On the train ride back to London, neither of them spoke much. Scully had reached for Stella's hand almost immediately after they'd sat down, wanting to savour these last few hours together in quiet contemplation. Stella had smiled, and then leaned over to rest her head on Scully's shoulder. In answer, Scully rested her own head on top of Stella's, breathing in the sweet honeyed scent of her shampoo.
It felt like rising from the depths of the sleep, the edges muted in pastel shades of colour, the sounds of conversation around them muffled and distant. She let her mind flow freely from thought to thought, like a dragonfly touching down lightly on the surface of a still pond. The warmth of Stella nestled against her. The beauty of the green fields rushing past, dotted with villages that seemed to be hanging there, suspended in time. The low vibration and rock of the train car.
Scully wasn't ready for it to end, wanted to sink back down into dreams, but that sounded too maudlin to say out loud. So, instead, she lifted her head and waited for Stella to look at her.
When she did, Scully kissed her softly, sweetly, wanting to say, 'thank you', wanting to say 'I'm going to miss you', wanting to say 'I don't want to wake up from this, not yet' but knowing that none of those words could truly convey the complexity of what she felt.
And Stella kissed her back, and Scully hoped she understood.
When they reached King's Cross station they disembarked slowly, walking together, still holding hands, as they made their way to the row of taxis waiting outside. Scully was heading to the airport, Stella to her flat. It had come to an end.
"I don't do good-byes well," Scully said as they turned to face one another.
"Then don't," Stella said quietly. "Take care of yourself, Dana." She touched her cheek, letting her fingers linger there for a moment as their eyes met.
"You, too."
Stella leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, and then she stepped back. With the slightest of nods, she turned away, her heels tapping on the pavement as she walked towards the taxi at the front of the line. She got in without looking back, and the cab drove away.
Scully had never been more grateful for the miracle that was dimenhydrinate.
She didn't want to think, didn't want to feel… she wanted to shut down for a few hours, sucked into the numbness of heavy sleep that Dramamine was kind enough to provide. She'd felt nauseous on the cab ride to the airport thanks to the combination of anxiety over the flight combined with the thought of seeing Mulder again, of being immersed once more in the day-to-day realities that this trip had been a temporary and welcome escape from. And, she missed Stella, missed the calming influence of her presence like the hint of a toothache. If she tried not to think about it, she could still feel the dull throb of it. If she did think about it, pushing her tongue against it, wanting the pleasure and pain of direct contact, it was even worse.
She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes, as the plane began to accelerate, feeling the bumps and lurches of the wheels settle into her stomach as it hurtled upward off the runway and into the damp grey fog of the London sky. Would she ever come back? She didn't know. She was too tired to care now. With a sigh, she turned her head to the side, and let sleep overtake her.
When she woke up, with a stiff neck, aching shoulders, and a full bladder, she glanced at her watch. They would be landing in DC in another two hours. After a trip to the bathroom, she settled back into her seat, unable to fall back asleep. Was Mulder going to be there to pick her up? He had dropped her off at the airport when she'd left so she wouldn't have to leave her car in long term parking, and she had told him the details of her return flight. Had he remembered? Or, was he so busy with whatever case Diana had managed to dredge up to entice him with that it had completely slipped his mind? She didn't know which option was worse.
On the one hand, she missed him terribly and she wanted nothing more than to see him after this time apart. But, she could still feel the lingering prickle of hurt that he'd been with Diana when she'd phoned. How could she ever possibly hope to compete? Diana had it all. She was physically his type — tall, brunette, leggy — and, even worse, she was mentally his type, too. A believer, willing to go along with his theories and support him rather than challenge him. If that weren't bad enough, they had a history together. A romantic history. His little chickadee, as Frohike had so elegantly put it. It made her want to vomit all over her shoes.
She swallowed and closed her eyes as the plane hit a pocket of turbulent air. How fitting. She hoped he'd forgotten. Like an injured animal, she wanted to slink home and lick her wounds in peace.
The turbulence continued for another half hour, Scully's fingers steadily tightening around the cool metal armrest until they were practically numb. She always felt calmer when she flew with Mulder; he would make her laugh, start a debate… sometimes, she was quite sure he intentionally tried to piss her off or pick a fight, but it was a suitable distraction all the same. She clutched the solidity of the armrest and hoped she wasn't going to need the brown airsickness bag that she'd pulled out of the pocket of the seat in front of her and placed on her lap for easier access, just in case. At least she had the aisle seat if she wanted to try and bolt to the bathroom.
By the time the plane landed she was sure she must be a comical shade of green. With a sigh of relief, she tucked the airsickness bag she thankfully hadn't needed back into the seat pouch for the next unlucky traveller with a similar disposition and put her untouched book into her carry-on bag. Like the other passengers, she stumbled her way to the luggage area with cramped muscles and blinking bleary eyes at the too-bright lights of the terminal. The luggage was slow to unload and hers was one of the last bags to drop down onto the carousel — of course — but at least it gave her stomach some time to stop roiling and churning.
With a tired yawn, she made her way through customs and, at long last, pushed open the metal half gate that led to the unsecured area of the terminal. She couldn't wait to catch a cab and fall into her own bed.
She worked her way through the scattered crowds of people towards the ground transportation doors, when there was a sudden tug on her arm. She turned in confusion to see Mulder and her eyes widened in surprise. He had remembered.
