Utu Part 2
Christchurch HospitalFriday 10th
8 am
Rod dropped Scully early at the hospital gate. She found herself in the ridiculous quandary of wanting to be with Mulder and not wanting to see him. Don't be stupid, she told herself. Just act normal, he's hardly going to be in any state to notice how you're behaving anyway. I hope he slept alright.
With some trepidation she entered his cubicle to find him sitting up in bed making a half hearted attempt at one handed toast buttering. He looked dishevelled, pale, exhausted and was as cross as a bear. Scully thought he looked wonderful. 'Hey,' she said.
He looked up, the smile transforming his face. 'Scully! Where've you been?' With horror she watched the smile dissolve into tears. 'I woke up and you weren't here.'
'Mulder, hey,' she grabbed his hand. 'I'm here. It's all right.'
'You weren't here,' he sniffed.
'I'm sorry. I know. But I had to sleep. It's been three days since I slept.'
'Scully sorry. I'm sorry Scully.'
'It's alright.' She wiped his eyes and let him blow his nose. 'I'm here.'
'I am so drugged.'
'I can see that,' His eyes wouldn't quite focus.
'I know you needed to sleep Scully.'
'It's all right Mulder. It's good to see you so much better. Do you want me to butter your toast?'
He shook his head. 'It's horrible. You could tile floors with that.' He moved awkwardly on the bed. 'I hate hospitals.'
'Yeah. Now you can add another one to your list.'
Alison floated in the door and put two cups of tea on the table. 'Fox, good news. We're moving you to a ward about ten o' clock. Drink that, both of them, and I'll come and take you for a shower.' She smiled at Mulder and winked at Scully. 'I'll enjoy that.' She grinned, 'Gosh Dana, you look better than the last time I saw you.'
'Every time I walk in here someone says that to me.'
'Might be something in it then.' She turned back to Mulder, 'I'll see you in five. Drink your tea and give your kidneys something to play with please.'
Mulder sipped on the weak tea. 'What did you have for breakfast then?'
Scully thought guiltily of freshly stewed plums, nutty cereal and bread fresh from a breadmaker. She had had a choice of homemade strawberry jam or marmalade made by Paula's mother for her bread. There had been a plunger of strong coffee to accompany it. 'Nothing much,' she said. 'How are you feeling anyway?'
He leant back on his pillows and sighed. 'I don't know,' he said crossly. 'I'm sore, I'm woozy. I'm itchy. I'm dirty.' He opened his eyes and glared at her. 'I'm... I'm just pissed off! Fuck It!' his voice was rising. 'I'm in fucking hospital when we ought to be on vacation. Shit!' He forgot himself and banged his fists on the bed. 'Ahhh,' he howled with pain.
'Mulder,' Scully cried, reaching for him.
'Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I'm sorry,' he sobbed, tense against her chest. 'I've ruined our vacation. Ow. Fuck it hurts.'
Scully shushed him and held him tight, rocking gently. She saw Alison out of the corner of her eye and nodded slightly as she read her query. A few minutes later Alison was back with a syringe. With the contents injected into the IV Mulder settled quickly. Soon after Scully laid him back on the pillows and they watched him fade into sleep.
'Oh well,' Alison said. 'A shower a bit later then.'
Hagley Park
Central Christchurch
3.45pm
Scully was enjoying the sunshine and at last allowing herself to relax a little. She checked her watch, should she go back or should she not? The trees above her gave a dappled shade, enough to protect her from the hot sun and still let some of its warmth in to her tired body. She stretched out on the grass and watched the play of light in the leaves; the colours iridescent and shimmering as a gentle breeze stirred them. Turning her head she watched the sunlight sparkling on the little river that wound through the park. From this angle she could ignore the bulk of the hospital buildings that she could feel looming behind her. She could just lie here and sleep for a little. Now that would be an odd thing to do. She could get up and go back to the police station. She could go back to one of the cafes she'd seen on her way to Rod's office earlier.
She sat up. She could go into the city and sight see. She could go shopping. She could get a cab and go back to the Stuart's. Or, she sighed, she could go back inside and make her peace with Mulder.
She smiled fondly, she knew that the fit of bad temper was really just frustration, but even so. It wouldn't hurt him to know that she wasn't prepared to sit at his bedside like a faithful puppy dog.
Mulder's transfer to the ward had not been plain sailing. He'd been extremely disgruntled to learn that his insurance didn't cover a single room. Things had gone downhill when he discovered that one of his three room mates, could not stop talking. The other two were elderly and deaf. He threw a tantrum that had simply infuriated the staff and embarrassed Scully. It hadn't stopped his room mate talking.
Scully had excused herself and gone to see Rod. On her return she discovered that someone had told Mulder that she was staying with a police officer, not at the hotel as he had thought. Why hadn't she told him he demanded? Because there hadn't been a chance, and anyway so what. Things had escalated and again she'd left. So far she hadn't gone back. What did he think she was doing with the police officer he didn't know? How could he think...? Well, her logical mind told her, has he got any reason not to think that? If you're going to marry me Mulder, you better learn that I don't like to be possessed. And I suppose I'd better get used to sharing things that happen to me. That way no one need get jealous.
She smiled gently. Mulder, you idiot. Don't you know me better than that?
When she walked in she thought she'd come to the wrong room. To start with it was full to overflowing with flowers and was eerily quiet. Three beds were empty and the one that should have been her partner's was completely covered in a snowstorm of get well cards and fluffy toys. For a moment she thought she'd wandered into a child's room by accident, until she noticed Mulder, sound asleep in the middle of the mess.
Mulder was lying on his left side; his bandaged arm flung out beside him with a pillow that was probably supposed to be supporting it. Clasped in his other arm, held tight to his chest was a very large teddy bear. Scully smiled and kissed him quietly on the forehead. 'Well hello Mr tough FBI man.' She carried a chair to the bed. Curious she picked up some of the cards. As she looked through them she could feel her astonishment growing. Taking a handful she went back out to the office. 'Nurse? All this stuff on Mr Mulder's bed. Where did it come from?'
The girl looked up from her paperwork and smiled. 'It's incredible isn't it. That lot's been building up at the main office since he's been here. Apparently there's even more for Mrs Maruyama. People have really taken it to heart.'
'But these cards are all from total strangers. People have sent flowers and toys.' She held up a cheque, 'People have sent money!'
The girl shrugged. 'The whole country felt really bad about what happened. I think the fact that it happened on an Air New Zealand flight makes it feel like it happened here. Mr Mulder and Mr Brunner are heroes, and what happened to Mrs Maruyama is a tragedy. People want to help out.' She gave a quizzical look. 'You do realise that you were headline news for at least two days and the media is still desperate for an interview? I'm surprised they haven't nabbed you yet on your way in or out.'
'You won't let them in will you?'
'Of course not. We've all been given instructions. Mr Brunner's being moved down soon too. Don't worry we'll look after them.'
'What about young loud mouth in there,' she motioned towards the room. ' What's to stop him from telling the tabloids, "I shared a hospital room with..." sort of thing.'
The nurse smiled. 'Don't worry about him, I've just discharged him. He's gone, and the old fellas don't care about anything that isn't carrying a cricket bat. New Zealand are playing the West Indies this week.'
'Oh,' said Scully. 'Thanks for the tip.'
Scully borrowed paper and pen and went back and started noting return addresses if there were any. She collected cash and cheques and realised there was over a thousand dollars here. 'Hell,' she breathed. That was a lot of money to send to a total stranger. There were also pledges of places to stay, free boat and plane trips, free meals and of course the flowers and toys. She started reading the cards. Some simply said "Get Well"; many more were eloquent pleas to not judge New Zealand by what had happened on the flight. The writers seemed to feel that they needed to create a good impression of their country. Many suggested places and attractions to visit, all expressed a genuine desire for the recipient to recover soon.
