Email to dtg
dgoggans@earthlink.net
 

Website: http://home.earthlink.net/~dgoggans/
Rating: PG-13
Keywords: MSR
Category: fill-in-the-blanks
Spoiler: Monday
Archive:  After the Fact, Ephemeral. Others, just let me know first.
Summary: "There may be some truths you're not ready to hear."

Author's Note: I found this in a 'stories in progress'
               folder on my computer and I barely remember
               writing it. Since I can't find any sign that
               it's been posted before... here it is. <g>

~~~~~

In the Moment by dtg

~~~~~
Basement office
Tuesday, 7:51 a.m.
 

Scully could count on one hand the number of times
she'd made it to the office ahead of her partner, and
it never failed to give her a little rush. Her sense
of triumph was brief, lasting only until her vivid
imagination caught up to it. Experience provided too
many unsettling possibilities. Twenty minutes after
she had arrived, she gave up and dialed his
apartment.

Three rings. Four. Her heart was racing by the time
he picked up in the middle of ring number five.

"Yeah."

He sounded fine-- sleepy, but fine. Relief left her
shaky and irritated with herself. "Mulder, it's me."

Rustling sounds and the squeak of leather told her he
was on the couch. "I'm late again, aren't I, Scully?"

She consciously leveled her voice. "No, not yet, but
Skinner wants to see us in his office as soon as
possible. He's asking for our report on the robbery
yesterday."

A door opened and closed, and she guessed he must be
getting the morning paper. Crinkling newsprint in the
background a moment later confirmed it. "I'll be
there in an hour."

"I'd like to hear it, too."  She'd thought of little
else since it had happened, and the more she examined
the sequence of events, the less sense it all made.

"Well, you were there, Scully."

"That's not what I mean. You still won't explain what
happened yesterday-- how you knew that Bernard Oates
was strapped with explosives." That was one question.
She had many.

"Call it a feeling." He voice sounded far away. Flat.

"And it was also a feeling that he had an accomplice
waiting in the car?" *And that you knew his name?*

The newspaper rustled again, and his voice flattened
even further. "I don't think she was an accomplice. I
think she was just trying to get away."

The vague disquiet she'd been tamping down all
morning now had a focus. "Are you okay?"

"I'll be there in an hour." He clicked the phone off
before she could respond.

Scully sat listening to the dial tone for a long
moment. Mulder's mystifying silence had been puzzling
last night. That he still couldn't bring himself to
talk to her about something that-- to him, at least--
had to be an x file had her internal alarms jangling
in unison.

She looked over at the cluttered surface of his desk.
He'd sat there yesterday afternoon for hours, intent
on something he was writing. Sketching, really. She'd
tried to catch a glimpse of the paper he was working
on, but each time she'd approached, Mulder had turned
it over.

She walked over to his desk and began sorting through
the untidy stacks. Almost immediately, she found a
sheet of legal paper tucked under the front edge of
the desk blotter. At first it looked to be nothing
more than one of his phone doodles--  random
scribbles that kept his hands busy while he listened
intently to the nutcase du jour. But Bernard Oates'
name at the bottom left and "Craddock"  scrawled
across the top told her this was what she'd been
looking for.

A fat arrow circling in on itself occupied the center
of the page, its borders traced over so many times
that the paper was indented. At its center was the
number '51', also deeply imprinted with multiple
strokes. Next to Bernard Oates' name was a dollar
sign, and a smaller arrow led from there to the right
hand corner of the page, ending in another circle
drawn with dozens of smaller circles nested one
inside the other. It had the randomness of a doodle,
but--

"Please tell me there's coffee left."

Mulder's voice coming from directly in front of the
desk was her first inkling that he was there. She
gasped and made a grab for her teetering coffee cup.

"Jesus, Mulder! Don't sneak up on me like that!" She
was embarrassed by her reaction and it put an edge in
her voice. She stood quickly and took the paper with
her. "How long have you been standing there?"

"I just got here. Who peed in your cornflakes?" He
gave her an odd look as they traded places. When he
dropped heavily into his chair, Scully placed the
sheet of paper in front of him on the desk.

"I was trying to decipher your notes."

Mulder glanced at the paper, then rolled it into a
tight ball, and lobbed it gracefully into the
wastebasket near the door. "There's nothing to
decipher.
 

