The Domino Effect-Part 3
Headers and disclaimers in Part 1
Skinner walked briskly into the ER treatment room
that held Dana Scully. "I just came from Mulder's
room. He's awake, Scully."
"Thank God." Though still pale, Scully looked much
better than she had a few hours earlier. She'd had
some fluids and a little more sleep since they'd
arrived.
"You were both dehydrated, Mulder much more severely
than you," Skinner explained.
"He vomited at least twenty times. I lost count
sometime after five this morning. I should have
gotten him to the hospital sooner." Guilt was
written all over her tired face, and tears threatened
to fall when she dwelled too much on the state her
partner was in.
"You were both terribly ill. I doubt that either of
you was thinking straight."
"I knew he was bad but . . ."
"Scully! That's enough! Stop beating yourself up
over this. You did the best you could. Just be
thankful that I was able to get an earlier flight."
"How is he?" Scully asked wearily.
"Very weak, but the vomiting seems to have stopped.
They want to keep him on IV fluids for another six
hours at least and keep him under observation. If he
does all right and his blood work is normal, he may
be released later," Skinner reported.
"I expected them to admit him."
"I thought they would admit both of you, but the
doctor said that you can leave as soon as you finish
this IV."
"Good. That will give me some time to rest before
Mulder gets back."
"You're still too weak to take care of yourself,
Scully," Skinner pointed out.
"Well, someone will have to keep an eye on him. You
know how he is."
"I plan on taking care of both of you."
"But sir, you need to prepare for the conference,"
Scully protested.
"I can look over my notes while you're resting, and
the hotel will provide a nurse if necessary," Skinner
informed her.
"Well, they should. It's the hotel's fault we're in
this mess. How many others are ill?"
"Amazingly, only two. Only one pan of crab cakes was
involved, and I've been told that Agent Mulder ate
the majority of those."
Scully smiled ruefully, recalling his overfull plate
and the look of boyish devilment as he tore into them
with gusto. "Yeah, he said they were the best he'd
ever tasted."
The IV pump began to beep, signaling that it was
empty. "I'll get the nurse and see what we can do
about getting you out of here."
"Thank you. I'd like to see Mulder before we leave."
"All right, but you'll need to make it a brief
visit," Skinner cautioned. "He needs plenty of rest.
He's really wasted after the night he had."
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Skinner pushed Scully's wheelchair into Mulder's
treatment room. He'd been moved onto a hospital bed
and was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula.
The nurse was in the process of removing the IV line
from his right arm, leaving the one in his left arm
in place. He still looked extremely ill, and Skinner
seriously wondered if he would be well enough to be
released later.
Mulder slowly turned his head in their direction.
"Scully? You okay?" He tried to reach out his hand
for her but found that he was too weak. Instead,
Scully took hold of his hand, rubbing along his thumb
in a comforting gesture,
"I'm better, Mulder. They're letting me go."
"She's going to the hotel to rest. They've arranged
to let us have a three bedroom suite, so I'll be able
to keep an eye on the two of you a little easier,"
Skinner reported.
"I can take care of Scully, sir," Mulder said weakly.
"Yeah?" Skinner questioned. "And who's going to take
care of you?"
"I'll be fine, sir," he insisted.
"Get some rest, Mulder," the AD advised. "I'll be
back in a few hours to see how you're doing."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I can't believe they released you, Mulder. You're
as weak as a kitten," Skinner observed as he held on
to his agent in an effort to keep him from falling to
the floor of the elevator.
Mulder grunted, concentrating on his next breath for
the moment. He was able to speak in a few seconds.
"No more vomiting, blood work improved, no reason to
keep me, sir," Mulder gasped, holding onto the hand-
rail for dear life. "No beds available."
The elevator stopped at their floor. "Come on.
We're just a few doors down."
"I can make it."
Skinner and Mulder lurched through the door startling
Scully who was resting on the couch. She jumped up
and Skinner deposited Mulder where she had been lying
seconds earlier.
