Notes: Hmm, I'm thinking maybe two or three more chapters. I already have the first part of the last chapter written...Oh, the times are in Military from now on…so yeah…anyway. This chapter might have a bit more MSR than the others, I mean, all things considered, it is the most logical thing…I just write what I think the characters should do next, so…*shrugs*
Rinkufan: Oh, I just love having my goals set for me. Naturally, of course, you're right, I need to make my chapters longer. =P
Chapter: Five – London Rain
Disclaimer: Don't own London, anything in London, the X-Files, they belong to Chris Carter, Fox, 1013 productions, etc. etc.
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November 7, 2003
London Eye
11:00
Considering it was a Sunday, the immense Ferris wheel overlooking the Thames was surprisingly empty. Well, relatively. There were, of course, the tourists, who never left, and the few locals who were actually in the London Eye for some obscure reason, but all things considered, it was fairly deserted. Only four people to a car. That's deserted.
The London Eye is an immense Ferris wheel which overlooks the River Thames. It's not your ordinary Ferris wheel, either, with the rockable open cars, no, this is a glass windowed, full scale, can hold twenty people and has a bench in the middle of each capsule Ferris wheel.
Little did our favorite agents know, this would be a most interesting thirty minute ride…
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"Mulder, shouldn't we be doing something useful?"
"Aw, come on, Scully, you only live once. Well, you only live this life once in the same awareness and in the same occupation and with the same people, but my point remains the same."
"Are you ill? Has the weather gotten to you?"
He laughed, handing her one of the tickets.
They zigzagged up the ramp and handed their tickets to a jovial brunette who replied with, "Cheers."
"Cheers." The reply, surprisingly enough, came from Scully.
"Ooh, taking a walk on the wild side, eh, Scully? Picking up on the local lingo."
Scully outwardly gave an exasperated smile and inwardly snorted.
Stepping into one of the thirty two ever-rotating capsules, the pair took in their surroundings. There were three others in the pod, one elderly gentlemen and a red-haired lady who appeared to be his daughter, and a bedraggled young man with a camera the size (though not the shape) of a watermelon.
Scully crossed to the opposite end of the oval, eyes wide. From above…She was so engrossed by the view that she was only vaguely aware of a hand on the small of her back until an arm wrapped itself around her waist, Mulder looking out at London with his head resting on her shoulder.
"So this is why you wanted to come up here…"
The man with the camera snapped a few shots of the couple standing near the window.
"I just thought you'd appreciate the view."
"Uh huh…"
She turned her gaze back to the city, which she was just now starting to see fully.
A shaft of sunlight had managed to break through the perpetual grey, sending thousands of diamonds sparkling on the River Thames below. Westminster Abbey and the world-renowned clock which held Big Ben stood at a perfect angle below them, and the chap with the camera began taking pictures, in all directions, in earnest. Double-decker buses and a few cars sped past on the bridge below, and several small ships drifted lazily along the river.
Scully walked to the other sides, Mulder following at a slower pace, Scully absorbing the sights in her mind, hoping that she wouldn't forget a single detail. Mulder didn't have to take the extra time but he did anyway, savoring what he could see here and now without having to rely on his memory. They both ended up where they'd started.
"Why do we do it, Scully?"
"Do what?"
"Strive to achieve greatness by building immense creations with architecture that can only boggle the mind, continue to construct and dominate over everything. Why did we craft this?" He gestured to the city, now far, far, below them. Fifteen minutes in, and they were nearly at the apex of the ride. "Why…why do we try to become more than we are?"
"Because we want to make our mark on civilization, do something beneficial to mankind? Because we can't stand to live a meaningless existence? Because we have no one to live for so we create something to live for?"
"Maybe we just want to be remembered. I mean, when we die…who remembers us for who we are? We're only remembered for what we did in life, what we 'accomplished'. Most people don't have anyone to remember them for who they are, and even so, they're only remembered until that person passes on."
"So we build and create things so that people will remember us, even if not for who we are, but for what we accomplished, because that is better than total anonymity." Scully said it as a statement, wondering where exactly this conversation was going.
"Except that now it doesn't matter anymore." The words were spoken softly, and she knew that he was referring to the coming invasion.
"Come on, you can't think like that, Mulder. You have to live for the moment. Even without the invasion you never know how long you're going to have."
Then she found herself in his embrace, their faces less than a centimeter apart.
More pictures were snapped.
"Live for the moment," Mulder whispered.
"Mulder, we're in public…"
"Five people hardly constitute public," he countered, but released her anyway, eyes questioning.
Well, Dana?
"Well" what?
Answer the question!
But-
But what?
Shut up.
Dana, you can't just leave him hanging like that! You've been at a standstill for years! BAM! Kick it up a notch!
I never watch Emeril.
You're getting off topic.
So?