"Why do you insist on hearing explanations that you
and I both know you're never going to accept? Is
telling me I'm nuts so damn entertaining that you're
feeling cheated because I don't want to play this
time?"

She crossed her arms and leaned into his space. "What
makes you so certain that I won't believe you?"

His eyes looked so sad for a moment that it made her
ache. "Experience." His voice had resumed the
flatness that had bothered her so much on the phone.
He moved back around the desk and sank wearily into
his chair. "Look, I don't want to fight with you,
okay? Write the damn report with whatever explanation
you like. I'll sign it."

Scully pulled her chair over next to him and sat
down. He was leaning back in his seat with his eyes
closed. When she touched his arm, he opened them but
remained facing forward.

"Mulder, I know you believe the things you tell me.
When I ask for more evidence, it's never because I
doubt you personally. You have to know that by now."

He nodded his head but refused to meet her eyes.
"Yeah, Scully. I know. But there are so many times
when there simply *is* no evidence. Not in any
conventional sense. This is one of those times, and
I just don't have the energy for another marathon
debate that we both know I can't win." He finally
turned to face her. "Just let it go."

She shook her head. "You know I can't do that. This
is a high profile situation. Skinner isn't going to
accept 'Call it a feeling'

"He isn't going to accept the truth, either." He
swiveled his chair to face her, pulling his arm out
of her gentle grasp in the process. "And neither will
you."

"Try me."

Mulder puffed out a long breath. "I'll give you the
short version. I stopped a robbery before it happened
because I knew what Bernard Oates was about to do,
and the reason I knew is that I had lived the moment
before."

It was all she could do to keep her expression
neutral. "Even putting aside for the moment the fact
that time is a universal constant--"

He was shaking his head as he interrupted her. "Not
in this or any other zip code. It stopped being a
universal constant when the first serious studies of
time travel began in 1994. I can cite journal
references, if you like."

"I've read them, and what the articles describe is a
theory, Mulder. They theorize that travel through
time is possible because the natural laws that were
thought to prohibit it have been, for lack of a
better word, 'revised'. That has nothing to do with
the situation you're describing."

"It has *everything* to do with it. What I'm
describing is a loop in time, a repeating segment in
an infinite stream, brought about by an aberration in
that stream. Something that happened out of sequence
and had to be rectified before the stream could
continue."

This time she could not hold back a sigh. "Even if
any of this were possible, how could you retrieve
memories of an event that, from your perspective,
never took place?"

"The short answer is, 'I don't know'. But I can tell
you this, Scully: It happened. I was there."  He
pinned her with his eyes. "And so were you."

Time, in whatever stream they currently occupied, was
rapidly running out. She glanced at her watch. "We'll
have to resume this discussion later. We have just
enough time to write the report and get to Skinner's
office."

"And what are you going to put in this report?"

