"I'll call you. I'll call you. Oh my god I said I'll call you." Dana Scully fell back onto the couch and cursed herself again. It had been two days since she had uttered the cliché but it still haunted her and she still hadn't called.
After the flight from DC, the torturous journey in his car to his apartment and then the final straw that made her push the panic button. The kiss that she could still feel pressing against her lips and shoulders, the phantom fingers she could feel circling her waist beneath her top and the welling of desire that bubbled in her own chest.
With a sigh her hand reached out to the phone and she gazed at the speed dial number two that held his home number. Her index finger hovered over it threateningly before she slammed the receiver back into it's cradle and fell back onto the couch.
"I'll call you!" she yelled out covering her face with a pillow and letting out a muffled cry. "Or maybe I wont…" She sat up and threw the cushion to the floor. Standing away from the couch she made her way into the kitchen and switched on the kettle. It was just past twelve and she was still wearing a black and red pair of checked cotton pyjama bottoms and a grey loose long sleeve. She had pulled her hair back into a ponytail without brushing it and watched the phone. Leaning back against the counter with her arms folded across her chest she stared at it willing it to ring, willing him to call her, to knock on her door with some food, beer and she even settle for a copy of "Caddyshack" she admitted to herself with a smile.
But the phone didn't ring and there was no knock on the door. When the kettle had boiled she poured herself a strong coffee and went back to the couch. Fixing her glasses on and turning her back to the phone she threw herself into her research working on her laptop till nearly four. The hours seemed to pass deliberately slowly but she ignored the urge to reach for the phone and tried to focus having to retype most of her work when her wandering thoughts found their way onto the screen.
She slapped the laptop closed and went into the fridge to rustle up some dinner. She was stirring a pot of rice when the phone rang ominously behind her. Wiping her hands on a dishtowel she walked over and picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Agent Scully. It's Skinner."
"Hello sir." Relief washed over her with a wave of disappointment.
"This might seem like an odd question…but is Agent Mulder there?" he asked carefully.
"Mulder. No he's not."
"I can't seem to get hold of him."
"Is there a problem sir?" Scully asked walking into the kitchen with the cordless phone trapped between her ear and shoulder and took the pot off the hob.
"He left a message on my machine late last night. It wasn't exactly clear but I gather he's ready to come back to work.."
"I'd imagine he is sir."
"When was the last time you saw him?"
"Day before yesterday."
"How did he seem?"
"He seemed…" Her mind flashed back to the look of hungry desire on his face when he kissed her then the look of hurt and rejection that replaced it when she left. "He seemed okay."
"If you hear from him will you get him to give me a call?"
"Yes sir."
Replacing the phone she wondered for a moment what message Mulder has left for Skinner. Going back to her rice she mixed it in with the stir-fry and let it simmer for a few minutes. On impulse she went over to the phone and dialled his number. After only three rings it went to his answering machine but she decided against leaving a message. Ringing his mobile gave the same result so it was with some worry that she sat down to dinner.
She pushed her food around her plate eating little as she waited for Mulder to return her calls but after an hour had passed she put her plate in the sink and went into the bedroom to dress. Throwing on a pair of black jeans and her sneakers she grabbed her coat and keys and rushed out the door.
His apartment was empty. Glancing at his answering machine she saw he had fourteen messages so she guessed he'd been gone for longer then a couple of hours. In his bedroom she found the usual clutter of files and books littered near the window. But in his bathroom she noticed his toothbrush and shaving kit was gone. She went over to his cupboard where he kept his travel bag but couldn't find it. His car was gone as was his wallet and keys but there by his pillow was his gun and FBI badge
"Where are you Mulder?" she muttered as she made her way back to his phone. Calling the Lone Gunmen office she waited for them to pick up and when Frohike answered she heard the familiar clicks of the recording equipment. "Frohike. It's me."
"Agent Scully. To what do I owe the honour?"
"Have you seen Mulder?"
"He's gone to Ohio," Frohike answered quickly then at the long pause he added, "didn't he tell you? He left this morning."
"Ohio?"
"MUFON Conference."
"In Ohio."
"He left early this morning. I thought he told you."
"No. He didn't. Thanks Frohike."
