know, it seems like he wants to move on with some stuff, but he can't." She pulled her own gun and checked the clip. "Maybe he really get burned, as a writer, and it depresses him."
"Maybe. And what about your daughter?"
"Rachel? Oh well. She's very familiar with us both, and that's not good. She's like a volcano about to explode. And she can be like a nice calm girl." Second series of gunshots was even louder. "No, I think he just can't deal with himself. Probably…"
Dana nodded her head. "I've got an idea. Let's have dinner."
…
"Scully, there's a reason why it's not you who has the power in a kitchen."
"I know. I just wanted to help."
"And how burned chicken will help us, woman?"
When William went to the kitchen, for a second he was completely sure that the fire is burning down their house. Just after a while he realized that smoke was coming from an oven, and doubled dead body of a poor bird.
"Damn, mom, again?"
"Watch your mouth, young boy." Dana cleared her throat and opened a window. "We have guests coming soon. Any ideas?"
"Pizza?" Fox suggested, reaching for a phone.
"For real? I wanted something original up here."
"Well, I guess your original chicken wasn't the best idea." William waved his hand, trying to see something out of the smoke.
She sighed. "Pizza. Very good, yes."
…
"Ah, I have to admit, really glad you didn't bother yourselves with making a special dinner for us. Pizza is always relevant. Who's idea was that?" Rick smiled and looked over them.
"It was… a common idea," Scully said, drinking some coffee and ignoring her boys.
"Family agreement at its best," Kate replied, and in her voice was a though sound.
"I will take care of dishes." William volunteered, having the feeling that the storm is coming.
"I will help you." Rachel followed him into the kitchen, having the urge to disappear from her parents' watchful eyes.
"Can you put the dishes to the sink? Thanks."
She backed up, looking around. There was a thing that get her attention. "Sunflowers everywhere. Why sunflowers?"
"Roses are overrated."
"Yeah, they are." Rachel raised her eyebrows, and asked. "Haven't we met once?"
William looked at her, kind of surprised. "I doubt. I guess I'd remember."
"Nope, let me think. Are you a fan of Star Wars?"
"How would you know?" And then, they both called. "Last year at June, Central Park."
"Oh, how could you forget that rally?" She stated to roll her hair on the fingers.
"Impossible, true. You pretend to be Han Solo, didn't you?"
"Oh well. I regret nothing." She smiled, but before she could say more, they both heard raises voices in the garden. When they came back there, the talk apparently made a move.
"You did what?" Beckett was furious, even her coffee split.
"Sweetie, calm down." Castle smiled, but at the same time, he backed up. "I just needed some contacts, so I told you send me… It could help me write a new book!"
"So wait, you made a contact with FBI because you wanted to write a book about aliens?" Mulder was really surprised.
"Basically. And that guy told me I should contact with you two. But well, it would be unprofessional if I'd come with this topic from the start, so I called to you as a patient." Looking at them all, he added. "…Sorry?"
"And who was that man that send you to us?" Scully was worried and irritated at the same time.
"An old friend of mine. Walter Skinner."
…
Hearing a phone ringing, Skinner decided to ignore it. Day was too beautiful to waste time on listening pretension of anyone.
"Good day for fishing," he murmured, closing the door behind him. The phone was still ringing.