By JB
JessLB@aol.com
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: UST, Scully/Other (previous)
CATEGORY: S
SPOILERS: Deep Throat, Beyond the Sea
ARCHIVE: Sure, fine, whatever. Let me know, though.
SUMMARY: A chance meeting in an airport reunites Scully
with a friend from the past, as told from his POV.
DISCLAIMER: Well, the last time I checked, I didn't own
them. If you're really intent on suing me, though, could I have
an autograph?
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Ethan - the nonexistent ex of Scully's,
written but never seen in the Pilot. So what of him? Is the guy
real or not? And what the hell happened between he and
Dana, if he is? I ask far too many questions, and this 'fic is the
result of that. From the lack of Ethan fics out there, I kind of
got the feeling that most people: a) don't know about him; b)
don't care about him; or c) have decided to ignore him. Poor
guy. At any rate, this is my version of what might happen.
PS: If you like this, might you please let me know? My editor
(thanks, Jan!) would like to see two more POVs in this story,
one from each of our heroes. So if you'd like that too, why not
tell me so? Well, now that I'm done groveling for feedback,
on with the show....
-----------------------------
I'm standing near the postcards when I see her.
It's one of those moments where, if it was TV, the music
would get soft and the camera would pan from my face to hers
in this slow circle meant to provide some sense of romance to
the scene. Her hand would lift up to tuck a strand of hair
behind her ears - which she does - and maybe she'd laugh
softly - which she doesn't - and then our eyes would meet
across the room. They don't, which is why this isn't
television.
I can't help but stare at her. It's been years since I've seen her,
six actually, and I want to say that she looks the same but I
can't. I remember a seductively sweet young woman, dead set
on conquering the world, a girl who used to cuddle up with
me on the couch on weekends and watch those cheeky NBC
teenager sitcoms. I can see, even from my distance, that the
woman I'm looking at now is not the same woman who I
bought that engagement ring for.
Putting all those James Bond movies to good use, I move
stealthily across the gift shop, maneuvering behind a display
of t-shirts so that I can see her better. She's browsing a rack of
touristy-type shirts, barely looking at one before moving on to
the next. In thirty seconds time, she's made her way through
half the shirts and has glanced at her watch a total of fifteen
times. I grin. Sometimes its nice to know that while feelings
may change, those little nuances that make us who we are
never do. Patience never was Dana Scully's virtue.
All right, time to make my move. I run a quick hand through
my hair, trying to smooth it down as best I can, and start over
to her. And neatly trip over stray boxes sitting in the middle of
the floor. God damn mother fu...
"Ethan?"
She would look now. God's laughing. I know he is. This is
payback for getting piss drunk last week and not making it
home till after three. As though Rachel's slamming the
bedroom door in my face and sleeping on the couch without
even a pillow for comfort wasn't punishment enough.
I pull myself together, give the boxes on last withering glare,
and turn to smile at her. "Dana?"
Quiet. She's obviously as surprised as I was to see each other
here. Of all the places for a reunion six years in the making,
an airport in the middle of America doesn't seem the
most...likely...of places.
"I - how are you?" she asks, fighting to keep a cool exterior.
"I'm good, I'm good," I answer. "How are you doing?"
"I'm - fine," she says, and I sense there's an inside joke
behind her words from the way she says them, but I don't get
it.
"Scully," someone bellows from across the store. I turn
quickly, and she leans past me to see. Some tall guy - I'd use
lanky, but from the looks of it, he gets called that far too often
- is striding towards us. Yes, striding. Trenchcoat trailing
behind him, shoulders back, grin on face. He reaches us,
neatly cutting in front of me and holds up a shirt to Dana.
"Look."
She looks. I look. Two sets of eyebrows raise. "'Take me to
your leader,'" she muses, suppressing a smile. "I'm sure
Skinner would love seeing that."