Scully already had tears in her eyes when she discovered a hand drawn card. The artist had drawn a stick figure with an enormous bandage on its arm. In the background was an aeroplane. Inside he had written,
" To the man who saved the laddy on the plane my mum says your a hero and I should learn that I shoodnt hit my sister corse people get hurt and sometimes its not who you mean bt i shood grow up to be a good person like you Iam sorry you got hurt but hope you have a nice holiday anyway I hate my sister but shse all rite
love from
Liam"
Scully laughed and carefully refolded the card. She looked up to find Mulder's hazel eyes fixed on her. 'Hey,' she said.
'Hey,' he smiled tentatively. He clutched at the bear. 'Is it alright Scully?' He looked at her anxiously. 'I'm sorry about what I said.'
That bear would be easier maintenance than me, Scully thought. She couldn't resist him, nor did she want to. 'Yes Mulder. It's alright.' She leant over and kissed his forehead, the old familiar kiss. She searched his eyes and on impulse leant lower. She kissed him on the lips. His lips were firm under hers, warm and alive. They parted in surprise and she swallowed his breath.
'Oh,' and she pulled away. She sank onto the bed beside him, hand on his shoulder.
He stared up at her. 'What was that for?'
Didn't you like it Mulder? No, don't joke, that's an old response. I wanted to kiss a hero. That's not the right response either. Be honest remember, she told herself. You decided you'd tell him the truth. 'You almost died,' she said. 'Again. You almost died and I realised I'd never kissed you.' There. Does that make everything better? She searched his face and saw that it did.
'Now,' she said swallowing her emotion. She stroked his hair. 'What do you want to do with all your loot?'
'Don't change the subject,' he growled. His arm came around her. 'Can we do that again?'
'mmm.'
They did. Long and hard until it started to get desperate and Mulder pulled away, panting, suddenly dizzy. 'Oh.' His eyes were closed. Scully sat there stroking, grounding herself. She was slightly disorientated herself. 'Oh wow,' he finally said.
'I know,' Scully answered.
Mulder licked his lips. Then he looked up at her, eyes sparkling. 'Scully,' his voice was husky, 'you taste of sugar.' His eyes locked on hers. 'Donuts. You've been eating donuts. God Scully, I'm so hungry.'
She laughed, tension released. 'It will be dinner time soon. They always feed you early in hospital.'
'They won't feed me anything decent. You know that. I'm still on a light diet. I want a steak. Or a burger. Could you get me a burger?'
She stared at him. 'Why are you on a light diet? You should be eating okay?'
'Um,' he dropped his gaze. 'I threw up at lunch time.' He rushed in to justify that. 'I was upset and I hadn't eaten anything for days. I just choked on some lettuce, it wasn't a real vomit but...'
'And you want me to get you a burger?'
'Or a pizza,' he said hopefully.
'Mulder,' she sighed with exasperation. 'I'll tell you what, I'll get you some fruit. Something that slides down easily.' She picked up a card and looked at it grinning. 'I'll get bananas. Bananas are good in cases like yours.'
'Lots of potassium and stuff?'
'Yeah.' She showed him the card that showed an elderly superman fighting to get the top off a pill bottle. 'And they taste nearly the same coming back up as they did going down.'
His look was one of pure disgust.
'Now. What are we going to do about all of this loot?'
He noticed her unconscious use of "we" and settled back into the pillow, feeling more content than he could remember in years.
Later in the afternoon Colin Brunner was transferred into the next bed. He was the other passenger to have been injured by Matuso Maruyama. With him came another florist's convention of blooms and the entire teddy bear isle of a toy shop. Colin had been across the aisle when Maruyama pulled his knife. He had launched himself at the man as the woman had started screaming and had been stabbed in the stomach for his efforts.
Colin was still quite ill but alert enough to be pleased to see Mulder. He remembered Mulder dragging him into the aisle but not much after that. He was interested to hear what else had happened.
Mulder told him what he could. Coming from the row in front, he had been slower and had to get over the injured Colin before he could grab at the enraged husband. He'd shoved Colin out of range and then tried to stop the man who was stabbing repeatedly at his wife. He hadn't been in time to save the wife from receiving serious facial wounds. The awkward space had made it difficult to grab for the man and Maruyama had lashed out with the knife to try and stop him.
Scully had taken herself over the seat and managed to drag the screaming woman along the hastily vacated central seats into the other aisle, leaving Mulder the chance to use his greater bulk to subdue, and finally sit on Maruyama. Male cabin stewards had then taken over and dragged the man to the back of the plane where he'd been flexicuffed to a seat. Mulder's memories were hazy after that.
It had been absolute chaos, Scully remembered, people screaming and fighting to get away. Blood everywhere. She had been busy with the injured woman and the crew and another doctor from further down the cabin had looked after Colin.
Noriko had been having trouble breathing, the knife wounds went right through her cheeks and she had blood streaming down into her throat. Scully had spent a long time with her, trying to keep her calm, pleased that there was another doctor who could look after Colin. When next she'd had time to notice Mulder she'd been shocked to see him clutching a blood soaked towel around his arm.
'I hadn't even realised you'd been hurt,' she said quietly. 'Then I saw the blood dripping from your elbow and saw how pale you were.'
A stewardess had seen it too and hurriedly sat him down reclining the seat. She grabbed another towel, which she put over the first one, and holding his arm up against the back of the seat applied pressure, but it wasn't enough.
Another doctor had appeared and Scully handed Noriko over to her just as Mulder vomited, proving how shocked he was. Before Scully could do anything he'd passed out. The slashes were so numerous and deep that she'd had no choice but to use a tourniquet.
Things had seemed strangely surreal after that she told them. The aircraft purred along, the way it had all the time. There was a movie running and three unconscious people were sprawled across the cabin, one in each aisle and Mulder across the centre seats. The aircraft carried a life pak defibrillator, a clever machine that allowed the doctors to take their patient's heart rhythms, 'and it gave us a basic chance of saving you if one of you went into cardiac arrest,' Scully said. She didn't add how surprised she was that nobody had. Oxygen of course was available and there was enough basic medical equipment to put up three IVs, but the only drugs available were for cardiac and asthma conditions. What they really needed was blood and an operating theatre and they were still three hours from Christchurch. Things had seemed pretty desperate once they'd done all they could, but she didn't tell them that.
The staff had been great she said. Several stewardess were trained nurses and very helpful. The captain had come back and offered to divert to Fiji if the doctors thought it was necessary. However he'd pointed out that while that might be life saving, the surgical services in Christchurch would definitely be above the standard of Fiji's and Fiji's blood supply might be unreliable. The doctors had conferred and decided to continue to New Zealand.
That was a decision they regretted when two hours later Colin's heart rate had become extremely erratic and Mulder's blood was still hosing from him every time Scully loosened the tourniquet. ' I didn't want you to loose your arm,' she told him, holding his hand tight, 'but then it looked like it might be a toss up between that and your life. Your blood pressure was practically non existent. I decided not to take the cuff off again.' Her lip quivered. 'I'm sorry.'
'Scully, shhh. It didn't happen. I didn't loose it. Scully,' he used his good hand to wipe her tears 'I wouldn't have minded. I trust you. If that was the choice you made. That would be okay.' Scully's breath caught in a sob and she leaned into him. The fright of the flight was still very close, probably more real for her than for him. It was his turn to soothe. 'We made it. We all made it, and it's thanks to you.'
'I wasn't the only one.'
'I know. But I'm grateful.'
What the hell just happened here Scully asked herself as she allowed Mulder to hold her against him. She'd been frightened for him before. She had been terrified when he was in that secure psych unit and yet she went off to Africa without even seeing him. What was different now? It was as if kissing him had broken the "I'm fine" barrier. Now they had to be honest. And that meant that comfort could be offered because pain could be acknowledged. She nestled her head against his chest. And comfort could be accepted.