Her partner immediately groaned, pulling his legs up
to his stomach. "What's wrong?" Scully asked,
sitting back down beside him.
"Stomach muscles hurt!" Mulder exclaimed. His eyes
were squeezed shut against the wave of pain that
assaulted him. He felt Scully's steadying hands on
his back and collapsed into her touch.
"That's normal after all of the vomiting you did.
I'm very surprised they discharged you."
"No beds," he managed to get out.
"What are his discharge instructions?" Scully
questioned, turning to Skinner, her hands still
rubbing soothing circles onto Mulder's stiff back.
"Basically the same as yours. Rest, small amounts of
fluids every half hour, return to the ER immediately
if symptoms return," Skinner read from the paper
before he showed it to Scully.
Mulder dozed off while they were talking. "They
should have admitted him," she sighed angrily,
gathering up the blanket that she'd been wrapped in a
few minutes earlier, gently spreading it over him.
"You're preaching to the choir, Agent Scully. We'll
just have to do the best we can. You need to get
into bed and rest yourself. I'll wake him up in
about half an hour and make sure he drinks a few sips
of water. Then I'll get him to bed."
"I can lie on the recliner and keep an eye on him if
you need to go over your notes."
"I fully intend to go over my notes while I'm waiting
to wake him up. Now, do you need any help getting to
your bedroom?"
"Uh, no, sir. Please wake me if you need any help."
"I'll keep that in mind, Agent Scully. Now, please
lie down in your room before you lose what little
strength you've gained back," Skinner insisted
gently.
"I'm going now, sir."
Mulder awakened shortly before Skinner had planned to
rouse him. "Thirsty," he rasped hoarsely.
"I'm going to fix some ice chips and pour a few sips
of water over them. You can chew or suck on the ice
after you drink the water." Skinner made his way to
the counter where the ice bucket was kept. "Do you
need any help sitting up?" He opened the small
refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
"Nah, I'm up. Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, grabbing his
stomach. "Muscles really hurt."
Skinner handed him the glass of ice and water.
"Would you like for me to call the hospital and see
if it's all right for you to take some Tylenol?"
"No, I'll be okay." He drank the water quickly.
"Good water. Thanks."
"You can have some more in another half hour. Let's
get you on your feet and into bed."
Skinner helped Mulder to his bed. It had been
terribly painful for the younger man to move. His
strained stomach muscles barely allowed him to
straighten up, and each step had been agony. He knew
that Mulder didn't want to make a fuss, but this was
one time when he could not abide by his wishes.
Grabbing the phone from its place on the end table,
Skinner called the front desk and asked of there was
a doctor on call. He was more than a little worried.
Half an hour later, Skinner had just delivered a
small amount of water to each agent when he heard a
soft knock on the door. He hurried to answer it and
was greeted by a lovely, young Hispanic woman
carrying the traditional, black doctor's bag.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Shelly Lamas, the physician on call."
"Yes, Dr. Lamas. Thanks for coming. Please come in.
I'm Walter Skinner. I believe we spoke earlier."
"Yes. You said your friend was in quite a bit of
pain?" she questioned.
"He's in a world of hurt right now. He's one of the
food poisoning victims. I think he vomited so much
that his stomach muscles are unbelievably sore."
"I see. May I examine him?"
"Right this way." Skinner brought her to Mulder's
room. "Mulder, this is Dr. Lamas. I called her to
see if she could prescribe something for the pain
you're having."
Mulder wearily nodded his acceptance, which gave
Skinner some concern. Normally, Mulder tried to keep
a safe distance away from doctors. The fact that he
gave in so easily led him to believe that the pain
must be excruciating.
"Dr. Lamas, I'll leave you to your examination. I'll
be in the living area if you need me."
Ten minutes later Dr. Lamas exited Mulder's room,
closing the door softly behind her. Skinner motioned
her to have a seat on the couch.
"I gave him an injection of Demerol and Phenergan so
he should sleep for a while. Quite frankly, Mr.
Skinner, I have trouble understanding why he was
discharged from the hospital."
