By Gina Rain
ginarain@aol.com
 

Category: M/S UST
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Post One-Breath, Pre-Firewalker
Summary: Mulder experiences separation anxiety.
Disclaimer: Chris Carter and Fox own the x-files.
Special Thanks: To Sybil for the lovely beta and for
interrupting my casefile work with these challenges.
She's working my fingers to the bone, I tell you.
And I'm dedicating this one to Carol A., just because.
Archive: Sure
 
 

I felt my throat tighten again.

In some ways, it was worse being without her now than
when she was actually missing. It started with a vague
sense of unease, which quickly progressed to a full-
blown paranoia that could only be assuaged in one way.

It was time to practice some tough-love on myself.
After all, Scully had every right to go for a swim.

Anyone who looked at her could tell she wasn't in the
greatest physical shape since her return. She was pale
and her movements were stiff. Her doctor had suggested
swimming as a fairly painless way to help rebuild
muscle tone. She only took his advice a half-hour ago.

It was--and is--important for her to feel in control.
So, of course, she never told me how uncomfortable she
was. But I knew. It was only her second day back in
the office and she had arrived so early the coffee I
had set up hadn't finished brewing when she walked in.
That put her in running for employee-of-the-week but
by eleven A.M. she was in pain, and I was playing my
role as her non-intrusive partner and ignoring it.

I stood and paced.

The topic of the moment: the roles we choose to play
in life. Digest and discuss. But I couldn't. All I
could think of was how relieved I had been when I
walked into her hospital room after she woke from her
coma. She greeted me with that same sweet smile. But
she remembered nothing. And when she does ...

I haven't heard the sounds of her easy laughter since
her return. I haven't witnessed the boundless energy
that was part and parcel of the tiny dynamo that took
possession over part of my basement and my life.
Perhaps they had already been sacrificed to what her
body remembered but her mind could not.

As I passed by her side of the office, I saw a sudden
movement on the floor. On second glance, nothing had
moved. It had gleamed. The fluorescent lights in the
room had hit a small gold earring at just the right
angle and seemed to give off a small spark. It was the
same tiny, businesslike hoop that Scully had worn that
morning.

Scully was up in the recreational area. Wearing only
one earring. Perhaps she had noticed its absence.
Perhaps it was an item of great sentimental value and
she was, even now, in the middle of a fevered search.
I turned the earring over in my hand. A more ordinary
piece of jewelry couldn't be found.

What to do? What to do?
 

The door made a hollow metallic sound when it swung
closed behind me. The acoustics in the "pool room"
were incredibly odd.  I looked around and thought that
I had missed Scully. No one seemed to be in the room
or in the pool. But this time, real movement caught my
attention. An ivory and black figure was swimming
underwater.  Scully's skin was so pale against the
dark bathing suit and mandatory cap.

I shouldn't have come. I was encroaching on her well-
treasured privacy and she might not be happy with the
idea of me watching her at a moment like this. Women
could get odd over men seeing them in bathing suits--
even those that had seen them in their underwear on
another auspicious occasion.  But I never did know
when to just turn and walk away. I sat on the bench
nearest the pool and watched her instead.

She was making me nervous. She had been swimming
underwater for a while and every time I expected her
to rise to the surface--she'd kick her feet and force
her body down toward the bottom of the pool. Scully
seemed to be a strong swimmer. She didn't appear to be
in distress of any kind. She looked--incredible. This
woman whose headstone had been engraved was alive and
kicking and looking like some otherworldly sea goddess
who drew her life-blood and oxygen from the lightly
heated, highly chlorinated water of the FBI pool.

A black-capped head finally broke through the water
and Scully took in huge, gasping breaths. She had her
back to me as she pulled off her bathing cap--against
FBI policy, by the way--and let her curling red hair
fall free. A small coughing fit followed and I leaned
forward wondering if I should offer any help.

She knew I was there. She felt it.  She stopped
coughing and slowly turned around. Her face colored
lightly and, surprisingly, she swam from the middle of
the pool to the side where I was sitting. She pulled
herself up out of the water and sat by my feet--
leaning back on her elbows as if she were sunbathing.

"How long have you been here, Mulder?"

"Long enough to see a remarkable demonstration of the
latest in breath control."

She smiled. "And here I thought you had come by to see
if there were any busty agents you could ogle."

My eyes quickly scanned her body. I had not seen so
much of it since our first case together. The view was
still lovely. I watched as a bead of water took a high
dive off the side of her face and landed on the creamy
slope of her upper left breast. I don't think I took
my eyes off it until it found an escape route inside
her suit. She noticed and colored again. I knew she
hated it but I loved the fact that her own body gave
away a couple of secrets now and then.

"How active was your imagination when you were a
child, Mulder?"