'I heard,' Colin said as he watched the other two snuggle, 'that the captain got that plane to fly faster than it ever has. He used nearly all the fuel reserves and took half an hour off the flight.'
'That's what saved your life,' Scully said. 'And your arm,' she told Mulder.
'I know,' they both said.
'I'd drink a toast to that if they'd let me,' grumbled Colin who was still unable to eat or drink. With Mulder and Scully cuddled together on the bed the conversation moved on to the general griping of two convalescent patients.
Stuart Residence
Sat 11th
9 am
Scully finished a brief perusal of the newspaper then got up to top up her coffee. The sun was bathing the kitchen with warmth and it was going to be too hot to sit here soon. She looked across the table at the morose figure on the other side and reached over to refill Rod's cup too. 'I know you can't stop thinking about it,' she said, 'so why not update me on your witness that came in yesterday.'
Gratefully Rod pushed the newspaper away. 'It might be something,' he muttered. 'Not exactly a reliable witness. The guy thought he had seen a girl fighting someone who might have been trying to get her into the back of a van after the parade. He just thought she didn't want to go home, reasonable assumption. He's done an identikit of the man, but he doesn't really remember, not even enough to remember if he was Pakeha, Maori, Asian, or alien.' Rod saw her quizzical look. 'Pakeha means white. This guy's not even sure if it was Hinemoa, and as far as the van goes,' Rod sighed with frustration, 'it might have been a blue Ford Transit. Or it might not.'
'What's made him take so long to come forward?'
'Usual thing. Wasn't sure if it was important. Didn't want to get involved. My pick, he's a dope head with weed growing in his bathroom and doesn't want to get done for anything himself. His conscience, or his girlfriend finally got to him.'
'Are you running a check on him?'
'Not yet,' Rod grinned. 'We'll give him a chance to be an upright citizen.' He looked around like he'd only just noticed she was missing. 'Where did Paula say she was going?'
Scully shrugged. 'She didn't. Just said she had something she had to do, then we'd go out.'
'Oh yes. Sightseeing.' Rod's voice dripped with sarcasm. 'If you see anything other than shops or markets I'll be very surprised.'
Scully grinned. 'It's a girl thing. Maybe you should come with us, take your mind off things.'
'Thanks but no. If I get time later I'll drive you up onto the Port Hills and show you the view. What time do you think you'll be back?'
'Ah. Sorry. Paula will leave me at the hospital. I won't come back until about six. That should be all right for getting to the concert shouldn't it?'
'Yeah, well, hopefully I'll have nothing to do tomorrow and I can take you then.' They both smiled and Scully knew he didn't believe a word of it.
'What have you got set up for tonight then?'
'I'll go in about three for the briefing. There's a huge uniform presence anyway and I've got six plain clothes teams to cover as well. There's no ticket gates or perimeter fences so I'll get them to wander around the edge of the crowd. You,' he gave a glare that made him uncannily like Skinner again, 'will find somewhere in the middle of the crowd and hang on to Davy like...'
'...like he's my own,' Scully finished. 'Don't worry. I'll be the only other person there aware of danger. I'll be watching them.'
He smiled. 'Thanks.'
'You'll be watching the car parks?'
'Yep.'
'Lost children area?'
'It's a tent. Yes, but I think he's more likely to do what he did last time, take a child at the end when everyone's milling around and parents are distracted.'
But Scully was no longer listening to him. She was staring at Paula who had come in while they were talking. Paula was watching her right back, a triumphant smile on her face. She was holding up Scully's blue jacket. The jacket that Scully had last seen bloodstained and ruined stuffed into a hospital property bag. Only now it was on a hanger, clean, pressed, and as good as new. 'Oh,' Scully said reaching for it then sitting down suddenly as her legs gave out on her. 'Oh thank you.' Her eyes glistened. Paula put the jacket on the table and enfolded Scully in her arms. 'I thought you'd be pleased,' she murmured.
Surgical Ward
Christchurch Hospital
9.30 am
Mulder stood with his nose pressed to the window watching a circus set up in the park across the road. From this height, the border of oaks were inconsequential and he could see most of the action. It looked to be a beautiful day out, but up here in the air conditioning the outside weather was immaterial. He paced the length of the window, turning at the end and returning to where he started.
'For god sake stop it,' Colin muttered but without much conviction. It wasn't the first time this morning he'd said it. 'You're making me tired.'
'Yeah. Sorry,' Mulder moved back to his bed. He was a little tired himself and now he could pretend to be appeasing Colin. 'Where have the old guys gone?' he asked wondering if it might be somewhere more interesting than here.
'They're watching the cricket test in the lounge.'
'Oh.' Nope, cricket was one thing English he'd never managed to get interested in. He'd been to a match once, only huge amounts of alcohol and the absence, for some reason or other, of Pheobe had made it tolerable. He picked at the bandaging around his fingers. How long till he could have another of those pills? His arm ached terribly with a sort of tingly, jumpy sensation while the briefest touch caused it to flare into heart stopping agony. The pills weren't as good as the injection, but at least his head was clearer now. He tried to wiggle a finger into the bandaging.
'Don't do that Mr Mulder,' a deep voice boomed in his ear.
Jesus! Mulder jumped as if he'd been stung. Mr Sharples, the plastic surgeon. Fuck! He looked around. And the entire entourage, keen young things in white coats. 'Morning,' he muttered. ' I didn't realise you people worked weekends.'
'I do try not to,' Sharples said. 'However since I wanted to check in on Mrs Maruyama, I decided I would come and see you too. Let's have a look at that arm shall we.'
Before Mulder could blink his arm was unwrapped and naked before the crowd. He stared in horror at the suture lines that criss crossed the pale skin of his inner arm. Jesus. The skin was pulled and swollen, puckered and disfigured by the red cuts and peppered by hundreds of tiny black stitches. The gauze pulled off the wounds was sticky with yellow exudate and had a feral, unhealthy smell.
The smell did it. He felt himself swoon, the sweat breaking out on his forehead, the sound of the doctor and medical students swelling and waning in his ears. Oh hell, he thought vaguely. This will be a first, fainting while actually lying down. He moaned, if he didn't throw up first. He became aware of his other hand being held, the grip hard, giving him another focus. Gratefully he turned his head to meet the eyes of a young Asian girl in a white coat. She held his gaze and kept it. Gradually, swimming in her dark eyes, he felt better. She waited until the wounds were cleaned and redressed before she left. She never said a word.
Ten minutes after the road show had left the male charge nurse came into the room. 'Mulder mate,' he grinned. 'Great news. You've got weekend leave.' He smiled at the reaction he got. 'Do you need to use the phone?'
Stuart Residence
5pm
Davy walked into the kitchen to find the adults were still arguing. He looked anxiously from one to the other, the pretty woman and the tall skinny man with his arm in a sling. Their voices were raised, their postures aggressive and they were both talking at once. They looked like two cats hissing and spitting at each other. Davy knew what they were talking about but he couldn't follow what was being said. He hoped he could manage not to look too disappointed when they told him they weren't going, he didn't want her to think he was just a dumb kid. Davy supposed she must think it strange that a deaf kid would want to go to a concert anyway, but he'd been looking forward to this since last year. He could feel the music through the ground and through the air, the crowd created an electricity that made him tingle. And then there were the fireworks. He could hear those. Please let us be going. He glared at the man and sent a silent plea. "Go back to hospital. Don't ruin it."
'Dana.' He pulled anxiously at her sleeve until he got her attention. 'We are going aren't we?'
