Forces of Nature
by Rachiraptor (Rachel Stone)
Official Disclaimer: This Story is based upon characters belonging to Chris Carter, Fox, 10-13, and so on. No money is being made from this ditty. I mean, read it. Do you really think that anyone would pay money for this? Anyway, no infringement is intended, scout's honor.
Note: This story is a plotless morsel of cheese inspired by a recent trip to Seattle and to Mount St. Helen during which I observed a bit of life imitating art and couldn't resist scribbling it down.
Rated: "PG" (For the heck of it. Very mild stuff here.)
Category: MSR/V (Why else would I be writing this???)
Dedication: For Chip and Susie
Summary: Mulder and Scully take a day off in Washington State. **************************************************************************** *****
Scully allowed her head to roll back against her headrest, willing the tension acquired during the past two weeks of an extremely challenging case to melt away. She glanced sideways at Mulder as he drove through the night. He looked tired.
Mulder's eyes drifted shut repeatedly, each slip of consciousness punctuated by an abrupt jerk of the steering wheel as he righted the course of their rental car. Scully would have offered to drive, but she knew that her eyes weren't much better.
Through the distant haze, Scully spotted the blinking neon of a motel. "Pull over Mulder. Its time for us to go to bed."
Even with exhaustion eclipsing his concentration, Mulder absolutely had to respond. "I thought you'd never ask." He grinned wickedly and was rewarded for his efforts by receiving one of his favorite Scully gestures; the eye roll-brow arch-pursed mouthed, Scully look.
"Mulll-Derr..."
Without further debate, he pulled into the asphalt driveway of yet anther dinky motel in the middle of nowhere. It defied reason that the two of them had come to regard places like these as homey. They had spent so many nights surrounded by seventies orange, avocado green, tattered bedspreads, sticky linoleum flooring, ice machine noise, and temperamental television sets that such sights were comforting in a bizarre kind of way.
They slept.
***
Scully awoke the next morning to the insistent pounding of Mulder's fist on her door. She squinted at her clock, shoving her hair out of her face. The clock read 7:03 am. I'm going to kill him in his sleep one of these days. She thought as she stumbled to the door.
Mulder immediately thrust a large coffee into her hands and breezed into the room. He paused for a moment to observe Scully's state of morningness. Her lovely auburn hair dipped over one eye. Her skin shone, the absence of make-up leaving a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks visible. Mulder stood in awe thinking, 'Nobody is supposed to look that cute when they first wake up.' As she stretched, his eyes were drawn to her bare mid-drift exposed thanks to two missing buttons on her pajama top. He mused to himself that flannel had never looked so good. It was a welcomed departure from the ultra-conservative, neck to toe satin pajama sets that he'd seen her in on a few occasions. His mind's eye conjured an instantaneous Scully fantasy involving his fingers running through her silky hair then discovering every inch of the delectably-sweet, peaches and cream skin as he guided her back to bed while unbuttoning and stripping her flannel top from her body.
Pushing the dangerous thoughts aside, he proclaimed his *good* reason for waking her up. "Do you know where we are?"
"In a hotel room, Mulder. Go away." Scully deadpanned.
Not discouraged in the least, Mulder began excitedly. "Yes, but we are also less than one hour away from Mount St. Helen." He concluded, obviously feeling that no other explanation was necessary.
"Let me guess, sulfur based, subterranean, pod-like parasites again?" Scully saw the glimmer in his eyes and suspected that she was in for another trip down Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and that there was no way of getting out of it.
"Sightseeing, Scully. We don't have to be back for four days." He practically bounced in impatience to get started.
"Sightseeing?" Scully dawned incredulously.
"Yeah, get dressed and lets hit the trail, so to speak."
Concession inevitable, Scully pushed Mulder out of her room and shuffled slowly to the shower. A smile played on her lips at the thought of a day of leisure spent with Mulder. She couldn't help it.
Mulder was a force of nature. Get out of its way, yield to it, go with it, or risk being battered and forgotten. She had made her choice long ago.
An hour later, the Suburban rental maneuvered along a twisting mountain pathway. Gravity exacted its toll and pulled at the two passengers as the car slung around the next turn. Given a choice between looking down upon the steep cliffs less than three feet beside the tires or napping, Scully opted for sleep. Mulder chanced a sideways glance at her slumbering profile, and it filled his heart, effectively chasing away the darkness and loneliness just as the mere sight of her had always done.
