Author: Kathleen Anderson (mr_and_mrs_spooky@yahoo.com)
Rating: Overall R, this part, PG-13
Spoilers: Requiem for sure, but anything before that is fair game as well.
Summary: Post-Requiem, we'll see what happens from there!
Archive: Anywhere
Feedback: If you feel like writing me and telling me what you think, be my guest
Obligatory Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, they belong to Chris Carter (and am I the only one who tries to write his first name as Christ??) and 1013 Productions. Oh yeah, and all the mistakes in this are mine....
Today was one of her rare good days, a day in which she could function like any normal person. She had gotten out of bed when her alarm went off, she ate a well balanced breakfast courtesy of Kellogg's Special K and now she was sitting through a department meeting. Skinner had urged to attend, saying that it was vital at this stage of the game to keep appearances up. Scully had always wondered why the X-Files was considered a department when most of the time they were treated so badly. But, Skinner had told her that she must keep going if she wanted the X-Files to remain open, and she did. She didn't want Mulder to return and find that she had thrown away his life's work. There were some days that she considered calling up Skinner and telling him that the X-Files could go to hell for all she cared, but then she thought about Mulder. The X-Files weren't exactly an active department at the time being, as the powers that be had yet to choose a new partner for Agent Scully, and yet, she still had to sit through the horrible meeting. Men in black suits droned on and on about lack of money, requests for transfers, transfers of funds and to top it all off, the guy across the table was making eyes at her. Scully wondered if the guy knew he was one wink short of being on the receiving end of her hideously over-priced black leather pump.
The meeting did end and Scully breezed out of the stuffy board room, making a bee-line for the basement. She heard someone following her down the hall, but she did not turn around.
"Agent Scully" called a familiar voice. She cringed inwardly, Skinner wasn't exactly the first person on her list of people to talk to. But still, she stopped and turned around.
"What can I do for you sir?"
"It's more like, what can I do for you Scully. You looked pretty far away in that meeting there, you been okay?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"I know it's hard agent, but keep it up. I've dealt with other agents who have lost their partner, it's a very trying time for even the most stoic. Of course most of the other teams were male/male and neither one of them was..."
"Was what sir? Pregnant with their partner's child? Is that what you're trying to say? With all due respect here sir, I would like to be treated the way that you treated those men, I don't care if you treated them like shit, but I doubt they received the mollycoddling that I'm getting."
"I'm sorry Scully, I was under the impression that you wanted support during this time, I guess I'm mistaken."
Scully watched as Skinner disappeared back down the hall, she sighed. He had been very kind to her during these first few weeks, and she was almost sorry that she'd pushed him away so rudely. She'd been doing that lately, pushing people away. She feared any kind of emotional attachment. She clenched her fists and continued on down to the office.
This was the one place that reminded her of him that she didn't mind being. She couldn't stand to be in his apartment for longer that necessary and was considering enlisting the gunmen to move the fish tank to her own apartment. But this office, it had become her sanctuary. She had dug through old files and come up with a picture taken of her and Mulder back during the case at the Falls. Of course, the picture had been staged but what it represented was not false. She'd had it framed and placed it on the desk. Sometimes she wished she remembered more of her own abduction so she could sympathize with Mulder. She just prayed he wasn't being harmed and that he would be returned to her soon.
Every morning when she woke up, she'd think of things that she hoped Mulder would be back in time to see. If she had an appointment with her OB/GYN for an ultrasound in a couple of days, she'd pray that Mulder be returned in time for that. But each event went by without him: her first sonogram, the morning she discovered her pants no longer did up, the day that she did not throw up immediately upon waking up. She'd tried keeping a journal for him to read when he returned but that failed miserabley. She wanted him beside her, she wanted to tell him how she was feeling but she couldn't express her thoughts on paper. She'd never been much of a writer, it was enough to write up cases. She thought back to the journal she'd kept while in Africa, but that was filled with mostly scientific facts and records of conversations than of her feelings for him.
Scully stretched her arms as she stood up. A quick glance at her watch confirmed what she already knew, it was time to meet her mother for lunch. Her mom had taken up what seemed to be permanent residence in a motel fairly close to Scully's apartment. Scully had offered to let her stay with her, but her mother had politely declined, most likely not wanting to put up with her daughter on full-time basis. Scully had been relieved when her mother declined. Scully sighed and headed for the main doors.
As she entered the small cafe they had decided upon earlier, she scanned the tables for her mother. Her mom waved her over and Scully sat down with a small thud.
"Hard day?" her mom politely inquired.
Scully raised an eyebrow, "no, not really. I had a department meeting and then a brief run-in with Skinner."
"I know, Skinner called me."
"Why?"
"Honey, he's worried about you. I think he wants to you take some time off."
"Do you think I need to take time off?"
"I think you need closure honey, that's what you need. Have you given any thought to a memorial service?"
"Mom! He's not dead!"
"Sweetie, he's been gone for over a month and there's been no sign of him. I think you should talk to Skinner about planning a memorial service and we can look into getting a headstone."
