By: Sara Tanner Category: X, A, MSR Spoilers: A couple thrown in there, for FTF, Detour, maybe some others. Summary: After being contacted by an old friend of Mulder's, the agents set out on an adventure in Cape Town, South Africa. Disclaimer: They're not mine, ok?
Notes: This was a shorter story I completed in 2000, I believe. I was never quite happy with how short it was. I had always thought it would make a more appropriate novel, as the story seemed brief and rushed. As of recent, I decided to take it back out and rehash it out to fulfill my dream for it.
There was quite a bit of research that went into the original story. The myth of Umlindi Wemingizimu is real, and has been researched prior to the beginning of the story. The research agency featured in the story, to avoid any possible political overtone or confusion, is fictional, as are all the original characters.
I'm through most of the story, and will be posting in increments as often as possible ( I won't dangle it out unnecessarily). I simply have yet to finish editing and getting all the ducks in a row.
PS- This is a small, vignette companion piece to the rest of the story. It's really just a quiet moment between our duo before they make their way out to Africa, and the adventure that lies ahead. More to come by the end of the week - likely Sunday.
Umlindi Wemingizimu: Watcher of the South Chapter 3, Part 1
Fox Mulder's Apartment 2:35 am
Try as he might, Fox Mulder was finding it damn near impossible to get to sleep. He sighed in frustration. He should be exhausted, having been out until 1:00 am drinking and catching up with John, dancing with Scully.
The thought of their outing brought a little smirk to his face. He couldn't explain why, but having John's validation made him feel giddy. It had been years since he had seen him, but his opinion still mattered just as much as it always had. There again, John had always had an interesting sort of influence on Mulder. It was never lost on him that John tended to struggle with keeping up his conviction in the face of ridicule. He would have had to have been stupid to never know the kinds of things passed through his lips behind his back. But it never seemed to matter.
He was also giddy with the knowledge that
his old best friend and his lover got along
so nicely. John had even shared a dance with
Scully, and she hadn't grumbled or complained.
He smiled as he thought back to the good time
they'd had that night. She had been so charming.
He wished other people saw her the way he did:
not as the cream of the FBI crop, hard,
unyielding, and professional, but as the soft,
friendly woman in the jeans and t-shirt. He had
a feeling that Dana really was the jeans and
t-shirt type. Scully wasn't, but whenever she
was in those jeans and t-shirts, Dana came out.
Her eyes glimmered, and she looked ten years
younger. She smiled more, and she cracked
obvious jokes, rather than the subtle,
intellectual ones that passed across their desks
at work.
"Mulder, you ok?" Scully's sleep-deepened voice made its way to him as she shimmied herself over to him in the bed, snuggling up and dropping her head on his chest. She let out a brief sigh of contentment. "You haven't slept yet, have you?"
"No." His answer was not hostile. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't get my mind to shut up long enough to get some shut-eye."
"I can hardly blame you. We have a lot to think about in the next couple days." She smiled and dropped a chaste kiss on his bare chest.
"That's just it. I haven't thought about going to
Africa at all." He paused."I suppose I've been
caught up in some cheesy, sentimental thought"
He lifted his eyebrows at her and grinned.
"Mulder?" Her eyebrows furled.
"Nothing deep, Scully. I was just thinking about
how I'm glad you and John are getting along so nicely.
I was thinking about my past friendship with him,
about the things that happened back then. And then
I was thinking about you. Watching you dance in
your jeans and t-shirt, you were amazing. You were
like a completely different person - so bright and
happy, so sexy. I was wishing I saw you like that
more often." He looked at her, waiting for her
reaction.
"Deep, my ass, Mulder. What in the hell are you trying to say, Mulder?" Her face was still contorted in concern.
"Nothing, really." He paused. "I guess that came out sounding confused and a little depressed. I guess I just wished we had a good time like that more often. Maybe I wish there was a little less death and pain in our lives and the lives of those around us."
Scully cleared her throat, and paused to compose herself before speaking. "You know, Mulder, as much as I've talked about 'getting out of the car' or whatever else I've said, I don't think I could ever lead a so-called 'normal' life. I don't think you could either. I think we both chose this life, maybe not consciously, but we did. And I think any kind of tame life with a couple kids and a white picket fence, featuring neighbors who just want to be 'neighbory'," they both paused and chucked at her reference. "would ultimately kill us."
"I don't know, Scully," He hugged her to him. "From where I'm sitting, I think I could spend the rest of my life loving you." He smiled and bent to drop and soft kiss to the side of her throat.
She pushed him away to look into his face. "In all seriousness, Mulder. You love me, but you also love your sister."
Mulder winced and was ready to rebutt. He hadn't
meant to begin this kind of conversation. She
stopped him from uttering any kind of complaint,
though.
"I'm not finished. You love your sister, you loved your family. You still move through life keeping your promises to them and others whom have passed on. You love your files, and what they represent to you. I could never ask you to choose between any of those things and me."
Mulder smiled. "But I could, Scully. And I would always choose you."
Scully raised her eyebrows, asking him to explain, as her eyes watered just a bit.
"I would always choose you because you represent the two things that are most important to me."
He took a minute to press a gentle kiss against her mouth, pulling her closer, almost cradling her.
"To me, you represent the Truth, and the light."
No more words were spent on conversation. Mulder
quietly made love to her, solidifying his words.
He would have never told anyone, but this was
his favorite way to make love - in the middle of
the night, when it seemed the rest of the world
was taking part in their daily repose. Outside
the apartment and in, it was dark, almost too
dark to see, and things were eerily calm. He
would keep his cries held to the back of his
throat, not wanting to interrupt the soothing
silence around him. Only when he was finished
did he quietly whisper, "God, I don't think I
could love you any more."
End Chapter 3, Part 1