A Card for Scully

By Alden Scott Crow
pmc@lodinet.com


Date: Mon, 07 Dec 1998
Rating: G
Category: Vignette
Spoilers: The Host
Keywords: Mulder/Scully friendship
Summary: Mulder does something nice and unexpected for Scully; but, is
it a HallmarkTM?

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the sole property of
Chris Carter and the kind folks at 1013, Inc. This story was written
entirely for enjoyment; no money was made from this story. No
copyright infringement is intended.

Author's note: I wish to thank my wife, Misti, for all of her help
with this story; also, thanks to SetMedic and Sherry for their
assistance.

FBI Agent Fox Mulder had looked death square in the eye on many
occasions, fighting vampires, aliens, and secret organizations. Yet
razor-fanged Reticulans didn't bother Mulder. It was the mundane,
day-to-day details that really irritated him; getting groceries, for
example.

On a Friday night, at about 10:30, Mulder finished all of his work.
Since he had no social life, all that was left was to go grocery
shopping.  He always put off that chore until the last possible
moment, but he could delay it no longer tonight.

Mulder compiled a list in his head: sunflower seeds; shoe polish; his
usual "gentleman's" magazine; and a card for Dana Scully, his FBI
partner and friend.

Mulder was not known for his thoughtfulness. It was like him to
completely space out and miss Scully's birthday or some other
significant milestone. Mulder didn't forget out of thoughtlessness,
however. He just had other things on his mind (aliens; Cigarette
Smoking Man; his sister, Samantha).

But Mulder was determined to do something right for a change. For the
past week he'd been feeling downright considerate toward Scully. He
even remembered to compliment her when she came into work with a new
haircut. Maybe Mulder was going soft and sensitive after all this
time.

Why a card? Professionally speaking, it had been a rough couple of
years for Scully. She'd given up a promising FBI career to follow
Mulder in chasing after human flukeworms and other bizarre facets of
life's paranormal underbelly. But recently she'd won a considerable
honor, as the prestigious Journal of American Medicine had chosen to
publish her paper on "Forensic Treatment of Decomposed Corpses in the
Field." It was a coup for Scully. While she was her usual modest self
about the recognition, even the relatively clueless Mulder could tell
she was proud.

And he was proud, very proud. A little guilty, too. He wondered if she
would've had dozens of papers published by this point in her life if
she hadn't been traipsing around all creation with him.

So Mulder wanted to get a card for Scully. Nothing fancy, just a nice
"Congratulations" sentiment.

With mental grocery list in tow, Mulder pushed through the automatic
doors of his neighborhood supermarket. Inside was a bustle of
activity. Aisles were buzzing with customers and the checkout stands
were hopping.

"Geez. Don't these people have lives?" Mulder griped as he grabbed a
basket.

He picked up the seeds (three bags, one jumbo for home and two smaller
ones for the road), the shoe polish, and the magazine. As he wandered
the store looking for the card aisle, he was distracted by the
tabloids and their screaming headlines: "Aliens Stole My Brain," "I
Married A Reticulan," and "Bigfoot Cuts Book Deal."

"If they only knew," Mulder thought, shaking his head. Just then, out
of the corner of his eye, he spotted a friend.

"Frohike. I didn't think you ever left that cave of yours," Mulder
said, greeting one of the Lone Gunmen with a smile.

"Gotta go out for beer and chips sometime," Frohike said with a shrug.
"Have you seen the new issue of PC World? The cover story is, 'Ten
Reasons Why Bill Gates is the Anti-Christ.' " Frohike then looked down
in Mulder's basket. "Oh, I see you already have your reading material
for the evening."
        
"I only buy it for the crossword," Mulder said with a weak grin.
        
"How's Scully these days? She ready to dump a loser like you and
come work with us?" Frohike said, hiking his eyebrows. "She's hot,
very hot."
     
"The card," Mulder said with a wince. He almost forgot.

"What card? Is it Scully's birthday?" Frohike said, a lustful glint
in his eye. "Maybe I should send her something. Heh heh."

"It's not her birthday, Frohike. Relax. A medical journal is
publishing her paper on decomposing corpses. I want to get her a
card."
        
"You? Getting somebody a card? Since when did you develop
sensitivity?"
        
Mulder laughed that comment off and resumed his search for the card
aisle. When he found it, he was dismayed at the enormous selection.
        
"How many cards do you need?" he moaned.
        
After some effort he found the "congratulations" area. There were
two distinct styles of congratulations cards: the serious, feminine
ones; and the gags. Mulder was drawn to the joke cards, knowing Scully
would never believe he had a serious side. But the jokes were mostly
stale.
        
After about ten minutes of looking, Mulder was about to give up.
Then he saw it: the perfect card.
        
"Hey, good buddy," the cover read, with a seventies-style drawing of a
truck driver talking into a CB radio mike. Inside was, "Ten-four on
that big accomplishment. Way to go. Over and out."
        
The card was so stupid it made Mulder smile. All of the others only
made him yawn or groan. But this was classic. It was so stupid Scully
would have to laugh. That was part of Mulder's goal. He wanted to let
Scully know how proud he was, but he didn't want to get too sappy.
That just wasn't the way their friendship worked.
        
Stupid card in tow, Mulder headed for the checkout. The female checker
gave him a disapproving look when she scanned the magazine, but Mulder
didn't care. He was making up for it with the card.
        
He arrived at Scully's apartment with a silly grin. He then signed the
card, sealed it in the envelope, and slid it under her front door. She
would never suspect such a kindness from him. Mulder felt sneaky, but
in a good way. Now he could only hope she liked it.

* * *

The next morning, Scully didn't quite know what to make of the
envelope slipped under her door. "Dana Scully" was crudely scribbled
on the outside.
        
"What the . . ." she wondered.
        
Tearing the envelope open, Scully saw the card's cover and couldn't
help but chuckle. Then she read the inside, along with the barely
legible note, "Congratulations on the paper. I'm proud of you," and
Mulder's signature.
        
Scully smiled. It was a dopey card. But it was perhaps the sweetest
she'd ever received. She shook her head at the goofy cover and the
lame
copy.    Then she returned to her bedroom.
    
She looked at the card again, smiled, and stood it on the
nightstand near her bed. It was a place of honor. She could see the
card just before going to sleep and think of how good it felt to know
Mulder was thinking of her, was proud of her. It was priceless.
        
On Monday, Scully thanked Mulder, not wanting to make a big deal of
it, knowing he wouldn't want to make a big deal of it, either. Mulder
smiled shyly, but Scully could tell the gesture had not been minor to
him.  It was a nice moment.
        
"So, what's on the schedule today, Mulder?" Scully said, shifting into
FBI Agent mode.
        
Mulder smiled. "When I was at the supermarket I caught this story in
the Weekly World News about how aliens really assassinated Kennedy. It
could be a hot lead. What do you think?" he asked mischievously.
        
Scully rolled her eyes and smiled. "Sounds great, 'good buddy.'"



END OF STORY

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