ANSWER HIM! What have you got to lose?
Everything!
Oh, so he means everything to you, eh, Scully?
Shut up.
See!
But what if-
BASEBALL! TOUCHSTONE! ONE IN FIVE BILLION! Is this ringing any bells? You have nothing to lose and everything to gain!
But-
You've hurt him enough! You left him to wake up alone in your bed!
And that thought was enough to spur her on. She didn't know what she was going to say, or what she was going to do, but she was going to say/do something.
So she just stopped thinking and did the first thing that came to mind. That first thing which came to mind was to pull Mulder back to her and kiss him, full on the lips, much to the delight of the young photographer. He managed to snap a total of twenty pictures, at different angles, before the two broke apart – barely.
Gasping, Mulder managed a word. "Hypocrite…"
They had started their descent and were now overlooking an equally breathtaking section of the city, stretching on for miles. Scully found herself drawn to the window, and her partner felt compelled to follow her.
"Scully…"
Her back remained turned to him, the petite figure gazing out at the city.
"Dana, I think I'm starting to figure it out."
She spun to face him, eyes inquisitive, arms crossed. A small smile played across her lips – from amusement or from the kiss?
"What if…what if we're not here to find out something about others…but to find out about ourselves?"
Scully opened her mouth to say something, but Mulder continued. "Just hear me out, Scully. What if, in the coming…years…we need to know something, and being plunked in a completely different environment acts as a…a catalyst. Maybe that's why it took us so long to find the truth. Because we need to be able to know ourselves inside out so completely that there's no doubt about whom you are."
"But why would you need to know that? I mean, don't we already?"
"I don't know, yet, I'm still working this out…but think about it."
They were silent for a time, eventually departing the ride and strolling down the path, past the modern Café A and the ancient aquarium. Scully somehow found their fingers laced, despite the weather. It had begun to rain again (big surprise), but they continued walking nowhere in particular, enjoying the silent companionship, both thinking about what Mulder had said.
* * *
Behind them, the man who had been taking pictures on the Ferris wheel sorted through the memory card – digital cameras were so useful, nowadays. Glancing up, he saw that the couple had nearly passed out of his sight, descending into one of the train stations. He bustled to catch up, somehow earning no more than a passing glance from the locals – he was just another tourist, albeit one with a large camera.
One of the downsides of the underground was that, if you were trying to follow someone, you generally had to get in the same car, and the same person on the train with you for most of the day was bound to look suspicious. So the man hung back, always getting in the same car yet constantly maintaining a safe distance from the two. He had a job to do, and he wasn't going to fail.
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Somewhere in London
Room 17
21:30
They arrived back at their hotel – a small one that Scully didn't even think had a proper name – and entered their room, dropping any acts at normality. They had checked in as Mr. and Mrs. Rob Petri, much to Mulder's delight at watching Scully bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him when they'd booked the room. Now, Mulder slumped in one of the chairs, Scully sprawling on the bed.
"My feet are killing me…" she kicked off the sneakers, watching one land near the door and another near Mulder's feet.
"Did you get the impression that we were being followed?"
"Oh, so it wasn't just me. Nice to know my partner's paranoia hasn't completely rubbed off on me."
"We're not partners anymore, Scully."
"Maybe not officially -" she sat up and stretched her arms above her head, yawning, "But that's not the point. Why would anyone be following us around London?"
"Maybe they heard us talking on the London Eye – maybe someone else here knows about the alien invasion. Maybe they want to know how to stop it, or save themselves."
"But we don't even know that, Mulder, and besides, what are the odds that someone here knows anything about the colonization?"
"Improbable, but not impossible." He grinned, managing to coax a small smile from his wearied partner, who flopped back on the bed.
"Well, there's not much we can do about someone following us, Mulder." Her eyes were drifting closed, and her breathing was deepening.
He was quiet for a while, and when he finally broke the silence it was softly, in case she'd fallen asleep.
"I think we should check out some of the old buildings, maybe see the crown jewels, Canary Wharf."
"Maybe…" she murmured softly, snuggling against the blankets.
Mulder rose and pulled them out, half-helping Scully to get beneath them. Despite her fatigue, she clasped his wrist and pulled him back when he started to leave. How she did it with her eyes closed he could only guess. "You should get some rest, Mulder…"
He sighed, gently prying her fingers off his wrist. "I can't, I need to think…"
"How long have you been awake?"
He shifted from one foot to the other, hoping she'd drift off to sleep so he wouldn't have to answer.
"Well?" if possible, her voice was softer, a whisper on the wind. That didn't stop exasperation from coloring it.
"One or two days…"
She sighed, snuggling deeper. "Promise you'll get some sleep, Mulder."
He smiled, flopping into the chair.
"I promise."