Uh, oh. She wasn't going to ask me about my first
water-related sex fantasy, was she?

"I guess average. Maybe slightly more than average."

"Well, I know you'll find this hard to believe--but
mine was very active," she said.

I smiled down at her. She had one leg dangling over
the edge of the pool--her foot playfully slapping the
water.

"Little Dana was a closet dreamer?"

"Little Dana was a hell-raising adventuress. Ready to
take on any situation and win. If we went berry
picking--I was hunting for food for my poor, starving
family who were unable to do it themselves because
they were being held hostage by a band of marauding
California cannibals. I'd pick berries and look for
possible weapons at the same time."

"Type A personality, Scully."

"I guess so," she said quietly. "Mulder, I remember
something."

I immediately reached out and touched her shoulder,
bracing us both for whatever she may have to reveal.

"No, it's not what you think. I just remember having
dreams of being adrift. Waiting. Everything seemed out
of my control. Like I had absolutely no say in what
was to happen to me. And, maybe the worst part was, I
didn't seem to care. I came up here and started doing
laps and that feeling returned. And I didn't like it.
So--I guess I fell back on old habits. I returned to
childhood for a moment. Became a highly skilled diver
who could hold my breath for as long as I wanted and
get out of danger if I needed to. Silly, isn't it?"

"Why? Because I busted you?"

"Well, yes. I guess so."

"Well, it's not silly at all. Even if I did catch you
in the act. Anything that gives you back your sense of
control is good. It's important. To you and to me."

She nodded in a distracted sort of way. She had her
own thoughts to think, her own feelings to categorize
and file away in her mind. But that was an "alone"
activity--something that she probably couldn't stop
herself from doing if she tried. Here, with me, she
needed a break.

I pushed back the hair from the right side of her face
and smiled.

"Agent Scully! Your ear is naked."

Her hand flew to her right ear and then her left. She
began to look around for the missing earring.

"I must have dropped it in the pool," she said with a
tinge of sadness.

 Like the dreaded Copperfield, I pulled the earring
out of my pocket, held it up in front of her face and
reintroduced myself, "Fox Mulder. Jewelry Detective."

She laughed. It was an easy, genuine sound; a
beautiful sound. She took the earring from my hand and
put it on. Then she stood up. I did the same.

We stood there facing each other. She was looking down
at her feet and it was hard not to just drink in the
sight of her with a big grin on my face. It was hard
not to collapse at her feet and beg her to never, ever
leave me again. It was hard to bite back a kind of
primal scream that kept building from a store of
emotions I had been too frightened to even tap into.

"Thank you, Mulder. Not only for the earring but for
hanging on to my cross and ... everything."

We were finally having our moment--the one we couldn't
have with her mother and sister as witnesses.

She took a step forward and stopped. I reached out.

"Mulder, I'm going to get you all wet," she mumbled as
I pulled her in for a huge hug. She snaked her arms
under my open jacket and around my waist. I felt her
wet breasts touch my chest first. Her bathing suit
soaked through the thin material quickly.

"Thank *you*," I mumbled into her hair.

"For what?"

<For being alive. For coming back. For wearing
defective earrings.>

She pulled away slightly, still awaiting an answer.

"For enhancing my reputation as a lady killer," I said
as I put one hand on the small of her back and pulled
her closer to me. My pants now matched my shirt.  I
felt her shiver in response.

I released her from my embrace. "You better get
dressed. I don't want you catching a cold."

She smirked, "Mulder, that's not how ... "

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I know."

She winked at me and headed for the ladies locker
room. I'd be heading for the men's in a moment to try
and maneuver the hand dryer and blow my clothes dry.
The lingering smell of chlorine would be with me all
day. It would make me smile and cause my throat to
tighten--in a good way.

And even if this throat constriction turned into a
chronic problem, I had no need to worry. My doctor had
come back. She'd come back home and returned to my
side.

My doctor. My friend. My deep sea diving, berry
picking, cannibal slayer.

My Scully.
 

the end
 

Author's Notes: I adore--absolutely adore--the last
few minutes of One Breath when Mulder comes in that
hospital room and is all shy and adorable. There is
just NO WAY that the moment ended right there. Either
he came sneaking in later or something had to have
happened. Well, that's my take on it, anyway.

The challenge:
Any character returning home (using any definition of
the word, "home.") Check.
Elements that must be included:
Finding or returning something that was lost
(earrings--check)
Something moving that isn't really moving (earrings--
check)
Doing something you are not suppose to be doing - at
work (daydreaming and ogling Scully--check)
Something [someone] repeatedly going down - take that
as you will (and I did--Scully diving down to the
bottom of the pool--so, sue me. I have a pure mind;-)
 
 
 
 
 
 

Visit the Rain Room...fan fiction by Gina Rain
http://www.geocities.com/ginarainfic