Title: A Man Who…: Sweet Dreams
Author: DC Luder
Disclaimer: FM, DS, MS, WS belong to them crazy CC and Co. out in LA.
Summary: And Mulder's up to bat in this round
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I smiled softly as I stared at the bedroom door. I could just picture the baseball wallpaper, army man toys and dirty sneakers. If only Scully and I hadn't been separated, perhaps we would have been able to decorate our own child's room together. I touched her hand and stood. She followed suite and said, "Mulder, I think it would be best if you... Left for the night. Tomorrow, I'm sure Dave will be cooled off… I'll explain things to him."
After a little nod, I replied, "It would probably be a bit quieter around here if I went to the Holiday Inn, huh?"
"Do you have a room?"
I nodded again, "Yeah. I wasn't even planning on any of this. I just… I actually didn't even have a plan, to tell the truth."
"You were just going to sit out on my street in your car all night? What if I hadn't been home?"
"Well, my jaw wouldn't hurt, for one thing," I frowned as she slapped my shoulder. Even with the years we've been separated, we hadn't lost the humor. It was just like old times, her doctoring me up. How many times had I stumbled into her masterfully decorated apartment, bruised or sick or drunk? Too many, far too many.
As we made our way to the stairs, I looked back at the bedroom door. If only we hadn't been separated…
Miraculously, we avoided seeing Dave on the way out. She grabbed my coat and handed it to me. As I put it on, she slipped hers on as well as a pair of shoes, "I'll walk you out."
"Fine by me, G-woman."
We walked silently down the street towards my vehicle. However when we reached it, neither one of us wanted part our ways. Her hand touched my face softly, "Mulder..."
"Yes, Scully," I replied as she hesitated.
"I… In the kitchen…"
"I'm sorry," we said in unison. She giggled a bit before regaining her composure.
"No, Scully. I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that. You're married. It was wrong of me."
"Mulder, I didn't refuse you did I?"
She had gotten me with that one, "No, but still…"
"Excuses, excuses, Mulder. Some things never change."
"No, but you don't kiss as good as you used to."
Her face grew scarlet and I knew it wasn't because she was cold. I kissed her forehead softly, "We'll talk tomorrow, okay. Breakfast, my treat."
"You? Pay for a meal? I guess some things do change."
I watched her step to the curb as I got in the car. Before I could respond to my mind's orders to jump out and grab her to take her away with me, I waved and made my way down the street. As I looked at my face in the rear view mirror, I muttered, "Way to go, Mulder. Real charmer you are."
After ten minutes of driving the dark streets in silence, my cell phone rang from my coat pocket. Keeping one hand on the wheel, I fetched and answered, "Mulder."
"Well?" a stern baritone voice asked.
I smiled. Skinner, my fairy godmother…. "Well, what?"
"Was she home?"
"Yes. As was her slumbering son and her punch-happy husband."
I heard him take a quick breath, "What do you mean by punch-happy? Was he not pleased to see you?"
My blinker clicked as I turned onto the main drag of the town. Cute little antique shops and café windows were darkened and marked with "Sorry, we're closed" signs.
"Not really," I said as I thought of the look on his face when he caught us in the kitchen, embraced in ways that FBI partners, even ex-FBI partners were not supposed to. I decided not to tell Skinner of our reunion's details and said, "He was a little perturbed."
He sighed be fore asking, "Did you see her son?"
"Nope. He was in bed. Scully and I have a breakfast date planned tomorrow. So we can talk."
Silence fell over us. I began to question if the line had been disconnected as I pulled into the parking lot of the ever-vacant hotel. "Mulder, just be easy with her. She faced a lot of problems after you left."
"I didn't leave, Skinner," I said coolly as the engine was cut, "I didn't decide to be abducted. It wasn't my choice!"
"Mulder, calm down. It was no one's choice. No one's fault."
I rested my forehead against the steering wheel with my eyes closed. I pictured Scully's tear-stricken face when I told her about Oregon and how I was to go with Skinner and not her. For her safety. And just moments ago, as she cried into my body, years of pain that I had given her pouring out of her.
It was no one's fault.
It was mine.
We said good-bye to one another and he made me promise to call him after meeting with Scully. I shut the phone off, slid into my pocket and then retrieved my bag from the rear seat. As I walked to the entrance, fatigue settled quickly in my joints. I had been rather awake all day with anxiety and worry, but now with the first hurdle down, I was near exhausted.
The teenaged-boy at the front desk had been watching the news as I approached him. After clearing my throat several times, he took notice of my presence and asked, "Yeah?"
I smiled as nicely as I could at the moment, "I had reservations for a single room. Fox Mulder."
I tapped at the keyboard and stared at it confusion, "Uh, no."
"Uh, yes."
"According to the computer…"
"According to the phone call I made last week, I have a room. You billed my credit card; therefore I am a paying customer. Therefore I have a reservation for a single room," his mouth parted as if the rebut and I sneered, "And don't you even say 'But the computer…' or God as my witness…"
"Is there something wrong?" a soft feminine voice arose from behind me.
I jerked and looked at her. Five-ten, maybe one-twenty with long dark curls that bobbed on wide shoulders. Hourglass figure that reminded me of one too many women of my life. She had on a dark pantsuit and black leather pumps that added another inch to her slender frame. As I looked at the black pinstriped lapel, I read her gold embossed nametag: Lynda Harper: Hotel Manager.
I stammered before the kid could, "Yes. I paid in advance for a room and now it isn't available."
"Hmm," she uttered softly as she walked over to the desk. She tapped on the keys and smiled, "There are no single rooms, but I can offer you the Jacuzzi suite, honeymoon suite or the family suite."
I leaned over the burgundy and hunter green counter and put on my best puppy-dog face, "Ms. Harper. I don't have a family, I'm not a newlywed and I sure don't have anybody to share the water jets with. All I want is the room I paid for."
She smiled and licked her lips. The boy sat completely oblivious and had decided to return his limited attention to the TV. "Well, Mr… What was it again?"
"Mulder. Fox Mulder."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Mulder. The hotel is overcrowded as it is. I will offer you a reduced rate, since you have already paid."
I sighed, my knees aching with restlessness, "Fine. I'll be here a week."
"Which suit, did you want?"
I growled, "Jacuzzi."
One hour and thirty minutes later, I was soaking in the hot water with half the mini-bar emptied with bottle strewn about the room. I had repositioned the TV so I could soak and take in some serious HBO, since I was too cheap to pay for it at home. All of the horrid troubles that were feeding on my brain were slowly loosened and floated away with the steam. No Skinner. No taxes. No worry about paying rent or utilities on my meager consultant's fee living. No sore jaw or kinked neck form driving.
No scars on my body that I didn't know the origin of.
No Scully crying because of me.
Just hot water, bubbles and brew.
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"I made this!"
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