Tall Guy seems to notice me at last. He interrupts my internal
confusion on why he's calling her by her last name, glancing
over at me with the briefest of looks. Dana catches the glance-
over and hastens to make introductions.
"Ethan Minette, Fox Mulder." Short, honest, and to the point.
One of the things I loved about -
Excuse me?
Mulder?
Mulder-Mulder?
Fox Mulder, as in, "I have to go to Idaho with Mulder"
Mulder?
I can't help it, my eyebrows raise, and I tense a little, sizing
him up. "*The* Mulder?" I ask her, enjoying the slight blush
on her cheeks. I think he notices it, too.
"Ethan," she murmurs, fingering the t-shirt he so-eagerly
brought over for her.
I turn back to him, sticking out my hand. We shake. "Nice to
meet you, Mulder. I've heard so much about you." I may be
facing him, but my words are purely for Dana.
He quirks a brow. "I haven't heard a thing about you," he says
blandly, moving a little closer to Dana so that he was just a
tad behind her with a better view of me.
Oh, now that's interesting.
You can't be a man and not notice the trademark 'back off'
moves.
Move 1: A gentle hand on a shoulder or back, all the while
maintaining firm eye contact with the 'other.'
Move 2: Any sudden, irrelevant information about their
relationship - children, house, marriage, etc.
And finally, what he's doing right now.
Message received, but that doesn't mean I'm backing down.
"Well, I'm not surprised. How long's it been, Dane, five
years?" I question, immensely enjoying this little tableau.
"Six, I think," she says, not rising to the bait.
I nod understandingly. "So, how's work?"
Dana glances Mulder's way. "Work is fine."
"Don't tell me you're still on the X-Files."
"We just finished up a case, actually," she tells me mildly.
"Catch the bad guy?"
"Like always," she throws back.
"So, Dane," I say lazily, crossing my arms, "how did that
Idaho case go? You know, I always wondered."
Mulder catches on immediately. "We were tricked by a man
pretending to be a reporter, found dead ends on every lead, I
had my memory tampered with at Ellens Air Force Base, and
Scully bailed me out. Normal stuff."
Sc - Dana - looks almost embarrassed. No doubt she can smell
the testosterone by now. I nod at him briefly, then focus on my
ex. "How's Ahab?"
Her eyes harden. "Dad died in '94," she says shortly. "Right
after New Years."
Shit, I didn't know. I tell her as much. Dammit, that man
should have outlived us all. "Jesus, Dana, I'm sorry," I tell her
quietly, honestly, reaching out a hand to rub her shoulder.
She smiles shortly, sadly, and my hand falls away as Mulder's
hand gravitates towards the small of her back. Strike two.
"You're married," she says after an awkward pause, gesturing
at my ring.
"Mm? Wh - yeah. Yeah, two years this month."
She looks ready to answer, but the intercom calls for flight
912.
"That's me," I say, just as Mulder announces, "That's us."
Silence. "Well, um," She searches for the right word. "I -
guess I'll see you on the plane, then."
"It was nice to see you again, Dana," I tell her. She nods, and,
with Mulder's hand on her back, starts to walk out of the gift
shop.
I have a sudden flashback - March, 1993. She had just
climbed under the covers and I spooned up against her,
seductively caressing her arm. She simply leaned over and
turned off the light, fluffed her pillow, and prepared to sleep.
'Hey,' I'd whispered in her ear, 'how about a little one on
one?'
'Ethan,' she'd said reproachfully. 'I have to go to Idaho
tomorrow, and I need a good night's sleep.'
'What?' I'd sat up in bed, switching on the light. 'Dana, this
is - this is beyond ridiculous. First Oregon, now fucking
Idaho? What's next week, Russia?'
'Ethan, I don't want to go through this now,' she said angrily.
'This is my job. We investigate where we need to. I can't
control where I need to be!'
'You need to be with me!' I retorted.
'I need to be with Mulder, he's my partner.' Her voice
lowered and she spoke in a carefully controlled voice. 'Look.