"You're not the only one puzzled by that decision.
The hospital claims there were no available beds,"
Skinner explained, biting down his annoyance at that
decision.
"I see. They must have given him enough IV fluids to
bring his blood work up to a borderline acceptable
reading. He is very weak."
"I know, but is he doing all right for the time
being?"
"Yes, his condition is satisfactory, but barely. It
will take him several days to get over this. He's
asking about his partner, Miss Scully. I'd like to
examine her also."
"I'll see if she's awake." Skinner rapped lightly on
Scully's door then stuck his head in. After a few
seconds he motioned for the doctor to join him. "She
has some questions about Mulder also. She's a
qualified doctor in her own right, and more often
than not sees to her partner's medical care."
"I'll speak to her and see you again when I'm
finished." After a few minutes she was back with
Skinner. "Miss Scully is recovering nicely. I think
it would be safe for her to go on a clear, liquid
diet. Why don't you call the kitchen and have them
send up some broth, jello and tea? She's in much
better condition than her poor partner."
"She only had a small bite of the tainted food,"
Skinner explained.
"Lucky for her. I think she should be able to sit up
when she feels like it, but she should be careful not
to push herself."
"Now, that's easier said than done," Skinner grinned.
"I understand. I'm going to leave some pre-loaded
syringes with Demerol and Phenergan for Mr. Mulder.
Miss Scully, er, Doctor Scully assures me that she
can administer the injections when he awakens."
"Yes, I'm sure she can," Skinner agreed.
"Continue to give Mr. Mulder small amounts of water
when he awakens. Rest is a very important factor in
his recovery right now along with re-hydration. If
he doesn't experience any more vomiting, you may want
to start him on a clear, liquid diet at lunch
tomorrow."
"All right. The hotel is sending a private duty
nurse to stay with him tomorrow while I'm at the
conference. I'll be sure to tell her."
"I would like to examine Mr. Mulder again in the
morning, so I'll either speak to her or leave written
orders. Any questions?"
"No, Dr. Lamas, I think you've covered everything.
Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Not a problem, Mr. Skinner. I live here at the
hotel. Please do not hesitate to call if you need me
during the night. I can be here in minutes," the
doctor stated, shaking his hand as she turned to
leave.
"I'll keep that in mind," Skinner agreed, walking her
to the door.
Mulder awakened as soon as the painkillers began to
wear off. He was surprised to see Scully sitting in
a chair near the foot of the bed.
"Scully? How are you?" He tried to sit up but
quickly abandoned that idea when his stomach muscles
protested. "Damn it! Hurts like hell!"
"I can't imagine, Mulder. I'm a little sore myself,
but you must be suffering unbelievably."
"I'll be okay as long as you're better. You are
looking much better, by the way." That thought alone
comforted him despite his pain.
"Why, thank you, Mulder," she smiled, getting up to
sit beside him on the bed. "I even had a little
broth and jello a few hours ago." She took his left
hand in hers.
"I think I'll have to pass on that." He made a face
indicating his displeasure at the mention of food.
"Unfortunately, you're right. The doctor says maybe
you can try some broth for lunch. In the meantime,
have some water." She offered a glass of ice chips
with a little water to him. He started to sit up but
Scully pushed him back. "Let me hold the glass for
you."
Mulder didn't protest as he began to sip the water
through a straw that Scully had thoughtfully placed
there earlier. He kept sipping until only ice was
left. "More?"
"Sorry, Mulder, not right now. You can have the ice,
though. Do you think you can manage the glass?"
"I think so."
She gave it to him and he grabbed a few ice chips and
popped them into his mouth.
"How's the pain?"
"Let's talk about somethin' else," Mulder winced as
he crushed the ice chips in his mouth.
"That bad, huh?"
"Beyond bad."
"The doctor left another dose of Demerol and
Phenergan. Would you like for me to inject it?"
"Later. Tell me about this mornin', when Skinner
found us. I don't remember."