'What?' Scully snapped. She turned, seeing the appeal in the dark eyes and instantly realised what was wrong. She put her arm around the boy's shoulder and made sure he could see her face. 'Yes Davy. We are going to the concert. Mulder,' she glared at her partner, ' is not!'
'Scully,' he whined. 'I can't stay here. They've only got four TV channels.'
She growled. 'Give me strength. We have been through all of this. You are supposed to be resting.'
'He could rest on the blanket,' Davy said, desperately trying to rescue the situation. 'We take a blanket to sit on,' he explained. 'Sometimes I just lie there and look at the sky.'
'There,' said Mulder triumphantly giving the big helpless shrug that made her want to kill him.
'For fu..,' Scully swallowed her swear words. She flung her hands up. 'Okay.' She turned and glared at him. 'You. Go lie down. Now. We leave here at six so you've got about an hour. I'm going...' She was pacing in frustration. 'I'm going for a walk. And don't even think of getting off that bed until I get back.' She turned to Davy. 'Watch him,' she ordered. She flung open the front door and strode out.
'Oohh.' Mulder and Davy exchanged looks. 'You better lie down then,' Davy said.
'Don't come heavy on me kid,' Mulder mumbled. He started to slump into the lounge room, which was their bedroom for the duration.
Davy stood at the door, arms folded like a jailer and watched as Mulder found the remote, climbed onto the sofa bed and turned on the TV. He brightened. 'Hey, What's happening in the cricket.'
'Dunno,' Mulder patted the bed. 'Why don't you come and explain it to me. You got any food?'
Half an hour later Scully was back, bad temper assuaged by her brisk whisk around the block. The afternoon was warm, the gardens smelled sweet, and she was soothed by the buzz of lawn mowers and the scent of backyard barbeques. Saturday summer afternoon in suburbia. To be followed by free family Christmas concert. It felt good. It felt normal. Until she remembered that this was a borrowed suburb, she was taking borrowed children to the concert, and to all intents and purposes, this was really borrowed time. In about three weeks she'd be back in winter Washington, back to her real life.
With a sigh she let herself back into the house and went into the lounge. Fuck. The sight before her was perfect proof that men started their training young and never grew up. Mulder and Davy shared the bed, Brad was in the armchair. It was a male bondage personified. They were muttering unintelligible somethings to each other, swearing (all three of them) at the cricket commentator, and having a wonderful time. The bed, and the rest of the room were littered with potato chip packets, crushed chips, coke cans, chocolate biscuit packets, and... Yes, she sniffed the bowl, it really was. Custard! Custard smudged the bowl that showed signs of having been licked, custard trailed across the duvet, and a fair bit of it was smeared across three tee shirts and three faces. There was even custard on the cream carpet.
'Mulder!' Her voice was low and dangerous.
Brad jumped and Davy turned to see what happened, but Mulder gave a sunny smile. 'We're winning Scully.'
'Jesus.' She punched the off switch of the television with violence and launched into full rant. 'How the hell could you make such a mess in such a short time? And this?' she held up the bowl, 'What the hell is this?'
'That was Brad's idea,' Mulder told tales. Brad sunk in his chair. 'He's good at making custard. These biscuits,' he held up an empty packet, 'taste really good with custard. You should try them.'
Jesus Christ. He had no fucking idea. This was someone else's house he'd just trashed, not some crummy hotel room. She skewered him with a look and watched him shrink. She extended it to take in the two boys. 'You lot, get this cleaned up. Now.' Her voice was nearly a whisper. 'Or we won't be going anywhere.'
'But Dana,' Davy's voice was panicked. 'He didn't get out of bed. Not once.'
In retrospect Mulder decided the custard party probably hadn't been a particularly good idea. Scully had barely said a civil word since she'd caught them. She'd apparently forgotten about Mulder's need for rest too, and had made him get down on his knees and clean the carpet. She was busy slamming the last of their picnic provisions in the boot while the boys climbed into the back of Paula's little two door hatchback.
Mulder watched Brad quizzically. He had a feeling he'd been conned and that chocolate biscuits with custard wasn't something Brad was usually allowed to eat. Damn. It tasted good though. He licked his lips, hopefully checking for any left overs.
He looked up to see Scully watching him and for once couldn't read her expression. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip in one last search and saw her pupils darken. His groin got it before his mind did and a warm feeling rushed through him. Mmm. Must file that away for future reference. How come he'd never noticed that before. God, she looked good tonight. She was wearing her new blue jacket with a floaty floral dress underneath it. The jacket was the same colour as some of the small flowers on the dress, the colour that matched her eyes. He was so unused to seeing her in anything other than drab coloured suits that she seemed a different person. She looked stunning. He wondered if she knew.
'Mulder,' she said, her voice like velvet. 'Get in the car.'
Scully knew that driving a right hand drive car on the left hand side of the road was going to take a little getting used to. She would have preferred her first attempt to have been solo but there hadn't been a chance. Now, she was having to figure it out with a car full of backseat drivers.
Brad started it. 'My Dad says that lots of people get killed by tourists who try and drive on the wrong side of the road.' That was as she reversed down the driveway and hadn't even got on to the public domain.
She managed to get onto the road, on the right side, which was the left side and pointed in the right direction then she stalled. Damn. Her right hand hit the door as she reached out automatically to change gear, with the wrong hand. She expected Mulder to snigger but he didn't. When she had her left hand on the gear stick he placed his hand on top and gave her a little pat. 'You get used to it you know,' he said. 'It won't take long.' He smiled at her, he seemed happy again. 'Hey Scully,' he said as she did the little hand shuffle at the intersection with the main road. 'You want me to change gears.' She grinned back. It was good to have him with her, even if he really shouldn't be here.
'That way,' Brad ordered. 'There, there see. Turn there.'
Thankfully Scully already knew where to go. They were going to park in the police station yard and walk the two blocks to the park. Scully just hoped that Mulder was up to it. She knew he had to feel worse than he was letting on.
Even as they drove past the hospital they started seeing people parking and walking towards the venue. Maybe they were lucky to be parking where they were after all.
Mulder spotted the circus tent between the trees, bright red and white stripes, enticing in the sun. 'You'd hardly think it would be worth their while to show tonight, what with a free concert happening on the other side of the park.'
'Big park Mulder,' Scully said. And it was. There was much more to it than what he had seen from the hospital, half of their trip seemed to skirt the park.
They entered the one way system and the roads were packed and slow moving. Turning back onto a two way road gave Scully a moments worry as she'd been driving comfortably on the right and then had to readjust to end up on the left. However it was only another block to the police station and she pulled in, pleased they'd made the trip with out incident.
They piled out of the car, obviously not the only people with police connections making use of the parking. Scully loaded the boys up with their supplies, carrying two deck chairs herself and leaving Mulder to bring just himself. Moving onto the street they joined a happy throng of people all similarly laden moving towards the concert.
People attending the concert came in all shapes and sizes. There were family groups, teenagers, the elderly. In ones and twos or in much larger groups, happy and having fun, it seemed as if the entire population of Christchurch was intent on a free night out.
A bottle neck of pedestrians had formed at the bridge over the placid Avon River, the only entry to the ground from this direction. Although wide enough for vehicle access it was packed with people arriving from three different directions and all intent on going in one, across the bridge to the concert ground on the other side.
'Stick together,' Scully implored, but it was difficult. With their hands full they couldn't hold hands and the crowd swirling around them carried them every which way. Davy was nearly delirious with excitement, bouncing around. He was rather like Winnie the Pooh's friend Tigger Scully decided. She understood now where that character's traits had come from. She grabbed at his arm, then managed to snag the back pack Brad was wearing. 'Stay together,' she told them.