I'm sorry. But this is my job. Now, I am going to Idaho
tomorrow with Mulder. I will be back as soon as I can, and
then we can discuss this. Okay?'
'I won't be here when you get back from Idaho, Dana. I'm not
going to sit at home and wait while you're off with some other
guy, chasing aliens across the country.'
She had fallen quiet for a moment. 'Then I'm sorry you feel
that way.'
And she left, of course, the next day. We had been on the
rocks for a few months, neither of us willing to admit there
was a problem. In retrospect, I guess Mulder and the X-Files
were just a part of our break-up, but at the time, I wanted to
pummel the guy's face in. I met up with a beautiful brunette
named Rachel while moving into my new apartment the next
day, and after two years of pretending we were 'just friends,'
we finally got our acts together and decided it was love. We
got married two years later.
I was wrong to have made her choose between her job and me
- which now would seem to instead be between Mulder and I.
I don't think they were sleeping together then; Dana loved
me, I know that much. And if I wasn't already happily married
to Rach, I might just catch up to her and ask if I could look
her up sometime. If I wasn't married, and if I wasn't one
hundred percent certain her little partner, boyfriend,
bodyguard whatever would strike me dead, I would catch up
to them.
Seems, through some twist of fate, that our seats are across
the aisle from each other. I catch Mulder's eye about an hour
into the flight and smile at him. No competition, I tell him
mentally. I think he gets it, because he nods, the glare on his
face fading a little. We both look at Dana, dead to the world
on his shoulder. He brushes the hair off of her face with the
gentlest of gestures before closing his own eyes.
I close mine, too, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to get
back to my Rachel.
Yeah, I think. Some things were just meant to be.
the end.
~~~~
By JB
JessLB@aol.com
RATING: PG
SPOILERS: Deep Throat, Beyond the Sea, Pilot, TGTSC
ARCHIVE: Spooky's and Gossamer are fine. Everyone else, let me know.
DISCLAIMER: Does anyone actually read these things?
SUMMARY: A chance meeting in an airport reunites Scully with
someone from the past. Sequel to "Flight 912, Row 19."
* Mulder's POV, coming soon, to a computer screen near you. *
**************
I broke my New Year's resolution in February. I broke it again yesterday.
I told myself that I wasn't going to chase after him anymore. Ghostbusting
on Christmas Eve was not my idea of spreading Yuletide cheer.
And when he called my apartment at 6:19 a.m. on a Saturday morning,
I
curtly told him to remember what he promised me.
'No running after X-Files on weekends,' we said dryly, in unison.
'But this isn't just any X-File, Scully,' he'd said eagerly. I imagined
him
scooting forward on his couch in anticipation of breaking me down.
'This
woman in New Mexico has had dreams every Friday night for the past
three weeks, each dream coinciding with a murder.' He paused, waiting
for my reply. I gave him none. 'Anyway, these murders just happen to
be
the same murders she witnessed in her dreams. She's not crazy, either,
I
checked her records,' he continued immediately.
So here we are. Stranded in Podunk, New Mexico because Mulder
overslept and we missed our original 8:45 a.m. flight.
Oh, and the case?
Woman has dreams of murders because - drumroll, please - woman *is*
the murderer.
I spent forty minutes trying to rouse my dead-to-the-world partner,
finally
managing to get him to this airport with a good half hour to spare.
We sat
down facing the window, only to have Mulder jump up thirty seconds
later
mumbling something about t-shirts and a gift shop 'right over there'.
Again, I told myself I wouldn't chase after him.
Somehow, the thought of Mulder alone in a gift shop, surrounded by
trinkets and worthless tourists' shirts, prompted me get moving. Last
time,
we came home with three extra shopping bags.
So now I'm standing in this entirely too-small gift shop, watching my
partner meander his way through the store. He examines each item with
a
critical eye. He almost missed the alien figurine display in the back.