"Actually, there isn't much to tell, but he did jump
to the wrong conclusion when he saw you in my bed,"
Scully giggled.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. He went crazy for about ten seconds,
then when I nearly passed out and you didn't move, he
finally figured out that we were both extremely ill
and hadn't been doing the horizontal mambo."
"So, he went a little ballistic, huh?" The thought
that scene conjured up tickled him, but he didn't
dare laugh.
"You could say that."
"Damn! I always miss the good stuff. Urgh!"
"Mulder, you okay?"
"Mm, yeah, just a stomach cramp. They hit every now
and then. It'll pass. Just remove my head from my
body and that should cure the problem," he assured
her, handing the glass back. She ruffled his hair
gently.
"I'm going to get your pain medication. I'll give
you that injection, then you can rest," Scully
decided, getting up from her comfy place beside
Mulder.
"You too."
"Me too?" she questioned.
"You need to rest too."
"I will as soon as I give you the injection."
Mulder patted the bed beside him. "Plenty of room
here."
"You must be delirious," Scully commented.
"Oh?"
"To risk your life over Skinner's reaction, you're
either delirious, crazy, or both!"
"Well, it was worth a try."
"Oookaaay, I'll be right back with that injection."
When she returned she asked, "Which hip did the
doctor use earlier?"
"Uh, hip?"
"You know this has to go in your hip. I'm just
trying to keep one side from getting too sore, but if
you don't care . . ."
"All right, all right. The doctor put it in the left
one."
"Thank you. Can you roll onto your left side by
yourself?"
"Yeah, ow! Does hurt though. You trying to get into
my sweats, Agent Scully?" She grinned evilly as she
squirted air bubbles from the syringe. "Be gentle
with me."
"Always, Mulder."
Scully pulled down the waistband of his sweats and
swabbed the skin with an alcohol pad, injected him,
then swabbed the area again. "There you go." She
stifled a giggle that formed when she realized the
vulnerability of his current position. After
mentally admiring his nice ass, she pulled the
waistband back up and patted his bottom.
"Ooh, Scully, I'll give you five minutes to stop," he
moaned suggestively.
"In your dreams, Mulder. Skinner's getting ready to
turn in. He asked me to leave your door open, so
give a shout if you need anything."
"All right, if I must. You're going to rest too,
right?"
"Yes, I am. I've only been up for around fifteen
minutes and I'm already done in," she sighed wearily.
"C'mere."
"Yes?"
Mulder took her right hand in his and stroked her
thumb. His eyes took on a serious gaze. "Scully,
I'm really sorry about this."
"For what? The food poisoning?"
He nodded yes.
"And how was that your fault?"
"You wouldn't have eaten any of the crab cake if I
hadn't insisted."
"I don't seem to recall being tied down, or having it
forced down my throat. You couldn't have known. Put
the blame where it belongs. The kitchen was the
guilty party on this one."
"'Kay." He looked down and watched his fingers as
they moved across her palm, sighing.
"Mulder, I mean it. This was not your fault. They
are looking into the crab meat, lobster, or the eggs
used to make the batter."
"Ugh, thanks for that picture," he moaned.
"Sorry. Still queasy?"
"Some."
"Mulder, the Phenergan should help that, but if it
doesn't, let us know," Scully instructed.
"I will. Indian Guide's honor," he promised, weakly
making the sign.
"You're still slightly dehydrated and your body can't
take too much of that. It could eventually cause a
systemic organ shutdown, coma, or even death. It's
nothing to fool around with, Mulder, so please let us
know if you start vomiting again," she pleaded.
"I promise"
"Good." She leaned down and kissed his forehead and
ruffled his hair. "Get some sleep."
"You too."
"I'm heading for bed right now," she said, reaching
for the door. She took another lingering look at him
and satisfied that he was indeed resting, she made
her way to her room.
Later, Skinner was awakened from a fitful sleep when
he heard a dull thump in the room next to him. It
took a few seconds to process it, but when he did he
leapt out of bed and shot across the room. "Mulder!"