She was already in front of her computer, fingers
flying over the keys. "As little as possible, Mulder.
We'll both live longer that way."

~~~~~~~

The room was silent except for the occasional rustle
of paper as the Assistant Director turned a page.
Mulder had retreated back into himself before she'd
even finished typing, and he now occupied the seat to
her right in body only. His mind was clearly
elsewhere.  She kept watching him from the corner of
her eye, the concern she'd felt earlier growing by
the moment.

Skinner cleared his throat which immediately drew the
attention of both agents. He closed the report folder
and pushed it toward the front edge of his desk.

"To say that I still have questions would be an
understatement."

Scully straightened her shoulders. "Yes, sir. I know
there are a few gaps, but--"

"Gaps." He pulled the folder back, flipped it open,
and paraphrased Scully's carefully-worded narrative.
"Agent Mulder called from the bank, asked you to take
a woman into custody and bring her to him, based on
his hunch that a man who had made no threatening
moves was going to rob the bank with a bomb, and that
this woman, who had no apparent connection to any of
this, might be able to help." He closed the folder
with exaggerated care and folded his hands atop it.
"I'd say there's a gap or two."

"Sir, the suspect's behavior and attire fit a fairly
standard profile. Agent Mulder's experience and
intuition made it possible for him to identify the
man as a potential threat. The fact that his hunch
turned out to be correct should be proof in itself
that what I've written there is accurate."

Skinner turned his attention to the silent man to her
right. "Agent Mulder? You have nothing to add?"

"No, Sir."

"And the woman outside the bank. You suspected her,
why?"

Mulder shifted in his seat. "She looked as if she
belonged with Oates."

Skinner rubbed his eyes with both hands, pushing his
glasses up in the process. He re-seated them and
sighed. "Bernard Oates is claiming entrapment, by the
way. He says he had no intention of robbing that bank
until you walked up and surrendered your weapon to
him. I see no mention of that in this report. Is that
what happened?"

"Yes, Sir."

Skinner appeared to recognize the futility of probing
any further at this time. "That will be all." He
leaned back in his chair, but there was nothing
relaxed in his posture.

Mulder stood immediately and headed for the door,
drawing an exasperated sigh from Skinner. Scully gave
him a vaguely apologetic smile and followed.

By the time she reached the outer door, her partner
was already down the hall in front of the elevator,
jabbing furiously at the call button. From his
posture, she was expecting anything but the smile he
flashed when she reached his side.

"Hey, Scully! How 'bout those Knicks?"

She masked her confusion with a raised eyebrow and
remained silent.

The elevator dinged its arrival. "Come on, Scully."
He stepped into the elevator and held the door for
her. When she didn't move, he swept his arm in an
expansive gesture. "Your chariot awaits."

She glanced briefly at the ceiling and followed him
in.

It was a strange ride to the basement, with Mulder
exuding way too much cheer and Scully doing a quick
mental scramble trying to follow his abrupt turn.
When the doors opened, he shot through them and
sprinted for their office. Scully watched his
departing back with equal parts confusion and
concern.

When she caught up to him again, he was sitting at
his desk gazing raptly at the computer monitor. "I've
got one for you. A woman in Lexington Kentucky who
claims she can stop time with her garage door
opener."

She walked up and perched one hip on the corner of
his desk, forcing him to lean back. When she crossed
her arms over her chest, he leaned back even more.
"Mulder, we have to talk about this." He raised his
eyebrows and she held up one hand. "Don't even try to
pretend that you don't know what I mean. Mulder, you
have never, in all the years I've known you, let a
little thing like lack of evidence deter you from
trying to sell me on a theory. Why now?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm not sure what I believe."

She felt her mouth drop open. "Excuse me?"

Mulder suddenly seemed uncomfortable, shifting in his
seat and refusing to meet her eyes. "Just let it go,
okay? Believe what you want. I just don't want to
talk about it anymore." He pulled a file from the
stack in front of him and started flipping through
its contents.

Scully watched him in stunned silence for a moment,
then stood. "I was planning to assist with Pam Oates'
autopsy later this afternoon. I think I'll just head
over there now...get a head start."

Mulder nodded but did not comment or even spare her a
glance.

She paused at the door and looked back at him. He
never looked up.

~~~~

Scully was in the car on her way to see Bernard Oates
before she'd even realized she'd made the decision to
do so. No one questioned her right to interview the
man, and she found herself waiting for him in an
interrogation room with no idea of what she was going
to say.

They brought him to her, wrists shackled to a belt
around his waist, eyes empty. His burly guard sat him
down in the chair across from her, then left them
alone.

"Do you remember me, Mr. Oates?"

He nodded. "I already told the police everything."

"I know, and I'm not here to ask you about the
robbery. Not directly, anyway. What my partner told
you in the bank, about the day repeating over and
over. Did you know what he was talking about?" She
had rehearsed this in the car, and it still sounded
as crazy as it had in her head.

Whatever Bernard Oates had been expecting her to say,
this clearly was not it. For a moment, his blank
expression was animated by surprise. "I-I don't know
what you're asking me."

"I'm asking if anything about what he said made sense
to you." He was looking at her like she'd lost her
mind, which was the way she was beginning to feel.

He seemed to consider her question, studying her face
intently. Suddenly his expression changed, eyes
focused on infinity, widening as if the secrets of
the universe had just been revealed to him. "*Pam*
knew what he was talking about."  His voice was very
soft, full of wonder and pain.

"Bernard, what did--"

He seemed no longer to be aware Scully was even in
the room. "She tried to tell me. She said we would
lose everything... She tried..."