They were doing alright until she heard Mulder scream. Inspite of being well padded with layers of wadding and bandages, his arm was acutely sensitive to the lightest touch. He was wearing a sling, which had so far stopped people from getting too close, but now a woman, fighting with a struggling toddler had stumbled straight into him, her full weight and that of her child pressing his arm between her body and his. The pain was ghastly; the raw nerve endings shrieking in a cacophony of neural impulses that seemed to come from every part of his body. 'Fuckfuckfuck fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck...' The intense pain sent his body into shock. Scully turned back to see him, his arm clasped to his chest, doubled over, and slumping as he started to go down.
Struggling backwards she grabbed at his good arm, propelling him bodily through the crowd and up against the bridge rail where he sprawled, reeling, desperately trying to hold himself together. The crowd streamed past oblivious. 'Got bumped,' he gasped, tears streaming down his white face. 'Ohgod god fuckfuckfuckfuck...'
Scully leaned against him, something strangling her heart as she watched him fight the pain. She supported him with her body weight and at the same time shielded him from the crowd.
Shit! Scully looked around for the boys. 'Brad! Brad!' She could see his head disappearing off the end of the bridge. Davy being smaller was already lost from her sight. Oh Christ! If the perp had been watching them this was exactly the sort of happening he would be looking for. 'Davy!' she screamed although she knew he could never hear her. 'Brad!' She grabbed Mulder again. 'Come on. We can't loose the boys.'
With no choice Mulder stumbled alongside her. The crowd pushed them around like flotsam and Scully could no longer see the boys or even decide which way they had gone. Shit no! What now? Mulder staggered and she realised he couldn't stay upright much longer. She worked them across the flow, off to the side of the main path and up against one of the large oak trees that bordered the ground. 'Sit down,' she ordered. She helped him lower himself, pressing his head down to his knees, looked up, and there, leaning on the next tree were Brad and Davy. She took a deep relieved breath and offered a small prayer of thanks that they were sensible children.
'What happened?' Brad asked. 'Hey, Mr Custard, are you okay?
'Yeh,' Mulder mumbled attempting to smile. God, don't mention custard. He was really regretting that now and hoped like hell he wouldn't be seeing it again. The pain was easing a little but he felt like shit. He was breathing hard. 'Sorry to ruin the party.'
'You boys gave me a fright,' Scully told them. 'I thought we'd lost you.' She smiled warmly. 'And you've got the food.' The evening was warm but she pulled Mulder's leather jacket out of the pack and wrapped it around his shoulders. 'We'll sit here a couple of minutes,' she told the boys. 'Let's just watch the people go past for a while.' Her hand rested lightly on her partner's shoulder and he gave a small grateful nod.
Two minutes later Mulder forced himself to his feet. The nauseating scent drifting from a nearby hot food trailer was going to make him heave. But that wasn't the only reason to leave. He had been watching the boys and Scully, in her dress like a garden and realising that his continual needy child impersonation, must pale beside the pleasure she seemed to be getting from looking after the real thing. Okay Mulder, it is time to start acting like a man. And that means, not making a fuss when you get hurt. 'Come on,' he told them, 'let's go get a seat.'
Usually a sports field, the concert ground was a big open area ideally suited for tonight's use. At one end, near the bridge a huge box like stage was set up with an enormous Christmas tree beside it. There was a raised screen and sets of huge speakers in place around it. Marking a ragged perimeter were hot dog and ice cream stalls and rows and rows of portaloos. The field was already loosely full and the group made their way into the middle until Davy stopped them close to one of the speaker towers. It was possible to see the stage and the screen and seemed as good a place as any. They found a space and Brad set out the rug while Davy prepared to dive into the picnic basket.
Brad was being sulky again. He'd just remembered that he was being baby sat and that some of his friends were probably here alone. Then he remembered that his babysitters were American FBI agents and usually they wore guns, and that was just way cool. He didn't quite know what to feel. Meanwhile his stupid kid brother was bouncing around like a bloody bunny. And he was going to sing, Brad just knew it. Davy shouldn't sing. God it was so embarrassing.
Scully watched the sibling interplay while she set up the deckchairs. She watched amused as Mulder attempted to sit in his without appearing to collapse on it. She sat on the rug herself, smoothing out her skirt and enjoying the feel of the cool cotton on her legs. 'Hey Mulder,' she held out her hand in invitation, 'A beautiful evening, you and me, a rug in a park...' she waggled her eyebrows and watched delighted as he giggled.
'Yeah, you and me, two kids and a cast of thousands.' Wincing he slid down beside her.
'Lie down.' Scully hid her smile and settled him with his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair, enjoying its softness and knowing that he would be comforted by her touch. She noted he was still pale and sweaty. Her hand slid down to the pulse in his neck, still too fast. She congratulated herself. He'd feel much better lying down.
In the next twenty minutes the crowd had doubled in density, the boys had polished off an awesome picnic, and Mulder had gone to sleep.
When he awoke, the world seemed to have gone mad. People, hundreds of people surrounded him on all sides and his head was resting on Scully's thighs, his nose pressed against her stomach. He knew it was Scully by the intense Scully scent, although he could only see flowers from this cross eyed view point. A crescendo of sound washed over him, "Christmas Bells, those Christmas Bells, Ringing through the land..." He could feel Scully singing the words. He could hear Davy, loud and out of tune chanting them. Thousands around him were singing as well. "Bringing peace to all the world, And good will to maa aaaan." Turning his head slightly he looked up. Up past the glorious bumps of Scully, past her upturned chin, past where her hair shone bright against a cobalt evening sky, and he identified the other noise, two biplanes circling high above the crowd. Oh. The song, he knew it now, "Snoopy's Christmas," the Red Baron, and the two planes dog fighting in the sky. He breathed in Scully smell and felt her hand in his hair. He sighed with deep contentment.
'Mulder,' her hand tightened warningly in his hair. She bent her head down and kept her voice low. 'Stop sniffing my crotch.'
'Uh...' Swallowing he gathered himself to dive away but she kept hold of his hair. Pushing him back down she relaxed her grip and caressed his head instead. 'You can stay there. Just don't embarrass me or the kids. Okay?'
'Mmm.' He nodded furiously. He looked up to see her laughing quietly. Hell, he'd never managed to get away with this anything like this before. The crowd, and from the sounds of it, a choir and orchestra on the stage he couldn't see, were now into "Jingle Bell Rock". He didn't care if he didn't see any of the damn show. The view here was just fine.
Mulder knew he'd be filing the memory of this away in his pathetically thin file of truly happy moments. It would be something to savour in times to come, even if, he found himself hoping, this holiday produced more moments of equal pleasure.
He shifted position slightly. Although his head was supremely comfortable and his nose could stay here forever, as he awoke further he began to realise that the rest of him couldn't. He wasn't as young as he once was and his body was slowly making him aware that he'd been lying on hard ground for rather a long time. His right hip, in fact his whole right side that was taking his weight was starting to ache. And God Damn, his arm throbbed, a pain he'd already learnt wasn't going to get any better without the help of the tablets that were in the pocket he was lying on.
'You must be hungry. Do you want anything to eat?' Scully asked. 'I managed to get the boys to leave you a drumstick.'
Mulder tested the hypothesis and decided that he could eat something.
'Okay. You'd better get up then.' She gave him a gentle push and sighed. 'God, my entire body's numb from the waist down. Come on, get off me.'
Oh God, he scrambled up, awkward and stiff and instantly contrite. She smiled, frustrated with his distress. 'For heaven's sake Mulder. I'd have shifted you if I wanted to.'
'You're sure?'
'Of course. Now help me up.'