End Part 3
Headers and disclaimers in Part 1
Skinner walked briskly into the ER treatment room
that held Dana Scully. "I just came from Mulder's
room. He's awake, Scully."
"Thank God." Though still pale, Scully looked much
better than she had a few hours earlier. She'd had
some fluids and a little more sleep since they'd
arrived.
"You were both dehydrated, Mulder much more severely
than you," Skinner explained.
"He vomited at least twenty times. I lost count
sometime after five this morning. I should have
gotten him to the hospital sooner." Guilt was
written all over her tired face, and tears threatened
to fall when she dwelled too much on the state her
partner was in.
"You were both terribly ill. I doubt that either of
you was thinking straight."
"I knew he was bad but . . ."
"Scully! That's enough! Stop beating yourself up
over this. You did the best you could. Just be
thankful that I was able to get an earlier flight."
"How is he?" Scully asked wearily.
"Very weak, but the vomiting seems to have stopped.
They want to keep him on IV fluids for another six
hours at least and keep him under observation. If he
does all right and his blood work is normal, he may
be released later," Skinner reported.
"I expected them to admit him."
"I thought they would admit both of you, but the
doctor said that you can leave as soon as you finish
this IV."
"Good. That will give me some time to rest before
Mulder gets back."
"You're still too weak to take care of yourself,
Scully," Skinner pointed out.
"Well, someone will have to keep an eye on him. You
know how he is."
"I plan on taking care of both of you."
"But sir, you need to prepare for the conference,"
Scully protested.
"I can look over my notes while you're resting, and
the hotel will provide a nurse if necessary," Skinner
informed her.
"Well, they should. It's the hotel's fault we're in
this mess. How many others are ill?"
"Amazingly, only two. Only one pan of crab cakes was
involved, and I've been told that Agent Mulder ate
the majority of those."
Scully smiled ruefully, recalling his overfull plate
and the look of boyish devilment as he tore into them
with gusto. "Yeah, he said they were the best he'd
ever tasted."
The IV pump began to beep, signaling that it was
empty. "I'll get the nurse and see what we can do
about getting you out of here."
"Thank you. I'd like to see Mulder before we leave."
"All right, but you'll need to make it a brief
visit," Skinner cautioned. "He needs plenty of rest.
He's really wasted after the night he had."
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Skinner pushed Scully's wheelchair into Mulder's
treatment room. He'd been moved onto a hospital bed
and was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula.
The nurse was in the process of removing the IV line
from his right arm, leaving the one in his left arm
in place. He still looked extremely ill, and Skinner
seriously wondered if he would be well enough to be
released later.
Mulder slowly turned his head in their direction.
"Scully? You okay?" He tried to reach out his hand
for her but found that he was too weak. Instead,
Scully took hold of his hand, rubbing along his thumb
in a comforting gesture,
"I'm better, Mulder. They're letting me go."
"She's going to the hotel to rest. They've arranged
to let us have a three bedroom suite, so I'll be able
to keep an eye on the two of you a little easier,"
Skinner reported.
"I can take care of Scully, sir," Mulder said weakly.
"Yeah?" Skinner questioned. "And who's going to take
care of you?"
"I'll be fine, sir," he insisted.
"Get some rest, Mulder," the AD advised. "I'll be
back in a few hours to see how you're doing."
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"I can't believe they released you, Mulder. You're
as weak as a kitten," Skinner observed as he held on
to his agent in an effort to keep him from falling to
the floor of the elevator.
Mulder grunted, concentrating on his next breath for
the moment. He was able to speak in a few seconds.
"No more vomiting, blood work improved, no reason to
keep me, sir," Mulder gasped, holding onto the hand-
rail for dear life. "No beds available."
The elevator stopped at their floor. "Come on.
We're just a few doors down."
"I can make it."
Skinner and Mulder lurched through the door startling
Scully who was resting on the couch. She jumped up
and Skinner deposited Mulder where she had been lying
seconds earlier.
Her partner immediately groaned, pulling his legs up
to his stomach. "What's wrong?" Scully asked,
sitting back down beside him.