"Bernard?" Not the slightest flicker to let her know
he'd heard. Scully rose quietly and pressed the exit
button next to the door. When she looked back at him,
he didn't even seem to be breathing.

~~~~

She had called ahead to have Pam Wallace's autopsy
moved up in the schedule, so the body was prepared
and waiting for her when she arrived. Luck was also
on her side in that her favorite assistant, Mark Liu,
was available. He knew exactly what supplies and
equipment she preferred, and all was in order by the
time she stepped into the chill silence of the
autopsy room. Mark was taking measurements of the
body. He glanced up and smiled when he heard her come
in.

"This looks like pretty standard stuff, Dana. What's
your interest?"

"She was killed in a bank robbery that Agent Mulder
and I stopped yesterday." She pulled on her gloves
and began her preliminary examination.

Mark looked stricken. "God, Dana. I'm sorry. I hadn't
heard. Is Mulder all right? Did one of you..."

"No, nothing like that. Mulder's fine." Physically,
at least. "I just wanted to follow up." She smiled at
him. "It's okay. Really." She waited until he nodded
and returned to his task.

She had no idea what she was expecting to find. After
all, she'd *seen* the woman shot, had even talked to
her briefly. The cause of death was certainly not in
doubt. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that
there was something...

But nothing appeared in her examination. The bullet
had penetrated the woman's left lung and torn through
the pulmonary artery. She had bled to death in
moments. Mark was closing the incisions when Scully
noticed something. There was a matted area in the
hair near the woman's left ear. Scully moved around
the table and lifted the head slightly to get a
better look. She found herself looking down the
woman's thin torso, her hands cradling the head--

*Mulder on the floor, his head in her hands. Gasping,
choking on the blood--*

"Dana!" Strong hands gripped her arms and the shadows
parted. Mark Liu's worried face was inches from her
own. Something hard against her back. She was sitting
on the floor, and he was crouched in front of her.

Her first sensation was profound embarrassment. "I'm
fine," but he held her in place when she tried to get
up.

"Not so fast. You dropped like somebody cut the legs
out from under you." His fingers were resting against
her neck. "And your heart is racing. What the hell
happened?"

Embarrassment evaporated as the horrified panic that
had sent her crashing to the floor returned with a
vengeance. The image of Mulder dying in her arms was
so intense that she was shaking. She had to get out
of here. Now.

"Please, Mark. I just got dizzy. It's nothing." She
rose to her feet, using the wall as support until she
trusted her balance. The young man watched her with
concern, both hands poised to grab her, if necessary.

Scully pushed him gently aside and moved to the sink.
She ripped off the latex gloves and washed her hands.
"I'm fine, Mark, but I need to get back to the
office. Will you finish up for me?" She was relieved
to hear the steadiness of her voice.

"Sure, Dana. I'll handle it. You sure you're okay to
drive? Shouldn't one of the doctors take a look at
you?"

She turned and smiled at him as she dried her hands.
"I *am* one of the doctors. And I'm really fine,
Mark. Please stop hovering."

The need to see Mulder was as baffling as it was all
consuming. She thanked Mark for his help and his
concern, and nearly ran to her car. The drive to the
Hoover Building was a blur, and by the time she got
off the elevator in the basement, she was in a
breathless, unreasoning panic.

The office was locked and empty at one o'clock in the
afternoon. She made a quick search for any clues to
his whereabouts, then dialed his cell number. It went
straight to voice mail.

Scully forced herself to sit down and breathe. The
image of him bleeding to death would not relinquish
its hold, and rationalizing wasn't making a dent in
the panic. The thought occurred to her that she was
damn lucky he wasn't here, because she would surely
have made a total idiot of herself checking him for
wounds. That image slowly began to replace the other,
and she felt herself begin to relax.

Was this what Mulder had been afraid to share with
her? Was it as real to him? She picked up the phone
and dialed his apartment. As she expected, it rang
four times and the answering machine picked up. She
waited for the beep. "Mulder, if you're there, pick
up the phone. I need to talk to you. Please."

She was about to give up when she heard his voice.

"I'm here."

He sounded vaguely irritated, but unharmed. Relief
made her shaky and she tried to keep it out of her
voice. "What's up, Mulder? Why didn't you tell me you
were leaving early?"

"Before you ask, I'm fine. I just didn't feel like
sitting in the office, so I told Skinner I was taking
the rest of the day off. I'll see you tomorrow." He
hung up before she could react.

Thirty minutes later, she was standing outside his
apartment door feeling foolish and anxious by turns.
She was about to walk away when the door swung open.

Mulder smiled and bowed his head in resignation. "I
