Chapter 8 (Mulder)
After dropping Scully off at school that morning, I returned my friend's car before making a trek to the local library. For the next seven hours, I looked through the hundreds of rolls of microfilm they had stored there, searching for any mention of April Base or a member of the conspiracy. I found only a couple references to the base, most of which seemed relatively mundane though I marked the date and basic details of the articles anyway.
By the time I had finally dragged myself through all of the records that that particular library kept, my stomach was growling so loudly that I was sure everyone in the place could hear me. Turning off the machine, I replaced the microfilm and left to find somewhere to eat. It was fall, so night was just starting to fall, and a good deal of light still surrounded me. I found a small burger joint relatively quickly, and one double cheeseburger and a plate of fries later, I was full.
After dinner, I wandered around the city for a bit, simply thinking. I was trying to piece together all the information I had gathered over the past couple days, still attempting to make sense of why Scully and I had been sent back in time. And why had Spender come with us? Surely if someone was trying to help us, they would have kept that cigarette smoking bastard out of our lives for at least a little while. Some peace and quiet free from government conspirators could have done us a world of good. But he was here and we would have to deal with him to the best of our abilities. I only hoped that we could triumph this time.
When I finished my musings, I glanced around at my surroundings to find that I did not recognize any of the street names on the signs around me, an unusual occurrence because of my eidetic memory. Evidently, my musings had taken more time than I had expected them to. Of course, I was not lost for long; I found a gas station nearby that was open, and the teenage clerk provided me with rudimentary directions that, though not the greatest, still brought me to a recognizable street.
Having done enough thinking for the night and unwilling to return to an empty hotel room, I turned toward the Scully residence. I had no idea what I was planning on doing once I reached the house, but I was flying out the following morning, and I wanted to see Scully one last time before I left. When I reached her house, I walked around to the back before realizing that I had no idea what window belonged to her room. I stood there a moment, unsure of how to proceed, before a familiar figure passed by one of the windows. Smiling at my good fortune, I knelt to the ground and selected a small stone, heavy enough to make a sound but not so heavy that it broke the glass. Sure, it was cliché, but it seemed appropriate.
I threw the first rock and waited for a moment, wondering if Scully had noticed the sound. Just as I was about to find another stone, the window opened, and my heart sunk. Shit. I forgot about Melissa. "Who the hell are you and what do you want?" she hissed. Fortunately, she did not raise her voice enough to alert the attention of any of the other members of the house. I did not want to explain what I was doing in their yard at 9:00 at night.
"I just wanted to talk to Sc-Dana!" I whispered back, loud enough to hear. Comprehension dawned on her, and I saw a slow smile appear on her face. Uh-oh. I was in some sort of trouble.
"Of course. You must be this Mulder character she was talking about. You should be able to climb up the tree there." She nodded toward a large oak a couple feet from the window. I raised my hand in thanks and approached the tree, swinging myself easily into the lowest branches. With years of practice under my belt, it did not take long at all for me to pull myself on the branch at the level of the open window. Missy stepped back, allowing me to squirm my way into the room. Immediately, Scully—the Scully I actually came to see—accosted me.
"What the hell are you doing, Mulder?" she questioned.
"Hello to you, too, Scully. I just came to see you."
"At 9:00 at night?"
"I'm leaving tomorrow morning."
"Oh." Her face softened. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Slipped my mind," I lied. The truth was, I didn't tell her because I was enjoying myself too much, and I didn't want to think about leaving her again.
"Liar." Right, I forgot she could read my mind.
"So what if I am?" I countered playfully. I saw a small smile tug at her lips, and I started to approach her, intending to widen it with a kiss, but Missy interrupted us before I made my way within a few feet of her.
"He's cute, Danes. I might approve after all."
"I don't need your approval, Missy."
"You do if you want me to cover for you with Mom and Dad."
"Cover?"
"He's leaving tomorrow, Danes," Missy prompted. I understood perfectly and turned to Missy with a wide smile.
"Is that an offer?"
"Only if you answer a few questions first."
"Depends on the questions."
"What are your intentions with my sister?"
"My intentions?" I asked, smirking a bit at her choice of words. "Have we suddenly reverted to the twelfth century?"
"You're avoiding the question."
"Well, m'lady, I assure you that my intentions are perfectly honorable."
"So you're going to marry her?"
"Not right this minute. But when we're older, I want to. That is, if she'll have me."
"Trust me, she'll have you. She's totally gaga over you."
"Hello, right here!" Scully announced, waving a hand in Missy's face.