"Stomach muscles hurt!" Mulder exclaimed. His eyes
were squeezed shut against the wave of pain that
assaulted him. He felt Scully's steadying hands on
his back and collapsed into her touch.
"That's normal after all of the vomiting you did.
I'm very surprised they discharged you."
"No beds," he managed to get out.
"What are his discharge instructions?" Scully
questioned, turning to Skinner, her hands still
rubbing soothing circles onto Mulder's stiff back.
"Basically the same as yours. Rest, small amounts of
fluids every half hour, return to the ER immediately
if symptoms return," Skinner read from the paper
before he showed it to Scully.
Mulder dozed off while they were talking. "They
should have admitted him," she sighed angrily,
gathering up the blanket that she'd been wrapped in a
few minutes earlier, gently spreading it over him.
"You're preaching to the choir, Agent Scully. We'll
just have to do the best we can. You need to get
into bed and rest yourself. I'll wake him up in
about half an hour and make sure he drinks a few sips
of water. Then I'll get him to bed."
"I can lie on the recliner and keep an eye on him if
you need to go over your notes."
"I fully intend to go over my notes while I'm waiting
to wake him up. Now, do you need any help getting to
your bedroom?"
"Uh, no, sir. Please wake me if you need any help."
"I'll keep that in mind, Agent Scully. Now, please
lie down in your room before you lose what little
strength you've gained back," Skinner insisted
gently.
"I'm going now, sir."
Mulder awakened shortly before Skinner had planned to
rouse him. "Thirsty," he rasped hoarsely.
"I'm going to fix some ice chips and pour a few sips
of water over them. You can chew or suck on the ice
after you drink the water." Skinner made his way to
the counter where the ice bucket was kept. "Do you
need any help sitting up?" He opened the small
refrigerator and took out a bottle of water.
"Nah, I'm up. Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, grabbing his
stomach. "Muscles really hurt."
Skinner handed him the glass of ice and water.
"Would you like for me to call the hospital and see
if it's all right for you to take some Tylenol?"
"No, I'll be okay." He drank the water quickly.
"Good water. Thanks."
"You can have some more in another half hour. Let's
get you on your feet and into bed."
Skinner helped Mulder to his bed. It had been
terribly painful for the younger man to move. His
strained stomach muscles barely allowed him to
straighten up, and each step had been agony. He knew
that Mulder didn't want to make a fuss, but this was
one time when he could not abide by his wishes.
Grabbing the phone from its place on the end table,
Skinner called the front desk and asked of there was
a doctor on call. He was more than a little worried.
Half an hour later, Skinner had just delivered a
small amount of water to each agent when he heard a
soft knock on the door. He hurried to answer it and
was greeted by a lovely, young Hispanic woman
carrying the traditional, black doctor's bag.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Shelly Lamas, the physician on call."
"Yes, Dr. Lamas. Thanks for coming. Please come in.
I'm Walter Skinner. I believe we spoke earlier."
"Yes. You said your friend was in quite a bit of
pain?" she questioned.
"He's in a world of hurt right now. He's one of the
food poisoning victims. I think he vomited so much
that his stomach muscles are unbelievably sore."
"I see. May I examine him?"
"Right this way." Skinner brought her to Mulder's
room. "Mulder, this is Dr. Lamas. I called her to
see if she could prescribe something for the pain
you're having."
Mulder wearily nodded his acceptance, which gave
Skinner some concern. Normally, Mulder tried to keep
a safe distance away from doctors. The fact that he
gave in so easily led him to believe that the pain
must be excruciating.
"Dr. Lamas, I'll leave you to your examination. I'll
be in the living area if you need me."
Ten minutes later Dr. Lamas exited Mulder's room,
closing the door softly behind her. Skinner motioned
her to have a seat on the couch.
"I gave him an injection of Demerol and Phenergan so
he should sleep for a while. Quite frankly, Mr.
Skinner, I have trouble understanding why he was
discharged from the hospital."