From the first stop at a lava invaded forest, to the impressive views of the volcano in all of its destructive glory, Mulder was captivated. Scully enjoyed the lazy day as well. Only for her, the sight of Mulder scrambling around on and mostly off of the trails had turned out to be even more entertaining than the national monument itself.
The car slowed to a halt, its tires kicking up plumes of gray dust and gravel. A barren meadow spread before them tempting the imagination to conjure up scenes from science fiction films and Pathfinder images from Mars. In the distance, rose the conical magnitude of St. Helen. Looking at its barren flanks and intermittent sprays of steam made it difficult to envision the mammoth trees and fertile brooks that had covered the landscape geologically not that long ago.
Mulder was in paradise. Scully shook her head and laughed as her partner jaunted ahead, running from one point of interest to the next, unable to dampen his excitement even by the tiniest fraction. After he completed his initial survey, Mulder sprang back to Scully and began his dissertation on volcanic flows and the ecosystem. "This area once contained, " he stammered slightly still out of breath, "a biologically diverse old growth forest. The initial lateral blast in May of 1980, leveled or burned away most of the plant life. Volcanic ash and rocks mixed with atmospheric water vapor and melting glaciers producing a super- heated mud flow or, 'Lahar' leaving its deposits across this field and into the once raging, now struggling streams in the area." He paused for dramatic emphasis. Scully had no doubts that he had most likely assimilated this information from one quick glance at the park's newspaper. Mulder then began his summations. "What power. What an incredible testament of the natural world's ability to constantly re-invent itself and to evolve. Nothing created by man can withstand this awesome power, or be safe--as you will--from the wrath of God. We assume that we have a right to own the land beneath our feet when the truth is, it owns us."
Scully bit back a smile and teased with feigned innocence, "Impressive Mulder. And here I thought that you only watched the Playboy Channel."
"Cable was out, Scully." came his retort delivered with a wink. He clamored into the car in search of the next scenic overlook. He didn't have to wait long.
A previously wide river had been choked by volcanic sedimentation. Slowly, Mother Nature set about the task of recovering the bed via a winding trickle cutting its way downstream beneath the bridge where Scully now stood. She turned in search of Mulder only to find him vanished. Then his voice bounced up to her from the valley below. "Hey Scully, This is great! Come down here!"
Scully chose instead to sit on the bridge rail propping her cheek against her folded legs as she watched the man that she loved run from one out-cropping of boulders to another, his energy boundless. His child-like wonder was magnificent. To her, Mulder was magnificent.
Others had little tolerance for his idiosyncrasies and unconventional thought. Scully believed that these differences simply hallmarked his brilliance. She would gladly weather his platitudes, egocentric schema, leaps of faith, and even his occasional insensitivity if it meant that she might benefit from his loyalty and companionship, and that she could partake in moments like this one. A renewed sense of connectedness surged through her, lessening the weariness in her soul.
One day, Scully would tell him how she felt even in light of possible rejection and the potential loss of their friendship. Although common sense told her that risking her heart to a man so full of his own purpose could prove to be disastrous, she would tell him that she was his for the taking, body and soul, in exchange for the right to express the full force of the love that, she was certain, was mutually shared.
Her best friend waved like a madman in the distance, flashing his devastatingly handsome smile before climbing out of the ravine and sprinting towards her. Yes, maybe someday she would tell him when the time was right. Maybe today. 'After all,' she decided as she glanced at the transformed earth around her, 'what's the use in fighting a force of nature?'
**************************************************************************** *******
Thanks for reading!!! I hope that you enjoyed this little nibblet of fan- fic. If so, I encourage you to read my full-length X-files story entitled, "It's Easier to Believe". It contains a teaspoon of X-file plot, two heaping tablespoons of humor, and a generous cup and a half of romance and closure. It is listed on Fanfiction's site and at Gossamer. Feedback is appreciated, needed, and adorded even. Please, please, please! I answer all e-emails and would really love to hear from you or read your reviews. : ) All comments to Fanfiction's review section and/or to Rachiraptor@yahoo.com . **************************************************************************** *******
Official Disclaimer: This Story is based upon characters belonging to Chris Carter, Fox, 10-13, and so on. No money is being made from this ditty. I mean, read it. Do you really think that anyone would pay money for this? Anyway, no infringement is intended, scout's honor.
