By bcfan
bcfan@shaw.ca
 

WEBSITE:  bcfanfic.tripod.com
SPOILERS:  post-episode, First Person Shooter
Written as a Haven Word of the Day Challenge
SUMMARY:  Solipsism, Mulder-style.

***

Mulder imagined a regurgitating mechanical beast and
there he was.

He collapsed next to Scully on the floor of the playing area
entry.  Sore body, but his spirits were caught in the ether -
still touching the game with his mind.  He choked back a
belly laugh as he scanned their paint-scarred clothing and
Scully's unnaturally tangled hair, but he couldn't stop the
smile invading his face, the enthusiasm in his voice.

"That's entertainment!"

Scully glared at him.

Mulder was distracted for a moment when the Gunmen
rushed in to help them up and escort them to the changing
area, but he knew their conversation wasn't over.  Not by a
half-measure.

He started to unsnap his chest protector when Scully strode
next to him and slapped her hand on the frontpiece.

"Mulder, we need to talk."

"Uh, sure."  He glanced nervously at the Gunmen, who
seemed to be inching en masse towards the exit.

"Hey, does everyone want to grab something to eat first?"

"No thanks, man, catch you later," Langly mumbled as the
exit door swung so quickly Mulder was sure it must have
caught at least one of them on the ass.

"Let me change and we can go back to the office and
discuss-"

"No."

"No?"

"Keep the outfit."  Scully's smile seemed disconcertingly
shark-like.

"Sure.  Fine.  Whatever."

Mulder huffed into his trench, thankful to have something
to cover clothing that might seem a tad ridiculous.  Unless
you were a power gamer.

The drive to his apartment felt reverse-telescoped, pulling
longer and longer.  Once inside, Mulder scrubbed his face
with his hands.  He knew what Scully wanted - an
explanation.

"Water?"

"No thanks, Mulder."

He stuck a hand in his trenchcoat's pockets, searching for a
diversion.

"Seeds?"

"No, Mulder.  Could you take off your coat?  I want to
look at you while you explain what the hell - and why the
hell - everything happened."

"Sure."

Mulder slid his coat down his arms, and tossed it towards
his coat rack.  He missed, and scowled.  Mulder's elbows
were pinching and he felt an itch, wanted to strip off his
arm protectors and readjust his codpiece.  He did none of
those things, but instead jokingly held out his arms and
turned slowly.

"Like what you see, Scully?"

Mulder saw a brief flash of smile and felt the room lighten.

"I jumped into the game to save someone, Scully.  But you
know it was fun for me too."

"Why was it fun, Mulder?  Why was it fun to get shot at?
We could have been killed."

"I know."

Mulder draped an arm around Scully and drew her to the
sofa.  He turned to give her as honest an answer as he
could.

"Sometimes reality can get, I don't know, a little too real."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's put it this way - I'm sure you've heard of
solipsism."

"Yes.  It's the doctrine that one is the sole existent, that the
outside world is illusory.  But what's that got to do with
what happened today?"

"Virtual reality games - most virtual reality games -
have no real-life consequence.  You can lose yourself in a
momentary feeling that the real world doesn't exist."
 
Mulder touched the back of her hand thoughtfully.  "After
the undead and brain operations and snakebites, and all the
other crappy things that have happened lately, I just
wanted to check out for a little bit.  You know?"

"Oh, Mulder."

He smiled around the momentary touch of her hand on his
cheek before he continued.

"If you think about it, Scully, virtual reality games are just
the materialist analog of solipsism, in the same way that
Alice in Wonderland is the literary analog."

Scully sighed, but was slowly nodding.  Mulder took that
as a good sign.

"I don't agree with you, but thanks for sharing your
reasons.  And here I thought the game was all about an
immature shoot-'em up power trip."

"That too.  That's one of the virtues of solipsism, Scully -
the total nonexistence of consistency."

"Sounds like a have your cake and eat it too kind of
philosophy to me," Scully grumbled.

"My favourite kind.  By the way, why did you want me to
keep this outfit on, anyway?"

Scully stood and stretched, then headed for the door.

"See you tomorrow."

"And Mulder," she winked, "Everyone enjoys a fantasy."
 

END