Scully was apalled at her mother's blatant suggestion that Mulder was dead. She had thought about a memorial service during her early stages of grief, but didn't see a point until there was concrete proof that he was dead, proof undeniable.
"No Mom", she said a little louder that she had intended, "I will not plan a service and I will not look into getting a headstone. Mulder is not dead!"
"Eat your soup dear, it's getting cold."
Scully wondered if her mother knew she was also one remark short of being on the receiving end of her hideously over-priced black leather pumps.
So much for this being one of her good days. Scully opted to go home after lunch and call in at the bureau as being sick. She knew no one would dispute her claim and she did not want to deal with anyone else today who might potentially piss her off, Skinner and her mother had been bad enough. A headstone for Mulder, she didn't even want to contemplate that. In her mind's eye she could see herself standing in front of the uncaring grey slab, holding a bunch of flowers in one hand and a baby in the other. She would read the words engraved upon it and feel a tear trickle down her cheek. Her baby would cry and she would try to soothe him/her, telling him/her that this was daddy's grave but daddy was not down there. Definitely not a scenario she wanted to come true.
Scully eyed her bathtub approvingly. A nice warm bath was just what she needed right now. She began to run the water and added some vanilla scented salts to the water. Her OB/GYN had told her that taking baths to relieve stress was good for the baby and Scully wasn't about to dispute her. She took off her clothes and as usual regarded herself in the mirror. Her breasts were larger than they had been and she wished Mulder could see them now, no doubt he would have some smart-ass comment on them. Her stomach, no longer flat was swelling slightly. She ran her hands over that slight roundness and closed her eyes. She could pretend her hands were Mulder's, caressing the baby. Those hands would gently make their way up to her breasts and then down again to touch her where she craved his touch the most. His lips would be pressing against her neck, her back, his breath caught in her hair.
Scully shook off the fantasy and stepped into the water. She sunk down until just her head was visible and she just sat there. She tried to make her mind blank, to remove all thoughts of Mulder from it. Tomorrow she would look into purchasing one of those relaxation cds, the ones with the babbling brook, the waves crashing on the shore, the birds chirping in the woods. Then she could light a few candles, run a bath, pop in the cd and prepare to become stress-free-Scully instead of bugger-off-or- I'll-bitch-slap-you-Scully.
Scully fairly nearly jumped out of the water when she heard a loud knocking on her door, interrupting her pleasant reverie filled with a naked Mulder, a bottle of wine and strangly enough a babbling brook. She heaved herself out of the water and wrapped a towel around herself. Whoever was at her door was either knocking for the first time and found it unendingly intriguing or was very eager to see her. She flung open the door and saw Frohike standing before her, his hand raised in a near knock. Frohike took one look at the towel clad Scully and fainted.
"Frohike!" exclaimed Scully, as she bent over to look at him. Had Frohike been conscious he would have received a rather unintentional peep show.
Scully tapped his shoulders a few times and slapped his face once or twice and Frohike regained consciousness.
"Scully! Er, uh, sorry about that. You have to get dressed now and pack a bag, we have to go somewhere. The guys are waiting in the van downstairs."
Scully turned for her room, trusting that if this was important enough to get the gunmen out of the house, it was important enough for her to come. Frohike tried to follow, but Scully put her hand up to stop him. The guy could be a total sweetheart one moment and in the next a total pervert.
A few minutes later, Scully was fully clothed and sitting the van surrounding by the anxious guys. It turned out they had received word of some unexplained activity in the skies above Bellefleur, Oregon and thinking immediately about Mulder had gone to get Scully. Scully was on her cellphone getting in touch with Skinner, who had said he would meet them at the airport. Scully knew the Lone Gunmen must be sure about this lead for them to be willing to fly out to Oregon on a standard American AirLines flight. They had hacked the mainframe of the airlines and put in a request for 5 tickets, they knew Skinner would be accompanying them. Scully hung up with Skinner and dialed the number for her mother's hotel.
Another hour later, the gunmen van pulled up in front of the airport. Scully, Langly and Frohike hopped out with the luggage and Byers went to park the van in the overnight parking lot. The trio went to check their luggage and as they were doing that, Skinner approached them. Scully wondered how Skinner could have gotten there so fast, but didn't dare question it. Skinner had only a tiny duffle bag which he declined to check in saying that he would check it as carry-on.
Scully allowed herself only a tiny glimmer of hope that this expedition might lead to the recovery of Mulder. She had gotten her hopes once before and the depression which followed was all consuming. She tried to remain as blank faced and composed as Skinner.
Soon it was announced that their plane was boarding and as they make their way through the gate, Scully tried to explain to Skinner her earlier actions. Skinner merely dismissed her with a nod and an "it's okay agent Scully, you've gone through a lot, we all have." The plane was boarded and soon Scully was tightly gripping her armrest, missing Mulder's familiar comforting as the plane took off. Soon, she hoped, he would be back beside her in the seat. If only he could pull himself out of his empty grave.