can't say that I'm surprised. Do you want to come in,
or were you just going to stand out here and listen
for the shot?" He winced at his own pathetic attempt
at humor. "Sorry, that wasn't very funny." He stepped
back and waved her in.

She stopped in the center of his living room. His
computer was on and there were several files open on
the desk next to it. He really had been working.
Mulder closed and locked the door, then walked around
her on his way to the couch. He sank into the
cushions with a weary sigh. "You're really not gonna
let up on this, are you?"

He was sprawled over the far end of the couch with
his left arm along its back and his right dangling
over the side. Scully sat down at the opposite end,
her posture almost military in comparison.

"This isn't about the robbery any more, Mulder. It's
about the fact that you know more than you're willing
to tell me. It's about you censoring the truth in
what looks like an attempt to protect me from it."
She gave him a small smile and added, "And it's the
only way I can stop you from hanging up on me."

He gave her a sheepish grin in return, dropping his
gaze almost shyly. But it passed very quickly, and
when he looked up at her again, his eyes were dark
with worry. "I'm not lying to you, Scully."

"I didn't say you were. I talked with Bernard Oates
for a few minutes this morning. He seemed to remember
something while we were talking, and it upset him. He
couldn't tell me what it was, but I think I found out
for myself." This was hard, and she suddenly
understood part of what had kept him silent. "While I
was doing the autopsy later, I...remembered
something, too."

Her voice had become so soft toward the end that
Mulder had leaned close in order to hear her. He
stayed that way, and his hand moved from the back of
the couch to her shoulder. "What did you remember?"

The tears surprised her, but he had that effect on
her when he was like this. If he lifted her chin with
his fingers, it would be all over. She blinked them
back and kept her face turned down. "I remembered...
or dreamed... I *saw* a different ending. It was so
real--"

"Scully, look at me." Gentle fingers cupped her chin,
and she resisted the pull for a moment. When she
looked up, his eyes were as damp as her own. "Tell me
what you saw."

"I had come looking for you, and Bernard met me at
the door. He was pointing his gun at my head, and I
saw you get up from the floor. He didn't see you, but
a woman screamed and he turned-- " She actually heard
the gunshot, and felt her body recoil in horror.

Mulder grabbed her shoulders, his face creased with
concern. "Scully? It's all right, it's--"

"--he shot you in the chest. I just *stood* there
with my gun pointed at his back! I should have killed
him, but I couldn't move!" Her voice was rising, the
words tumbling over one another in her rush to get
them out. Mulder's grip on her tightened. "When he
started to turn toward you, I should have shot him,
but I just stood there and watched him point the gun
at your chest. I just stood there and let him do it!
You died in my arms, Mulder! It was my fault, I--",
she broke off on a sobbing gasp, and the tears
overflowed, scalding her cheeks with shame.

Mulder pulled her against his chest, his lips
brushing against her hair. His voice was soft, but
vibrating with emotion. "There wasn't anything you
could have done. That's the whole point. Something
*had* to go wrong every time the loop repeated. Until
the right person died."

"Pam." It was barely a whisper, but he heard her.

"Somehow, she cheated death the first time. That's
why she was the only one who knew from the beginning
that the day was repeating. She just didn't know why.
Not 'til the end. She knew enough to warn us... or to
try, at least." His voice tightened, and Scully felt
his heart pounding  beneath her cheek. "I talked to
her after she was shot. She... I think she finally
understood..."

Scully slid her arms around his waist and burrowed
into his warmth, as much to comfort him as herself.
They stayed that way for a long time, until their
emotions began to calm and they became aware of the
intimacy of it all. Comfort was evolving into
something else. Scully felt it just as he pulled
himself gently from her embrace. He squeezed her hand
as he moved back, his smile tinged with regret.

"Mulder, you should not have kept this from me."
There was a bit of anger in her voice, and she let it
stand.

Instead of the denial she'd expected, he brushed his
knuckles tenderly across her tearstained cheek and
nodded. "I know."

She gave him a shaky smile. "Don't think you're going
to disarm me by agreeing with me, Mulder. I'm onto
you." She punched his shoulder lightly, feeling the
last of the tension vanish like fog in sunlight. "You
have to trust me with the truth."

His expression sobered, and his voice fell to a
whisper. "I will if you will."

Ah, he was going for the jugular. "Be careful what
you wish for, Mulder. There may be some truths you're
not ready to hear."

Just for a moment, the truth they had danced around
so carefully for years showed plainly in his eyes.
"Try me."

And for that a moment, it was all she could do to
keep from speaking it aloud.

~~~~

End