"You're not the only one puzzled by that decision.
The hospital claims there were no available beds,"
Skinner explained, biting down his annoyance at that
decision.
"I see. They must have given him enough IV fluids to
bring his blood work up to a borderline acceptable
reading. He is very weak."
"I know, but is he doing all right for the time
being?"
"Yes, his condition is satisfactory, but barely. It
will take him several days to get over this. He's
asking about his partner, Miss Scully. I'd like to
examine her also."
"I'll see if she's awake." Skinner rapped lightly on
Scully's door then stuck his head in. After a few
seconds he motioned for the doctor to join him. "She
has some questions about Mulder also. She's a
qualified doctor in her own right, and more often
than not sees to her partner's medical care."
"I'll speak to her and see you again when I'm
finished." After a few minutes she was back with
Skinner. "Miss Scully is recovering nicely. I think
it would be safe for her to go on a clear, liquid
diet. Why don't you call the kitchen and have them
send up some broth, jello and tea? She's in much
better condition than her poor partner."
"She only had a small bite of the tainted food,"
Skinner explained.
"Lucky for her. I think she should be able to sit up
when she feels like it, but she should be careful not
to push herself."
"Now, that's easier said than done," Skinner grinned.
"I understand. I'm going to leave some pre-loaded
syringes with Demerol and Phenergan for Mr. Mulder.
Miss Scully, er, Doctor Scully assures me that she
can administer the injections when he awakens."
"Yes, I'm sure she can," Skinner agreed.
"Continue to give Mr. Mulder small amounts of water
when he awakens. Rest is a very important factor in
his recovery right now along with re-hydration. If
he doesn't experience any more vomiting, you may want
to start him on a clear, liquid diet at lunch
tomorrow."
"All right. The hotel is sending a private duty
nurse to stay with him tomorrow while I'm at the
conference. I'll be sure to tell her."
"I would like to examine Mr. Mulder again in the
morning, so I'll either speak to her or leave written
orders. Any questions?"
"No, Dr. Lamas, I think you've covered everything.
Thank you for coming so quickly."
"Not a problem, Mr. Skinner. I live here at the
hotel. Please do not hesitate to call if you need me
during the night. I can be here in minutes," the
doctor stated, shaking his hand as she turned to
leave.
"I'll keep that in mind," Skinner agreed, walking her
to the door.
Mulder awakened as soon as the painkillers began to
wear off. He was surprised to see Scully sitting in
a chair near the foot of the bed.
"Scully? How are you?" He tried to sit up but
quickly abandoned that idea when his stomach muscles
protested. "Damn it! Hurts like hell!"
"I can't imagine, Mulder. I'm a little sore myself,
but you must be suffering unbelievably."
"I'll be okay as long as you're better. You are
looking much better, by the way." That thought alone
comforted him despite his pain.
"Why, thank you, Mulder," she smiled, getting up to
sit beside him on the bed. "I even had a little
broth and jello a few hours ago." She took his left
hand in hers.
"I think I'll have to pass on that." He made a face
indicating his displeasure at the mention of food.
"Unfortunately, you're right. The doctor says maybe
you can try some broth for lunch. In the meantime,
have some water." She offered a glass of ice chips
with a little water to him. He started to sit up but
Scully pushed him back. "Let me hold the glass for
you."
Mulder didn't protest as he began to sip the water
through a straw that Scully had thoughtfully placed
there earlier. He kept sipping until only ice was
left. "More?"
"Sorry, Mulder, not right now. You can have the ice,
though. Do you think you can manage the glass?"
"I think so."
She gave it to him and he grabbed a few ice chips and
popped them into his mouth.
"How's the pain?"
"Let's talk about somethin' else," Mulder winced as
he crushed the ice chips in his mouth.
"That bad, huh?"
"Beyond bad."
"The doctor left another dose of Demerol and
Phenergan. Would you like for me to inject it?"
"Later. Tell me about this mornin', when Skinner
found us. I don't remember."