"Scully! Where are you going? You walked right past me." His confusion mirrored her own as he wrinkled his brow. "Are you okay? You look awful." His puzzled frownforwn quickly became concern as he pressed a hand to her forehead. "Sick sick or just airplane sick?"
"Airplane sick." She stepped away from him and shook her head lightly. "It's fine. Just the usual and there was a lot of turbulence towards the end."
"You didn't forget your Dramamine did you?" He batted her hand away from the handle on her luggage and pulled it along behind him as they began to walk.
"No, it just doesn't last the entire length of the flight when it's that long. If I'd taken another one partway through, I would have been too out of it to get off the plane."
"If I'd been with you, I could have carried you off."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, no chance of that happening, but thanks anyway. I just want to go home and collapse."
They made their way silently out to the parking lot, and Mulder unlocked the passenger side door for her before stowing her luggage in the trunk and hurrying around to the driver's side. There was a light drizzle falling, with just enough wind to make it unpleasant, and Scully shivered, knowing it would take a few minutes before the vents were blowing warm air. Right now, it was just making her colder.
They didn't speak again until after Mulder had negotiated the non-intuitive route out of the airport and onto the highway. Scully had her hands up to the vents in front of her, seeking the warmth that was still, sadly, non-existent.
"So," Mulder opened with a side glance over at her, "how was your trip?"
The windshield wipers made a slow pass, back and forth, across the glass.
How should she answer that? She didn't really know… It didn't feel like something life-changing but, at the same time, she felt like it was a point in time where she could place a divide between how she had felt before and how she felt now. Not a clean divide, not a precision cut with a scalpel, but a jagged tear, sure to leave a scar when it healed.
Was she a different person than when she had left? No. That sort of thing happened in books and movies, but not real life. Instead, it felt like she had accepted a previously unacknowledged part of herself. Not a new person, the same person, but slightly more self-aware maybe.
"Uh… good. I guess. The conference was interesting."
The windshield wipers went back and forth, back and forth, with a pronounced squeak each time. She realized that Mulder hadn't turned on the radio and she gave him a baffled glance. He always preferred the radio on when he drove.
He was staring out the windshield at the road with a concentration she thought seemed feigned — the weather conditions weren't that bad — and his fingers alternated between tightening and tapping on the steering wheel. Her eyes narrowed.
"How have things been here?" She tried to keep the tightness in her throat out of her voice. "What does Kersh have planned for us this week?" She deliberately didn't ask about the case Diana had involved him in, both hoping it had all blown over by now and not wanting to hear about it in the event that it hadn't.
"Quiet. The… um… case that Diana…" There was a worried glance in her direction that lasted only a fraction of a second, but she was sure he'd caught the way she had tensed. "Um, the clairvoyant abductee case was a total bust. Nothing there at all. I don't know why she'd thought it was so important that we go check this guy out."
Scully bit back a snide comment, tightly clenching her teeth together instead, although it wasn't nearly as satisfying. Not much of a mystery why she conveniently wanted to drag Mulder off on an overnight adventure alone while Scully was out of town.
"Of course, she didn't give me all the case notes until we were driving, so we ended up stuck there for the night anyway." He glanced at her again and Scully turned her attention to the lamp posts whizzing by like blurry globes of light out her window so he wouldn't see her scowl. "I'm sure you would have figured out that the guy was a fraud right away."
They didn't speak the rest of the drive home, but the rain had picked up steadily so that it was downright pouring by the time they reached Scully's apartment. Mulder turned off the car and gave her a quick grin. "You run for the door. I'll grab your suitcase and meet you there. Ready?"
She nodded, softening a little at the warmth in his eyes. It was good to be home.
"Okay… on three — one, two, three!"
Both car doors opened at the same time, Scully making a mad dash up the path to the front doors while fumbling for her keys — she really should have thought to have gotten them out while they were still in the car — as Mulder whipped around to the trunk to get her suitcase. He was nearly beside her by the time she'd located her keys and unlocked the front door of the apartment and they burst through into the dry lobby area, both of them wet and dripping. He laughed as he pushed a lock of wet hair out of his eyes and she couldn't help smiling as well. They were drenched.
She pulled the strap of her carry-on bag further up her shoulder and then took the handle of her suitcase from him. "Thanks for picking me up, Mulder."
He grinned and reached out to catch the drop of rain water that was about to drip from the bottom of her chin. "Any time, Scully. I'll let you go collapse into bed now while I try not to be washed away by the flood waters."
"Drive safely."
She turned and started to walk towards the stairs up to the second floor.
"Hey, Scully?"
She turned back to see Mulder still standing by the door, watching her. "Yeah?"
He gave a long slow blink. "I missed you."
She took him in with her eyes: the way his long lanky form leaned against the door frame; that stubborn lock of hair that was already in his face again; the way he seemed to be taking her in in precisely the same way.
"I missed you, too, Mulder."
The moment hung there between them until he finally shrugged and looked away. "Well… night, Scully. Guess I'll see you on Monday."
"I wouldn't miss it," she answered.
He pushed open the door, letting in one last blustery gust of wind and rain, and she was alone.
Huge, beta squishy hugs for the wonderful Josie Lange for whacking this around with her beta stick!