Scully placed the phone back down and then saw the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table. The upturned glass next to it told a tale all of its own. Locking the door behind her Scully drove slowly back to her apartment and opened her laptop. If he could carry on regardless, then so could she, she said to herself fixing her glasses and focusing on the screen. But it wasn't long before she found herself packing a small bag and booking a ticket on the 7.45 flight to Ohio.
"I'll show him bloody Ohio," she said as she threw he bag onto the back seat and jumped into the car.
***
Dulles International Airport was louder than he had hoped it would be. He arrived at nearly seven this morning in the middle of the week not prepared for the cacophony of noise that would greet him and his hangover once he entered the building. Loud announcement shot painfully into his head calling for his flight but as he watched the other travellers rush up to the desk eager to check in to the Ohio bound flight as quick as possible he suddenly had the desire to be back at home in his bed. Or at the very least on the couch. He looked down at his mobile phone that was twirling in his hands the power switched off. He didn't even know why he brought it. With a sigh he stood to join the queue and hefted his bag onto this shoulder. It was a slow moving swaying line to the check in desk and he produced his ticket when he finally made it to the top.
"Ohio sir?" she asked glancing at his ticket then taking in his rumpled appearance with the scruffy stubble and the faint whiff of alcohol off his breath.
"Yes. Columbus."
"This is the flight for Texas."
"Texas?"
"Yes sir, if you'll just step aside I'll let these people on." She gently moved him aside and checked the other on.
"Which gate is for this flight?" Taking his ticket off him she glanced down at the details then back up to him with an exasperated sigh.
"This flight left half an hour ago sir."
"What?" Taking the ticket back and checking his watch Mulder cursed under his breath. Without another word he went over to the ticket desk and tried to complain but the forced cheerfulness of the receptionist hammered the anger out of him.
"Can I book another flight then?" he said eventually not wanting to hear "company policy" anymore.
"Certainly sir, where would you like to fly to?"
"Ohio."
"The next flight for Ohio is at 19.45."
"What but it's only half nine now?" he argued. "That's ten hours."
"We are sorry you missed you flight sir but we cannot change the schedule for one customer. Your name as paged over and over."
"Okay, okay book me on it." Mulder slid his card across the counter and watched the $200 purchase go through.
He contemplated going home but decided against it wanting not wanting to risk missing this flight too. He at a lunch at the restaurant but after getting one to many careful looks he wandered into the shower rooms and availed of the facilities. He shaved and changed his clothes getting out in time for his name to be called out over the intercom.
"Final call for Fox Mulder who is boarding flight OH1546. Fox Mulder go directly to gate 23."
"Shit!" Mulder picked up his bag and raced through the corridors to the check in desk and all but threw himself at the steward.
"Fox Mulder I presume," she guessed with a large smile.
"Yes. Am I too late?"
"Not at all. Go right through."
Taking back his stub he walked in through he gate and made his way to the plane. He stepped onto the plane at the rear entrance and sat down on the last seat available third from the back that was next to an elderly lady who was reading a Stephan King novel. He placed his bag in the overhead compartment and settled into his seat.
"I never travel without a King book," the lady said leaning towards him and speaking in a low conspirator voice.
"No?"
"Well I figure they take all the badness out of the flight and leave me with a pleasant journey."
"It's only an hour and a half so we should be too bad."
"You never know when its going to strike," she mused turning back to her book. "It's like love. Hits you in the pit of the stomach then settles in for the long haul."
Mulder glanced at her and frowned unsure how the topics compared. But preferring not to push it he rested his head back and closed his eyes.
***
Dana Scully stretched her legs out in front of her. Somehow she had managed to get a seat in the front row and enjoyed the extra room. Mulder often complained that the planes weren't designed with tall peoples comfort in mind but she usually shut him up by stretching her legs out as far as the cramped space would allow, which was usually still enough for her. Now in the front row with an abundance of space she couldn't help but wish he were beside her.
Then realisation dawned on her as to why she was on the flight in the first place. Her whimsical smile was replaced with a frown as she rested her head back against the rest and closed her eyes willing this trip to be over as soon as possible.
*Next chapter up tomorrow I promise. Just broke it in to 2 parts for the craic!*