"Actually, there isn't much to tell, but he did jump
to the wrong conclusion when he saw you in my bed,"
Scully giggled.
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, really. He went crazy for about ten seconds,
then when I nearly passed out and you didn't move, he
finally figured out that we were both extremely ill
and hadn't been doing the horizontal mambo."
"So, he went a little ballistic, huh?" The thought
that scene conjured up tickled him, but he didn't
dare laugh.
"You could say that."
"Damn! I always miss the good stuff. Urgh!"
"Mulder, you okay?"
"Mm, yeah, just a stomach cramp. They hit every now
and then. It'll pass. Just remove my head from my
body and that should cure the problem," he assured
her, handing the glass back. She ruffled his hair
gently.
"I'm going to get your pain medication. I'll give
you that injection, then you can rest," Scully
decided, getting up from her comfy place beside
Mulder.
"You too."
"Me too?" she questioned.
"You need to rest too."
"I will as soon as I give you the injection."
Mulder patted the bed beside him. "Plenty of room
here."
"You must be delirious," Scully commented.
"Oh?"
"To risk your life over Skinner's reaction, you're
either delirious, crazy, or both!"
"Well, it was worth a try."
"Oookaaay, I'll be right back with that injection."
When she returned she asked, "Which hip did the
doctor use earlier?"
"Uh, hip?"
"You know this has to go in your hip. I'm just
trying to keep one side from getting too sore, but if
you don't care . . ."
"All right, all right. The doctor put it in the left
one."
"Thank you. Can you roll onto your left side by
yourself?"
"Yeah, ow! Does hurt though. You trying to get into
my sweats, Agent Scully?" She grinned evilly as she
squirted air bubbles from the syringe. "Be gentle
with me."
"Always, Mulder."
Scully pulled down the waistband of his sweats and
swabbed the skin with an alcohol pad, injected him,
then swabbed the area again. "There you go." She
stifled a giggle that formed when she realized the
vulnerability of his current position. After
mentally admiring his nice ass, she pulled the
waistband back up and patted his bottom.
"Ooh, Scully, I'll give you five minutes to stop," he
moaned suggestively.
"In your dreams, Mulder. Skinner's getting ready to
turn in. He asked me to leave your door open, so
give a shout if you need anything."
"All right, if I must. You're going to rest too,
right?"
"Yes, I am. I've only been up for around fifteen
minutes and I'm already done in," she sighed wearily.
"C'mere."
"Yes?"
Mulder took her right hand in his and stroked her
thumb. His eyes took on a serious gaze. "Scully,
I'm really sorry about this."
"For what? The food poisoning?"
He nodded yes.
"And how was that your fault?"
"You wouldn't have eaten any of the crab cake if I
hadn't insisted."
"I don't seem to recall being tied down, or having it
forced down my throat. You couldn't have known. Put
the blame where it belongs. The kitchen was the
guilty party on this one."
"'Kay." He looked down and watched his fingers as
they moved across her palm, sighing.
"Mulder, I mean it. This was not your fault. They
are looking into the crab meat, lobster, or the eggs
used to make the batter."
"Ugh, thanks for that picture," he moaned.
"Sorry. Still queasy?"
"Some."
"Mulder, the Phenergan should help that, but if it
doesn't, let us know," Scully instructed.
"I will. Indian Guide's honor," he promised, weakly
making the sign.
"You're still slightly dehydrated and your body can't
take too much of that. It could eventually cause a
systemic organ shutdown, coma, or even death. It's
nothing to fool around with, Mulder, so please let us
know if you start vomiting again," she pleaded.
"I promise"
"Good." She leaned down and kissed his forehead and
ruffled his hair. "Get some sleep."
"You too."
"I'm heading for bed right now," she said, reaching
for the door. She took another lingering look at him
and satisfied that he was indeed resting, she made
her way to her room.
Later, Skinner was awakened from a fitful sleep when
he heard a dull thump in the room next to him. It
took a few seconds to process it, but when he did he
leapt out of bed and shot across the room. "Mulder!"
End Part 3