Note: This story is a plotless morsel of cheese inspired by a recent trip to Seattle and to Mount St. Helen during which I observed a bit of life imitating art and couldn't resist scribbling it down.
Rated: "PG" (For the heck of it. Very mild stuff here.)
Category: MSR/V (Why else would I be writing this???)
Dedication: For Chip and Susie
Summary: Mulder and Scully take a day off in Washington State. **************************************************************************** *****
Scully allowed her head to roll back against her headrest, willing the tension acquired during the past two weeks of an extremely challenging case to melt away. She glanced sideways at Mulder as he drove through the night. He looked tired.
Mulder's eyes drifted shut repeatedly, each slip of consciousness punctuated by an abrupt jerk of the steering wheel as he righted the course of their rental car. Scully would have offered to drive, but she knew that her eyes weren't much better.
Through the distant haze, Scully spotted the blinking neon of a motel. "Pull over Mulder. Its time for us to go to bed."
Even with exhaustion eclipsing his concentration, Mulder absolutely had to respond. "I thought you'd never ask." He grinned wickedly and was rewarded for his efforts by receiving one of his favorite Scully gestures; the eye roll-brow arch-pursed mouthed, Scully look.
"Mulll-Derr..."
Without further debate, he pulled into the asphalt driveway of yet anther dinky motel in the middle of nowhere. It defied reason that the two of them had come to regard places like these as homey. They had spent so many nights surrounded by seventies orange, avocado green, tattered bedspreads, sticky linoleum flooring, ice machine noise, and temperamental television sets that such sights were comforting in a bizarre kind of way.
They slept.
***
Scully awoke the next morning to the insistent pounding of Mulder's fist on her door. She squinted at her clock, shoving her hair out of her face. The clock read 7:03 am. I'm going to kill him in his sleep one of these days. She thought as she stumbled to the door.
Mulder immediately thrust a large coffee into her hands and breezed into the room. He paused for a moment to observe Scully's state of morningness. Her lovely auburn hair dipped over one eye. Her skin shone, the absence of make-up leaving a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks visible. Mulder stood in awe thinking, 'Nobody is supposed to look that cute when they first wake up.' As she stretched, his eyes were drawn to her bare mid-drift exposed thanks to two missing buttons on her pajama top. He mused to himself that flannel had never looked so good. It was a welcomed departure from the ultra-conservative, neck to toe satin pajama sets that he'd seen her in on a few occasions. His mind's eye conjured an instantaneous Scully fantasy involving his fingers running through her silky hair then discovering every inch of the delectably-sweet, peaches and cream skin as he guided her back to bed while unbuttoning and stripping her flannel top from her body.
Pushing the dangerous thoughts aside, he proclaimed his *good* reason for waking her up. "Do you know where we are?"
"In a hotel room, Mulder. Go away." Scully deadpanned.
Not discouraged in the least, Mulder began excitedly. "Yes, but we are also less than one hour away from Mount St. Helen." He concluded, obviously feeling that no other explanation was necessary.
"Let me guess, sulfur based, subterranean, pod-like parasites again?" Scully saw the glimmer in his eyes and suspected that she was in for another trip down Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and that there was no way of getting out of it.
"Sightseeing, Scully. We don't have to be back for four days." He practically bounced in impatience to get started.
"Sightseeing?" Scully dawned incredulously.
"Yeah, get dressed and lets hit the trail, so to speak."
Concession inevitable, Scully pushed Mulder out of her room and shuffled slowly to the shower. A smile played on her lips at the thought of a day of leisure spent with Mulder. She couldn't help it.
Mulder was a force of nature. Get out of its way, yield to it, go with it, or risk being battered and forgotten. She had made her choice long ago.
An hour later, the Suburban rental maneuvered along a twisting mountain pathway. Gravity exacted its toll and pulled at the two passengers as the car slung around the next turn. Given a choice between looking down upon the steep cliffs less than three feet beside the tires or napping, Scully opted for sleep. Mulder chanced a sideways glance at her slumbering profile, and it filled his heart, effectively chasing away the darkness and loneliness just as the mere sight of her had always done.
