Title: Things That Make Mulder Wonder or The Enigma That Is Dana Scully
Category: X-Files (MSR)
Summary: A whole pile of post-eps for episodes in season 6 and 7 (not necessarily every episode), revolving around Mulder's thoughts, particularly about Scully.
Rating: G (I'm pretty sure) - this might change per chapter
Spoilers: Spoilers up to seasons 6 and 7. You'll know if you read the title of each chapter which episode it pertains to.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.
Here is another installment! Sorry for the delay. I know I mentioned I wrote them some time ago, but they do need some editing. Let's just say the younger me didn't have the same maturity the me now does... not that that is saying a lot!
Thank you for all your feedback, and I really do love hearing it, so please, if you like it, let me know! If you hate it... let me know why, maybe we can figure something out ;)
Monday
When he woke he realized that not having a bed might have been more convenient than he realized. He indulged in a brief moment of paranoia: whoever brought him the waterbed probably knew this would happen, all part of the conspiracy to bring him down. With a fine and repair bill in the thousands, it was best that he cash in his paycheque rather than dip into his savings.
Little did he know that the day would only get worse.
He always felt déjà vu as a passing thing, like days previous when Scully wore a pink shirt under her usual black suit. It was so bright and fit so snugly and held her curves so perfectly that he had to comment that she looked like one of the cheerleaders of his high school basketball team, only much shorter. Unfortunately she took it the wrong way and threw a paperclip at him. He had the strangest sensation that they'd had the same interaction before.
"If we'd had this discussion before, I would have thrown something much larger at you this time," she said, and he briefly wondered if his feeling of déjà vu was a warning not to bring up her tiny stature.
However, waking up to the wet sheets, seeing her walk into the office as he signed his cheque, the missed meeting… it was all so familiar. Right down to the thrill he got when her shirt rode up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the soft, white skin of her belly. It threw him off, and he reached for her shoulder to touch her, to orient himself when everything seemed a little off. She was his touchstone.
Walking to the bank was ominous. Seeing the familiar woman in the car was overpowering. As he searched his mind, looking around and the extremely familiar setting, four words came to mind – he's got a bomb, he's got a bomb, he's got a bomb – and it all fell into place. The young man with the ill-fitting coat and the scruffy look had a bomb. And he wondered if he would die without Scully ever knowing that he meant she looked wonderful in the pink shirt, and that the tiny glimpse of midriff she bared when she lifted her arm to check her watch was enough to give him pleasant dreams for days.
He wouldn't die, he resolved. Scully could save him.
He never wished it to go down the way it did. He regretted calling Scully in when Bernard turned his attention to her. He regretted it when she – being the dutiful federal agent that she was, not to mention a selfless, compassionate person – stepped in front of Pam to shield her from harm. He regretted it when Pam was shot, but not when Bernard dropped to his knees, stunned at the loss of his love. Mulder could relate. When Scully was shot it brought him to his knees also.
"How did you know, Mulder?" Scully asked after their debriefing. Of course none of the agents or the police believed his story that it wasn't a strange "second sense" or déjà vu that tipped him off, that the events were really repeating themselves until the right thing changed.
He shrugged at his partner, knowing she would be least of all to believe his theory. "I had a strange sensation of déjà vu."
"You told Bernard that he was dooming his girlfriend to repeat this day over and over."
Leave it to Scully to need details, the evidence. The who, what, where, when and why were all covered. That left how.
"I don't know why I said that. I just felt… I could see it in my mind, Scully. Pam, Bernard, you, me… that stupid waterbed of mine… I saw it in my head, different scenarios, all ending with a bomb. That was the trigger word. Bomb."
"I can't believe it."
He wondered if she realized how often she said that to him.
"You don't have to believe it, Scully. The fact is we stopped it. Or, I should say, Pam stopped it. She knew what was going to happen so she saved herself."
"So, what, she was destined to die? Any other outcome would result in a… a do-over?"
"Sure. A cosmic do-over. It's a popular theory, you know, a lot of eastern philosophies believe in the do-over. Hinduism teaches that a person will be reincarnated over and over, until he or she can achieve the pinnacle of enlightenment, and only then can they move on to the next realm."
"That's not the same, Mulder."
"No, maybe not. But Pam was able to move on."
"It's tragic."
"I think living that moment over and over, and the helpless feeling of not knowing how to fix things is more tragic."
His partner seemed to take that in, and before the mood could become too sombre, he asked his partner out for a late lunch.
"My treat," he said.
"Why not? Hey, Mulder," Scully said, as they headed out, "since when do you have a waterbed?"
He wondered the exact same thing. Looking at her, he also wondered if she'd be interested in knowing about the mirror installed right above the bed.