Almost.
I sigh, moving closer to a rack of touristy-like t-shirts. The logos
blend
together in a whirl of white:
R O S W E L L
7-4-47
We Are Not Alone
An alien smoking.
This is not happening, I chant to myself. I flip through the rack faster,
yanking one aside one right after another, until the sound of collapsing
boxes tears me away. I turn my head, welcoming the distraction.
And am amazed to find my ex sprawled on his ass.
"Ethan?" I ask in disbelief.
He jumps up, brushing himself off quickly, and moves towards me.
"Dana?"
"I - how are you?" I manage to get out. Calm, Dana. Stay cool.
"I'm good, I'm good," he says. "How are you doing?"
"I'm - fine," I tell him, fudging a little. Not that I'm *not* fine,
but if I
said I was great, he'd try to delve into my life, and if I didn't,
he'd get smug,
and I -
He always could get me flustered.
"Scully!" Mulder practically bellows from across the store. He walks
over
to where we're standing, grinning. Oh, no, that's not a t-shirt he's...
He steps up to us, insinuating himself unconsciously between Ethan and
I.
"Look."
I look, somewhat reluctantly. You never know with him. My eyebrows
shoot up immediately. Oh, Mulder. "'Take me to your leader,'" I read,
suppressing a smile. "I'm sure Skinner would love seeing that."
Mulder looks ready to answer when Ethan quietly clears his throat behind
us. Mulder turns, glancing over him curiously. I notice the look and
hasten
to make introductions.
"Ethan Minette, Fox Mulder." No need for Mulder to know about Ethan
and I.
"*The* Mulder?" Ethan asks. I groan inwardly. Should have known it
wouldn't work.
"Ethan," I say quietly, passively, sending him a shock of mental
communication. Please don't do this.
He ignores me, turning to my partner and sticking out his hand. I watch
cautiously as they shake. "Nice to meet you, Mulder. I've heard so
much
about you," greets Ethan. I knew this man well
enough in my past to know exactly what he's doing.
Mulder raises an eyebrow, and I right away sense he's gearing up for
battle. "I haven't heard a thing about you," he says innocently.
"Well, I'm not surprised. How long's it been, Dane, five years?" I cringe
at
the old nickname. Ethan's like a goddamn unstoppable train.
He's watching me, expecting me to let him win. I meet his gaze steadily.
"Six, I think."
He nods. "So, how's work?"
I sneak a glance at Mulder, willing him not to say a word. "Work is fine."
"Don't tell me you're still on the X-Files."
"We just finished up a case, actually," I tell him, discreetly checking
the
clock across the room.
"Catch the bad guy?"
"Like always," I reply evenly.
"So, Dane," Ethan says, a little smile on his face. He crosses his arms.
"How did that Idaho case go? You know, I always wondered."
I count the seconds it takes for Mulder to get it. One, tw --"We were
tricked by a man pretending to be a reporter, found dead ends on every
lead, I had my memory tampered with at Ellens Air Force Base, and
Scully bailed me out. Normal stuff."
Atta, boy.
That's my Mulder, he never disappoints. I sneak a peek at the two men,
who I've just noticed are in an all-out stand off. Mulder's moved so
that
he's behind me - this makes glaring at Ethan much
easier for him. Ethan's a little tense, waiting for Mulder's next move.
I
can't help but feel a sense of womanly achievement. The smell of
testosterone is slowly layering the room.
Finally, Ethan glances back at me. "How's Ahab?"
I straighten instantly, walls erected. "Dad died in '94," I say briefly.
"Right
after New Years."
"Jesus, Dana, I'm sorry," he says quietly, and I know he's telling the
truth.
He and Ahab had grown close in the year and a half I had dated Ethan.
He
was the only guy my father ever hinted was okay to marry. He reaches
out
a hand and it rests on my shoulder in a familiar gesture.