"Where did you two meet?" Missy asked, ignoring Scully.
"At Harvard this summer," I told her, feeding Missy the same line that Scully had earlier fed Kristen.
"This summer? Well, Danes, that's weird considering you were head over heels for what's his name—Brian something-or-other not too long ago."
"Really?" I turned to her with interest, not because I was jealous but because in all of our conversations over the years, she had never mentioned a Brian. And she told me most of her crushes. In fact, I could probably trace her romantic interests from primary school onward.
"I never liked Brian, Missy. I've told you this time and time again," Scully said.
"And yet your actions say something different."
"Missy." Scully's voice took on a warning tone I knew well.
"Fine. So, Mulder, tell me about yourself."
"That's a rather open-ended question."
"What do you do for fun?" Missy clarified.
"I like playing with guns, knives, pretty much any kind of weapon. I know twenty different ways to kill a man without leaving a trace," I deadpanned. Missy looked at me for a moment before realizing that I was kidding.
"A sense of humor. That's a step up from the last guy Dana brought home."
"Marshall wasn't funny?" I questioned, recalling the name with ease. A photographic memory definitely had its positive aspects.
"He was a nice guy," Scully defended.
"He was boring," Melissa declared.
"I'm with your sister here," I agreed.
"You've never met him!" Scully declared.
"Yeah, but any guy named Marshall must be a bore."
"I wonder what that logic would say about you, Fox," Scully said, emphasizing my first name. Ouch, Scully, that was a low blow.
"Fine. Point taken. I won't make fun of him for his name."
"Do you two do this often?" Missy questioned.
"What?" we asked simultaneously.
"Fight."
I shrugged. "Sure. We're very opinionated people."
"How is a relationship ever going to work out then?"
"Because we always make up in the end," Mulder said. "Now, if the interrogation is over, do you think you could cover for us for a couple hours?"
"Sure. No problem."
"Thanks." I turned toward the window but realized before I climbed out that Scully was not following me. "You coming Scully?"
"You still haven't told me where we're going," she pointed out.
"It's a surprise." Scully sighed and shook her head, approaching me.
"With you, Mulder, everything's a surprise." I smiled up at her, sliding out the window with her close behind me.
I had discovered a forest a little over a quarter of a mile from Scully's house while I was walking there, and it was to this forest that I now led her. We were fairly quiet during the trek, both lost in our own thoughts. When Scully saw where we were going, she smiled. "I was actually going to suggest the same place," she told me.
"See, we can read each other's minds," I pointed out.
"Sorry, Mulder, this isn't proof of telepathy. It just means that there are very few private places around here. These woods are probably the only place for miles where we can get some privacy outside."
"Spoilsport."
"I'm just here to keep you grounded."
"And I'm grateful for that everyday. Now, come on, let's go." I grabbed her hand and tugged her arm lightly, pulling her after me into the dense trees. We walked for a bit, both content to simply wander aimlessly through the woods. As we meandered through the trees, sometimes following the path that people before us had created but often forging our own path, we laughed and joked as if nothing had happened. And for those fleeting moments, nothing had. We were the same Mulder and Scully that we always had been and yet better because we were free from the perpetual worry. We had finally stopped the car.
Eventually, we reached a small clearing, and we both sat, me with my back against the wide trunk of a tree and Scully between my outstretched legs with her back against my chest. I linked my hands in front of her stomach, holding her close to me. A comfortable silence descended upon us, and I listened to the crickets chirping around us for a moment before speaking. "It's nice here."
"It really is. A lot of the scenery is beautiful around here."
"That's not what I was talking about."
"I know." I felt her take a breath. "So I guess this is it for awhile."
"I've got winter break in a few weeks, so I'll definitely be back then."
"This feels like you in hiding all over again."
"No, Scully, this is different. You can contact me whenever you like, and I'm free to move as I please."
"But you're still so far away."
"And I'll be here in an instant if you need me."
"Believe me, Mulder, I know that." She turned to me with a smile, reaching up to cup both of my cheeks in her hands. Leaning forward, she brought her lips to mine in a sweet kiss. "I just love you so much."
"I know. Trust me, Dana, I know."
We spent just over two hours in those woods saying goodbye, and it was still not enough. It would never be enough. I did not want to leave her, and I knew she also did not wish to leave me. Unfortunately, the circumstances demanded that we part. I walked her back to her house, and we shared one last, lingering kiss before reluctantly pulling away. Neither one of us shed a tear. We were both strong—sometimes too strong for our own good—and we would not allow ourselves to become too emotional. It was better that way.