* * *
Damn those ex-FBI agents – they'd actually shut the blinds! Who knew what they were doing in there! They could be plotting secretly, or uncovering ways to save themselves from the upcoming invasion! And where was he? Outside, in a bush, his camera poised precariously on his knee as he rubbed his arms to generate warmth. Or they could be picking up where they left off on the London Eye… He shuddered at the thought.
Well, there wasn't much he could do but wait. It's not like there was anywhere comfortable to hide, though he had a niggling suspicion that he'd be waiting for them to come out for a long while. Sighing, he made himself as comfortable as possible, cradling his camera in his lap.
* * *
Well, Scully had been right, and Mulder had been forced to take up residence in the bed for a few hours after his brain started short-circuiting. Even he could only stay awake for so long, especially at his high rate of activity. He'd considered sleeping in the chair, seeing as this room didn't even have a couch – what did you expect for thirty pounds? – but rather decided to curl up next to Scully. Well, around Scully might be more accurate. He was careful not to wake her, wrapping his arms around her slim figure and nestling his head in her hair. Within minutes, he was asleep.
* * *
He slapped at a mosquito irritably, cursing the weather. Even when it was this cold, the pests still lived on to plague him. Most people here rarely encountered mosquitoes, but he was a magnet, attracting them to areas that were otherwise inhospitable. Who the hell did I piss off to get stuck with this?
Well, it's not like it was very important. The fact was, he was still stuck with it, and unless he got something useful by 12:00 tomorrow he'd be a hell of a lot deeper in horse shit than he already was. All he had now were relatively ordinary photographs of the pair, who seemed to be wandering around London aimlessly. That and their rather useless conversation recorded word for word in his brain. Well, there was that scene in the London Eye, and that could be worked to his advantage, but not if he couldn't figure out where they were going. He'd even bugged their room, but they hadn't even said anything useful in the few hours it'd lasted before it had mysteriously stopped working. Damn agents…ex-agents…same thing.
* * *
He felt her stir sometime around seven, but she soon settled back into the bed – and his arms, though he wasn't sure if she was aware of it – and dozed off again. He, on the other hand, couldn't fall back to sleep and so contented himself with thinking. About aliens, about global conspiracies, about how Scully tied into all this, about the man with the camera…About the London Eye…
Well, though it had answered his questions, he sensed that they seriously needed to talk about it before either of them truly understood where this was going. And what "this" was.
How far does she want to go?
Remember that night…
But she left before I woke up.
You're the only one she can trust.
Of course she can trust me.
But you're the only one she can trust.
What if it's just a fling? What if she doesn't want to commit?
Mentally she's been committed for years, and if you mean by physically…well…there was yesterday. And that time-
Okay, okay, I get the point.
So…
So what?
Talk to her about it.
He squeezed her gently, almost possessively, and felt her stir. He half expected her to go back to sleep again, but this time she mumbled something.
"Hmm?"
"I asked if you were awake."
"Well, I am."
She rolled over to face him and grinned. "I noticed."
He hesitated before broaching the subject. "Scully, about yesterday…"
Her face remained blank, waiting for him to continue.
Just ask her.
He tried to speak but the words caught in his throat, becoming increasingly incoherent until even he couldn't piece together what he wanted to say. He shook his head, trying to clear it.
"If you're gonna go, go all the way."
Now it was Mulder's turn to stare blankly.
Scully sighed – there'd been a lot of that going on lately.
"How did you know…?"
"I've known you for years, Mulder, sometimes I can understand you better than you can."
Those words caught in his mind, seeds, slowly growing, forming into a thought, a revelation, the answer that they'd come to seek.
"That's it, Scully."
Her brow furrowed. "What's it?"
He jumped off the bed and began pacing around the room, piecing the bits and fragments of information in his mind together, thinking aloud.
"You know me better than I know myself. What if that's it, Scully? We need someone to…to remember us. We need someone…to be an anchor. Someone to help us remember who we are."
"But if you already know who you are, and according to what you're saying you have to, why do you need someone else who knows? And how would that help?"
Despite the oddness of the statement, they both understood it.
"I…I don't know. But the answer isn't just out there," he spoke excitedly, gesturing outside to the city which surrounded them, "but in here." This time he tapped his head meaningfully. He sat back down on the bed, his eyes flashing with fervor. "You have to know me, and I have to know you, so completely that it's like we're one person."
"But why?"
"I think we need to explore London a bit more, Scully."
She grinned, his euphoria contagious.
"I think we do."
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Woo! That was what…2823 words? I didn't expect it to last that long! And I'm not sure where all that MSR came from, either…I also didn't initially mean to have that spy, either…but it all works out so well…Muahaha…so here's the plot I promised you! I have it all planned out…well, not really, but I know what's going to happen at the end, and how the whole anchor thing works! I still need to figure out how they end up in Canary Wharf…hmm… R&R please!!!!!!!