From the first stop at a lava invaded forest, to the impressive views of the volcano in all of its destructive glory, Mulder was captivated. Scully enjoyed the lazy day as well. Only for her, the sight of Mulder scrambling around on and mostly off of the trails had turned out to be even more entertaining than the national monument itself.
The car slowed to a halt, its tires kicking up plumes of gray dust and gravel. A barren meadow spread before them tempting the imagination to conjure up scenes from science fiction films and Pathfinder images from Mars. In the distance, rose the conical magnitude of St. Helen. Looking at its barren flanks and intermittent sprays of steam made it difficult to envision the mammoth trees and fertile brooks that had covered the landscape geologically not that long ago.
Mulder was in paradise. Scully shook her head and laughed as her partner jaunted ahead, running from one point of interest to the next, unable to dampen his excitement even by the tiniest fraction. After he completed his initial survey, Mulder sprang back to Scully and began his dissertation on volcanic flows and the ecosystem. "This area once contained, " he stammered slightly still out of breath, "a biologically diverse old growth forest. The initial lateral blast in May of 1980, leveled or burned away most of the plant life. Volcanic ash and rocks mixed with atmospheric water vapor and melting glaciers producing a super- heated mud flow or, 'Lahar' leaving its deposits across this field and into the once raging, now struggling streams in the area." He paused for dramatic emphasis. Scully had no doubts that he had most likely assimilated this information from one quick glance at the park's newspaper. Mulder then began his summations. "What power. What an incredible testament of the natural world's ability to constantly re-invent itself and to evolve. Nothing created by man can withstand this awesome power, or be safe--as you will--from the wrath of God. We assume that we have a right to own the land beneath our feet when the truth is, it owns us."
Scully bit back a smile and teased with feigned innocence, "Impressive Mulder. And here I thought that you only watched the Playboy Channel."
"Cable was out, Scully." came his retort delivered with a wink. He clamored into the car in search of the next scenic overlook. He didn't have to wait long.
A previously wide river had been choked by volcanic sedimentation. Slowly, Mother Nature set about the task of recovering the bed via a winding trickle cutting its way downstream beneath the bridge where Scully now stood. She turned in search of Mulder only to find him vanished. Then his voice bounced up to her from the valley below. "Hey Scully, This is great! Come down here!"
Scully chose instead to sit on the bridge rail propping her cheek against her folded legs as she watched the man that she loved run from one out-cropping of boulders to another, his energy boundless. His child-like wonder was magnificent. To her, Mulder was magnificent.
Others had little tolerance for his idiosyncrasies and unconventional thought. Scully believed that these differences simply hallmarked his brilliance. She would gladly weather his platitudes, egocentric schema, leaps of faith, and even his occasional insensitivity if it meant that she might benefit from his loyalty and companionship, and that she could partake in moments like this one. A renewed sense of connectedness surged through her, lessening the weariness in her soul.
One day, Scully would tell him how she felt even in light of possible rejection and the potential loss of their friendship. Although common sense told her that risking her heart to a man so full of his own purpose could prove to be disastrous, she would tell him that she was his for the taking, body and soul, in exchange for the right to express the full force of the love that, she was certain, was mutually shared.
Her best friend waved like a madman in the distance, flashing his devastatingly handsome smile before climbing out of the ravine and sprinting towards her. Yes, maybe someday she would tell him when the time was right. Maybe today. 'After all,' she decided as she glanced at the transformed earth around her, 'what's the use in fighting a force of nature?'
**************************************************************************** *******
Thanks for reading!!! I hope that you enjoyed this little nibblet of fan- fic. If so, I encourage you to read my full-length X-files story entitled, "It's Easier to Believe". It contains a teaspoon of X-file plot, two heaping tablespoons of humor, and a generous cup and a half of romance and closure. It is listed on Fanfiction's site and at Gossamer. Feedback is appreciated, needed, and adorded even. Please, please, please! I answer all e-emails and would really love to hear from you or read your reviews. : ) All comments to Fanfiction's review section and/or to Rachiraptor@yahoo.com . **************************************************************************** *******