She held out a hand and he pulled her to her feet. She smoothed her skirt and rubbed her bottom. Oh Scully, let me. He took charge. 'Okay guys, our turn on the chairs.' Brad sank down on the rug but Davy stood, swaying wildly with the music, the words of the song thundering from his small body. How did he do that? Mulder watched the child and looked where he was looking. Of course. The screen was showing what was happening on stage and the words of the song were scrolling across the bottom. Mulder grinned then realised something else. He'd been aware but not aware when he was lying down, now finally with his feet he realised he could feel the base rhythm through the ground. Wow.
Mulder was quite taken with Davy, as he noticed Scully seemed to be too. He was a beautiful child with pure black wavy hair spiking above an elfin face. He was such a happy boy, his dark eyes alight with interest in the world, and more than a touch of mischief, no one would guess that he was handicapped in any way. His speech was very good, probably Mulder guessed because he'd been eight when he'd had the accident that had lost him his hearing. God it must have been dreadful for him and his family and yet, he seemed bright and well adjusted. It just goes to show, Mulder thought sadly, how loving supportive parents can make such a difference in a child's recovery.
If I ever have children he declared to himself, nothing is ever going to rock their world. He glanced at Scully and smiled wryly. If, I ever have children.
Scully handed him a plate with a piece of chicken and some salad. She gave him a coke and then handed over something else, the antibiotics he was supposed to take three times a day with food. He'd clean forgotten about those. What would he do without Scully to look after him? He smiled his thanks, noting with relief, the fond look in her eyes. What would he do if she ever stopped looking at him like that? To hide his emotion he fished in his pocket for the slide of codeine, fought with the packet and slid one under his tongue. When he looked up again she was engrossed in what was happening on stage. God she was beautiful.
Mulder managed a desultory couple of bites and then hid the plate under his chair. Davy appeared at Scully's elbow. 'I need to go to the toilet.'
Scully looked around. It was a long way to the nearest toilets. Damn. 'Mulder, could you take him?'
'What about Brad? He's a big kid.'
'No. They might get lost. It's alright. I'll go.'
'What's going on Scully?'
'I just promised I'd look after them. What would Paula say if Davy got lost.'
Mulder took him. Davy held his hand and they wove their way through the mosaic of picnic blankets. Mulder waited outside the loo while Davy went in and then, two like minded individuals, they gravitated towards an ice cream stall. Mulder's stomach thought ice cream seemed a much better idea than salad. Davy chose for them all, the most richly extravagant items on offer. Mulder went along with it. What the hell, they weren't his kids. And any way, he was on holiday. Part of the fun of being in a foreign country was in discovering the ice cream. He was surprised they didn't have something kiwi fruit flavoured.
Sitting companionably next to Scully they watched the Christmas tree light up and the first of the fireworks explode across the sky. They watched Davy's awe struck face. 'You want to tell me what you're so uptight about,' Mulder asked.
'What do you mean?'
'Whatever Rod is busting a gut not to ask me about. Whatever it is that he and you seem to think is going to go down here, tonight. Why you're so terrified the boys might get lost. Come on Scully I'm not stupid.'
She gave him a pissed off look. 'I don't want you to get involved and I know you will.'
'I can't say anything about that until I hear what the case is, can I?
Reluctantly she nodded. She knew he was going to get it out of her, so as she saw it, she was better just to tell him and get it over with. She gave him a brief synopsis of the case, the notes, and the Santa Parade kidnapping. Mulder upped his respect of Rod when he heard of his willingness to back his intuition. He took Scully's hand in his. ' I don't see that I can refuse to help if Rod asks.'
'He promised me he'd leave you alone. And I didn't ask him too either, but I was going to. I'm worried you'll go haring off on this and not let yourself get better. And,' she said nearly indignantly, 'you're supposed to be on holiday.'
'He wants to ask doesn't he? And look what he's doing for us.'
She nodded. 'That's the point. That's why he came to the hospital in the first place. But then you were so ill. He's a decent man. He couldn't ask.' She sighed. 'Please Mulder. We're on vacation. Don't get involved.'
Mulder gave her a strange look. 'But Scully you've already gotten involved. How can I avoid it? Anyway,' he went on quickly as she gave him a look, 'we don't know anything is going to happen tonight anyway.'
'Look,' Davy shrieked, breaking their concentration. 'Santa, look Santa.'
'Let's just get these kids home safely for now shall we,' Mulder said. Smiling they looked where Davy was pointing. At the back of the crowd, seemingly floating over their heads in a cloud of dry ice, Santa was indeed arriving. He was coming, not in a sleigh but in a polynesian canoe. A large fibreglass dolphin was pulling the canoe with strings of light wrapped around it, the whole effect was gorgeous. It was quite magical. Everyone was now singing something in a foreign language to which they all seemed to know the words. A chorus of " I Want to Wish You a Merry Christmas" had the crowd on their feet and swaying in ecstasy. Most people were standing, singing and swaying while fireworks were booming and lighting the sky with clusters and showers of colour.
Mulder held on to Scully's hand and they watched the sky. Their closeness and the atmosphere of the crowd made this special. They exchanged a shy smile. They were feeling good, here, together, sharing a magical moment. Pushing to the back of their minds the thought that right now, a child could be being abducted they enjoyed the moment. Mulder put his arm around Scully and pulled her close. He buried his nose in her hair but dared go no further. Then the mock violence of the fireworks drew their attention back to the sky and they were content just to sit there, her hand in his. Davy yelled with every boom, and ahhed at every show of light. Even Brad was entranced. Mulder felt unusually protective. He would make sure these particular children got home.
They got home with very little incident. But it was incident Mulder would have happily done without. After the concert finished, they'd waited for the crowd to disperse a little. They stayed put, munching on chocolate that Scully magicked from a dark corner of the pack.
They finally left the site to the clean up crew and snogging teenagers, acutely conscious of the people around them as they made their way to the car. And yet, apart from a group of boys standing in a row and urinating off the bridge, they saw nothing untoward. Brad and Davy were thunderstruck at the sight. Scully had a horrible feeling that Brad thought it was cool.
To Mulder, the distance back seemed to stretch. It was much further than he remembered. He forced himself to stand straight and walk naturally while his head felt swimmy and he could feel clammy sweat breaking out all over him. There was no way he was going to admit to feeling so bloody weak. Scully needed him to be a man. Scully was holding the picnic basket and Davy's hand, looking every inch a devoted mother and there was no way Mulder was going to spoil her enjoyment of the night. He tried to feel fatherish, escorting his family home but the giddiness ruined that. Scully seemed unaware of how he was feeling and he knew if he could keep it together until they got to the car he'd be all right.
He got to the car, but he wasn't all right. About five minutes up the road he knew for sure. 'Scully stop,' he said desperately.
She glanced at him in alarm.
'Sick,' he mumbled.
She was already pulling up. He was fighting with the belt and falling through the door, before they'd come to a complete stop. Lurching away he fetched up against a garden wall and used it to hold himself up as he vomited on to the dry grass at its base.
Oh real manly behaviour, he berated himself as his stomach contents spattered painfully onto the ground. Puking in someone's garden like a drunken high school student. He hung onto the wall and prayed for it to stop. Scully had zipped his jacket for him, with his arm tucked inside. Now the empty sleeve came free of the pocket it had been tucked into and hung in the line of fire. He turned his head trying to avoid it, and then it was suddenly out of the way and Scully's hand was resting warm and soothing on the back of his neck. Her arm came around his waist and gratefully he leant into her as the spasms lessened and let him breath again.
'Thanks.'
She passed him a tissue.
'I don't know why that happened.'
He heard her chuckle, a sardonic sound with little humour. Her voice when she spoke though was warm. 'You don't think that eating nothing except custard, ice cream and chocolate since you came out of hospital might have had anything to do with it? Did I leave anything out?'
'I had some salad.'
'Oh right. Two teaspoons of lettuce.' She led him back to the car and buckled him in.