I force a small smile as his hand falls away. My eyes glance down and
I
notice the glint of a gold band. There's a terse pause. "You're married,"
I
murmur gesturing at his ring.
"Mm? Yeah. Yeah, two years this month."
I open my mouth to reply, but the intercom beats me to it. "Flight 912
now
boarding, flight 912 now boarding," a nasal, bored voice announces.
"That's me," Ethan tells me, just as Mulder announces, "That's us."
I guess there's nothing else to say. We all try not to shuffle our feet,
failing miserably. Finally, I break the silence."Well, um...I guess
I'll see you on
the plane, then."
"It was nice to see you again, Dana," he says, and we turn to leave.
I hold
his gaze for a moment, remembering how we were, what we might have
been.
If I were being honest with myself, I would say that our breakup was
my
fault more than his. I was twenty-nine years old, just starting my
partnership with Mulder. I had illusions of grandeur, I suppose. I
wanted
to make ASAC at a field office by 35. I planned on making AD by 45.
Hell, the rate I was going, I could have done it too.
If I were to go all out and spill my heart, I could also say that I
made my
decision to stick by Mulder on that first case. Seven men have seen
me au
natural, and he became the eighth that first case when I decided the
hell
with Bureau policies and dropped my robe in his hotel room. By the
time
he'd given me my plane ticket to Idaho four months later, I knew that
if it
came down to choosing between the X-Files and a life, I'd choose the
X-Files. And I did. We had a fight the night before my plane left,
and
Ethan was moved out when I came home. I went out on five dates during
my first year with Mulder and less than a handful in the years after
that.
We leave the gift shop and board the plane, taking our usual seats -
me by
the window, he by the aisle. I settle down, ready for a nap after chasing
after our suspect till midnight. Mulder generously offers me his shoulder,
and I need no further encouragement. I lay my head down, close my eyes,
and drift off. I'm jostled awake some minutes later as someone struggles
to pass Mulder's lanky frame. I look up in time to see a look pass
between
my past and my present. I swallow a satisfied smile and close my eyes
again.
I see Ethan momentarily after we land. He's hurrying towards a tall
brunette, who's grinning. I watch them kiss and grope like they've
been
apart for a month before Mulder's hand settles on my back and we start
for
the car.
He drives me to my apartment, waiting patiently as I unlock the door.
I
stumble in the darkened room. I walk to the bedroom, dropping my
overnight bag on my bed, then return to the living room to find my
partner
lounging on the couch.
"Comfy?" I ask dryly, sitting down next to him.
Mulder offers a brief smile before deciding that my couch needs
inspection. "Scully?" he asks suddenly.
I swallow a sigh, sensing a Deep Talk on the way. "Mulder?"
"Why," he begins, after a quick throat-clearing and a pause, "why
didn't you tell me about Ethan?"
I settled back, draping one hand over the back of the couch. "Probably,"
I
said mildly, injecting the slightest bit of sarcasm, "for the same
reason you
didn't tell me about Diana."
His eyes shoot up to meet mine, and we wage a defiant war before he
capitulates. "Truce," he murmurs.
"Listen, Mulder," I tell him, lightly tapping his knee. "I know you
think
that you ruined my dreams of a normal life and that I'm going to spend
the
rest of our lives bemoaning my lost youth, but seriously - I chose
this life.
And I wouldn't have it any other way."
We pause for a heavy moment before Mulder breaks the spell. He leans
over and brushes a light kiss on my forehead before getting up and
grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door. I follow him.
"See you tomorrow, I guess," he says, opening the door.
"Your turn for bagels," I remind him as he heads off down the hall.
He
waves a hand over his head, and I can feel him rolling his eyes good-
naturedly. I watch his figure disappear around the corner before closing
and locking my door.
As much as I sometimes wish things were different, I honestly have no
regrets. I told him the truth.
I really wouldn't have it any other way.
*
the end.
**************
http://members.tripod.com/~SueBridehead_2/fanfic.html