'I had a little bit of chicken.' She got in and started the car. 'And crisps,' he muttered. 'And chocolate biscuits.' God, why couldn't he keep his mouth shut.
She looked at him fondly, as if he were a mentally retarded, but favourite relative. 'Mulder, you are such a baby.'
Right! Yeah, strike one for manliness. Good one Mulder. That went really well.
The boys piled out of the car when they got home, still high on the excitement of the evening. Brad was humming quietly, prowling and unable to sit still, he kept chattering. 'Suzy was good, didn't you think? And what about Bic Runga? How do you think they managed to get her to sing, she's awesome isn't she? I've got her album. That Santa guy, do you think he was really that fat...' Scully murmured "Mmm" and "yes", and "no", as seemed appropriate as she moved around the kitchen making a hot chocolate drink for herself and the boys. Davy was doing much the same as Brad, but he was nearly completely incoherent. He was dancing around muttering loudly; booming noises interspersed with snatches of lyrics of Christmas Carols.
Mulder sat and watched them all. 'What time does their mother get home?' he asked.
'In about half an hour,' Scully laughed. She gestured at the cups she was stirring. 'I'm hoping this will settle them down.'
'What does she do?' Mulder knew he'd been told but it had been a very long day since he'd woken at 5 am in his hospital bed.
'She's a nurse. She works part time in a rest home. Boys,' she waved to attract their attention. 'Come and sit down and have your drinks.'
'Can't I have one?' Mulder asked. 'I feel fine now. There's nothing wrong with me.'
'Good. Let's keep it that way shall we. Hot milk would not be a good idea.' Mulder snorted, unaware that he looked more childlike than the children. 'There might be some lemonade in the fridge, or what about some peppermint tea?'
'Yuck. Scully pleease.'
She sent the boys off to get ready for bed. 'No.' She put her hands on her hips. 'I think you should go to bed too.'
Mulder narrowed his eyes. 'You want to get rid of me.' She avoided his gaze. 'You do don't you.' Recognition dawned. 'You're going to phone Rod and you want me tucked up in bed so I won't do anything stupid, like going running out to help.' He stifled a huge yawn. 'Well you don't have to worry, I've barely got the strength to make it to the bed right now. I'm not going any further than that.' He gestured towards the phone on the breakfast bar. 'Go on ring him. I want to know what happened. Go on. You want to.'
They looked up as Brad wandered back down the passage wearing pyjamas emblazoned with fluorescent concrete trucks. Mulder had to hide a grin, he remembered some pyjamas, or was it boxers, with a very similar print somewhere in his past. 'Um,' Brad stood shyly, the rebellious teenager once again an awkward child. 'Thank you for taking us tonight Dana. I had a really good time.'
Scully beamed. She wanted to hug him but felt he wouldn't be comfortable with that. 'That's alright Brad. I enjoyed it too. Thank you for coming with me.' They all heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway. 'Now you'd better go and get into bed. Your mom will be in any minute.' Brad bolted.
Paula spent a minute or two saying goodnight to her work mate. She was staggered to find the boys already in bed when she came inside.
'No troubles,' Scully reported. 'They were fine.'
'Hell,' Paula breathed. 'I've never managed to get them to bed after we've been somewhere. I thought they'd be bouncing off the walls.' She went to say goodnight.
Mulder continued his argument. 'Come on Scully ring him. I bet he's expecting you to call and report that you got home safely. Isn't he?' She refused to acknowledge him. 'You'd better do it then hadn't you. He'll be getting worried.'
'Mulder. For christsake..' but she picked up the phone and dialled a number she read off the top of the pad. 'Rod. Hi it's Dana.' ... 'Yes, fine. No problems. It was great.' ... 'Yes we really enjoyed it. How are things at your end?' ... 'Really,' her face lit up and she listened for awhile. 'That's great. Well I guess you won't be home for a while. Yes, she's just here,' and she passed the phone over to Paula who'd just come back into the room.
'Well Mulder,' she said softly. 'You can sleep undisturbed. They got him. Two officers caught him in the car park. A girl screamed and they caught a man trying to shove her into the back of a car.' She looked at Mulder. 'You don't seem pleased.'
'Sorry.' He shrugged, he felt distinctly uneasy about something but he couldn't explain his disquiet. 'Tired I guess.' He was tired. His body was close to pegging out, he could feel an exhausted tremor deep in his muscles. He rested his eyes for a moment, trying to decide if he needed another codeine. He felt Scully stand behind him and place her hand on his neck, rubbing gently. He groaned, letting his head flop.
'Come on Mr Custard,' she pulled him up. 'Bed time.'
Stuart Residence
Sunday 12th
morning.
Scully woke slowly, the light filtering through her eye lids gradually forcing her awake. She'd slept surprisingly well, the camp stretcher turning out to be more comfortable than she'd expected. Her mouth felt dry and her head ached. She felt more tired than when she'd gone to sleep, her body reacting to the stresses of the past week she supposed. Hell, this time last week, if you disregarded time zones, she'd been preparing for more shopping with her mother. Now she'd finally been able to sleep properly, and all she wanted to do was sleep some more.
Rolling over she looked across to the sofa bed on the other side of the room. It was empty. How the hell had Mulder managed to rouse enough to be up already? Blearily she checked her watch. It was nearly nine, not so early at all. No wonder she felt groggy.
Even so, Mulder had been so exhausted last night she'd had to help him get ready for bed. He'd collapsed into sleep, out before he hit the pillow, one foot still on the floor, his mind and body unable to take any more. By rights he should still be snoring, but that wasn't Mulder's style was it.
Scully had taken her time preparing herself for bed. She sat beside him on the bed for a long time watching him sleep. With his face in repose he looked so much younger, child like and vulnerable. It made her heart churn and that response frightened her. It seemed so much easier to love Mulder when he was vulnerable. That was hardly a healthy response to build a relationship on. And yet he had comforted and cared for her too. In his arms she had felt safe. She remembered many incidents over the years, from small caring touches, his hand on the small of her back, a quick touch on her arm, right through to full blown hugs. There was his desperate hold on her after the psychic surgeon nearly took her heart, the warm flirty moulding of his body to hers when he taught her to play baseball. Mulder loved her, there was no doubt about that. It was whether she could love him, completely and utterly, in sickness AND in health that worried her.
So she'd climbed onto her stretcher, the one she'd asked Paula for, embarrassed at having to explain their relationship, when she'd learnt that Mulder was coming out of hospital. She lay there, listened to his breathing, and in spite of her churning thoughts, quickly fell asleep.
A good hot shower later she followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen. She felt, if not quite in the land of the living, at least one of the undead. The morning was warm and the sliding doors to the patio were open, letting in the scent of the garden and the muted sounds of the neighbourhood. Paula, still in her robe, was sitting at the table reading the paper. She smiled when she saw Scully and got up to pour her a coffee.
Scully sat, clutching the cup and breathing in its fragrance. 'Some one told me you couldn't get real coffee in New Zealand.' Her brother Bill actually. 'I'm so pleased they were wrong.'
Paula laughed. 'Most Americans think we run around in grass skirts and live in huts don't they?'
Scully nodded. 'Not many people know much about your country. But then most Americans don't know much about any country further away than Cuba.' What a terribly disloyal thing to say. She looked around, she kept expecting Mulder to come in from the garden. 'Where is everyone?'
Paula found her guest a bowl and pushed a selection of cereal packets across the table towards her. 'Brad's at my mother's. He goes around there on Sunday to mow her lawns and do other chores. She over pays and over feeds him and they're both happy. Davy's still in bed. We won't see him until lunch time.' She held up the paper so Scully could see the headline; "Police Arrest Suspect for Santa Parade Murder". Her face wasn't happy. 'Rod hasn't come home yet. He won't for a while.'
'What? What's wrong.'
'It's the wrong man. Rod rang last night, about three. I'm surprised you didn't hear the phone.'
Scully shook her head. 'I never heard a thing. What did he say?'
'They man they caught. It was a custody dispute. He was trying to take his daughter away from her mother. He wasn't the man.' Her face was sad. 'Another little girl disappeared last night.'
Scully's heart sank. 'No. What happened?'
'She wasn't at the concert, she was at the circus. A ten year old. She left the tent during the second half to go and get an ice cream and never came back. Her mother started looking for her after about fifteen minutes and there was no sign. They'd had a bit of a row apparently so she wasn't too concerned at first. She thought she'd run off to sulk. She asked the circus people if they'd seen her, but wouldn't let anyone phone the police until she hadn't turned up a good hour after the show was finished.'
'No,' Scully said again. 'She hadn't appeared at any of the concession stalls?'
'Apparently not.'
'Has Rod got anything to go on?'
'Not at three this morning he didn't.'
'Shit!'
'Mmm,' Paula agreed.
'Where's Mulder?'
Paula looked puzzled. 'He's still in bed isn't he?'
'No. He's up. Somewhere.'
They looked at each other, concern and suspicion dawning. 'Maybe he went for a walk,' Paula suggested. She got up and walked over to the interior door to the garage.
'Possible,' Scully watched her.
Paula opened the door, leant on the frame and chewed her lip. 'My car's gone.'
'Fuck!' Scully exploded. 'I am going to fucking kill him. Just you watch me.' She balled her fists and avoided throwing any of Paula's china. 'How the hell did he manage to drive?'
'I'll ring Rod.'
'Send him home. What the fuck good does he think he can be in his state? Fuck I knew he'd pull something. Ahhh!' she screamed in frustration. 'Jesus Christ Mulder you're a stupid shit.' She crashed her hands onto the tabletop and sank into a chair breathing hard. 'God, he's his own worst enemy.'
Paula put down the phone and looked at Scully as if she were a suspicious parcel. 'Apparently he's been at the circus and now he's out looking at the site Hinemoa was abducted from. Rod hasn't seen him since he went off to see the circus not long after he arrived at four this morning. He said he seemed alright then.'
Scully growled.
'I'm sorry Dana. He must have over heard my phone call from Rod.'
'Hmmph. Only Mulder would go out to offer assistance, right then and there.' She sighed. 'He's not still driving himself around is he?'
'No.' Paula could finally say something comforting. 'Rod's given him a car and driver.'
'Well that's something. Can you phone for a cab? I'm going to go and get him.' Not that he'd come, but at least she could try and stop him overdoing it.
Lincoln Rd
9.25 am
Constable Darryl Somers sincerely hoped that this would be the last time Inspector Stuart asked him to take a visitor home for him. He cast an anxious look over his passenger. Yep the guy definitely had a greenish tinge about him. Darryl had cleaned puke out of squad cars before and it wasn't a pleasant job, however, at least that had been in the back. This was a front seat passenger and Darryl had his bag and loads of papers scattered in the wheel well at the man's feet. Thank god they were nearly there.
At least Darryl knew who his passenger was this time. He looked at him again. One of the FBI's finest, at least according to the boss. And apparently the partner of the mad woman Darryl had driven to the boss' place earlier in the week. So okay, he was also the guy who had got hurt stopping the knife attack on that plane, so Darryl could cut him some slack, but several hours of playing taxi driver for him hadn't impressed Darryl much.
In amongst all of the hullabaloo of the kidnapping case, in the early hours when they'd done with running round like headless chickens and were starting to think sick thoughts about what might be happening to a missing little girl, the boss had told him to take Mr FBI here back to the circus and anywhere else he wanted to go.
So Darryl had greeted him brightly, prepared to be amazed by the way he worked. His reply had been a grunt, and things hadn't improved. Go here. Go there. And when they got there, what did the hot shot do? Nothing, that's what. He sat outside the circus tent for near on an hour just looking at the stars. He sat on the ground, knees drawn up rocking a little. He got up and walked right around the perimeter of the camp and then sat and rocked some more. When Darryl figured he must have grown roots he came back to the car and ordered him to take him to where the other little girl had been lifted from.
In Colombo Street he'd walked up and down the empty road, peering into shop doorways and walking along side streets and alleys. He spent a long time on St Asaph street where their only witness thought he'd seen her being taken. He had learned, as far as Darryl could see, diddly squat. The FBI's finest. Huh! It was all a big jerk off and a waste of his time.
Darryl had been pleased to see the back of him when they'd finally come back to the station. He'd taken the car back to the garage and was in the process of getting his gear out and signing it back in when he'd got the good news. So here he was driving out to Inspector Stuart's house in Halswell, again, and if the bastard puked in his car he'd never get home before it was time to sign back on tonight.
His passenger moaned. What the hell was wrong with him anyhow? Darryl wondered what had happened in the station. The man definitely hadn't looked this sick before. He hadn't looked particularly well, but now he looked positively awful. Darryl told himself he did feel mildly sympathetic but... Oh, they were here. Thank Christ!
He brought the big car to a stop outside the front door and gave the siren a brief parp to let Mrs Stuart know they were here. Cause one thing Darryl could tell, his passenger was going to need help. He went around and opened the passenger door and the guy gave him a look that would have had most people arrested for drug use. He got out shakily and Darryl gave a sigh of relief as Mrs Stuart opened the door. He turned the FBI man in her direction, got back in the car and for the second time that week, disappeared down the drive with what might be called undue haste.
Paula stared in astonishment at the sight of Fox Mulder weaving across the driveway towards her. If Dana had seemed near collapse when she'd arrived the other day, she had nothing on her partner. Paula couldn't understand how he could be standing. Then just as she formed that thought, suddenly he wasn't. Mulder's shaky foot missed the shallow step up to the entry. He toppled sideways; sideways to his left, and crashed into the wall.
Paula made a grab for him as he folded, catching the back of his sweatshirt enough to save his head from making contact with the terracotta tiles. Her mind worked fast. Years of nursing home work had taught her that once a patient was on the ground, you couldn't move him without help. Thankfully, she was nearly as tall as he was. He was still falling when moving from instinct she skewed herself under his chest, catching his weight across her back. Using the momentum of his fall she heaved them upright and carried/dragged him inside to the first refuge that offered, the recliner chair in the family room. Fox flopped, boneless, semi conscious and moaning as she pushed the seat back down and flung out the foot-rest.
Hell, these visitors were proving to be hard work!
She took a shaky breath and looked at her patient. He was obviously in agony, his short panting breaths attesting to his distress. And he looked extremely ill. Reaching for him she felt his forehead, he was cool, cold actually and clammy. His pulse was racing and erratic. She had no way of taking a blood pressure but could tell it would be low. 'Fox,' she said gently. 'Fox, can you hear me.'
'Uh,' a slight nod.
'Where are your pills?'
'Bed.' A shuddery breath. 'Forgot them.'
That might explain why he felt so bad. His arm had probably being feeling worse and worse for hours now. Long periods of pain could be debilitating. 'I'll get them. You stay here.'
'Sick,' he mumbled, making a sudden desperate attempt to get out of the chair.
'You stay there. I'll get something.' It was a close call but she got a bucket under his chin before he heaved. He had nothing to bring up except bad station house coffee, but that was painful enough. She thought he'd passed out after that, but when she brought the codeine, he roused enough to hold two under his tongue until they dissolved.
She wiped his tear stained face before tucking him up with two blankets and his arm carefully supported on a pillow across his chest. Fox Mulder was very high maintenance, she could see that. She could see why Dana was a little ambivalent.
'Scully,' the patient breathed as he sank into sleep.
'Oh dear,' Paula sighed. 'What are we going to do about you?'