By ML
msnsc21@aol.com
 

Date: Thu, 06 Sep 2001
Distribution: Ephemeral, Gossamer, yes; if you've archived me before,
yes; otherwise, please just let me know and leave headers, email
addy, etc. attached. Thanks!
Spoilers: The Jersey Devil
Rating: PG-13
Classification: Vignette
Keywords: Scully POV
Summary: Survival of the fittest.

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, they belong to Chris
Carter, TenThirteen, and Fox Broadcasting.  I mean no infringement,
and I'm making no money.
 

Scully's Journey 3: Having a Life
by ML

Friday evening.

Mulder's enthusiasm is hard to resist, and I'm finding his interest
in the unusual and the abnormal catching.  I find myself looking for
interesting tidbits to tell him.  Sometimes he's dismissive:  "Oh,
Scully, I heard about that the other day."  I feel a sense of pride
when I tell him something that makes him stop for a second.  Even
better is when I see that spark in his eyes that shows me what I've
told him means something to him.  Sometimes he pulls out an old X-
File that deals with something similar.  Other times, we're off to
the races.  I try to keep up as best I can.  His mind works so fast,
and his long legs move even faster.

So far, most of the time I drop everything to follow him.  But not
always.  I'm trying to have a life.

Today, I did a little of both.  I went with Mulder to New Jersey to
pursue a lead on, of all things, the Jersey Devil.  Of course Mulder
believes the Jersey Devil actually exists.  I mentally kicked myself
all the way to Atlantic City for even bringing it up.  When I told
him the story this morning, I thought he'd get a charge out of it,
that's all.  He'd make some smartass comment, and then he'd go back
to investigating the claims of Miss Anti-Gravity, as he was when I
came in this morning.  It just goes to show that I still haven't
figured out how my partner's mind works, and what's going to grab his
interest.

It was a wasted trip in my opinion, and of course I tried to tell
Mulder that, if he couldn't see it for himself.  The ME was
cooperative, but the detective was not.  He was being pretty
territorial, in fact.  He and Mulder circled each other like...I
don't know what, but I thought for a minute I could hear growling.  I
got Mulder to back down a little, but I have the feeling if I hadn't
been there, it might have escalated.

What is it about men and their pissing contests?   The ME, Glenna,
was willing to tell us whatever we wanted to know until Detective
Thompson came in.  It occurred to me that Mulder could have sent me
there, and I would have gotten more information than he did, just
from talking to the ME.  Well, maybe I would have, anyway.  I don't
make the associative leaps that Mulder does.  Sometimes the questions
he asks make no sense to me at all.  It wouldn't have occurred to me
to ask them.

But frankly, all the leaps in the world won't help him if he doesn't
learn to make nice with the local authorities.  He's patience itself
with a witness, but hell on wheels where other law enforcement is
concerned.

I just hope he stays clear of Detective Thompson while he pokes
around.  Despite my protests, Mulder insisted on staying in Atlantic
City for the weekend, to check things out.  He suggested I do the
same -- not at all like a come-on, it's all strictly business with
Mulder, even if sometimes what he says *sounds* like a come-on -- but
I had to decline.

He got the funniest expression on his face when I told him I had to
be back home before 6:30.  He asked if I had a date, in a kind of
incredulous tone.  I almost hated to admit that it wasn't a date,
just my godson's birthday.

Why should I care if Mulder thinks I have a date?  Though now that I
actually *have* one, I may have to drop that bit of information
casually just to see what Mulder's reaction is.

Frankly, I'm as surprised as Mulder that I have a date.  Not that
I've actively avoided opportunities, but there haven't been many
lately.  I've sworn off the idea of dating anyone from work -- after
Jack, I realized just what a bad idea that was -- and where else am I
likely to meet someone?  I don't do the club scene, I don't have the
energy any more.  The Laundromat?  Church?  On the jogging trail?
All likely places, but very hit or miss.

I complained a little about it to Ellen tonight while I was helping
her at Trent's party.  She asked me point-blank about Mulder.
Mulder, of all people.  He's my partner, for crying out loud.  I told
her once that I thought he was cute, and she latched on to that.

My initial response surprised me.  I said, "He's a jerk," but
immediately took it back.  I didn't really mean it, though I was
still a little pissed off at him for behaving the way he did in
Atlantic City.  I didn't want to take time to explain all the reasons
why having anything personal to do with Mulder would be a very bad
idea.

It's funny, the thoughts and responses that can go racing through
your head in the space of a few seconds.  If Ellen was still single,
and we were having a girl's night out, I would have sat drinking wine
and gleefully dissected Mulder with her and not thought twice about
it.  But there she was, in her pretty kitchen, pregnant again, with
that slightly patronizing air that married women get around their
single counterparts, and I couldn't do it.

I said yes when Rob asked me out as a defense mechanism as much as
anything else.  I'm not really looking forward to it, but with Ellen
urging me, I couldn't say no ... especially since I'd just been
complaining about the lack of eligible men.

Well, the date's not until Monday.  With Mulder in Atlantic City for
the weekend, I can pretty much count on having a little peace and
quiet.  Though I wouldn't discount the idea that he might call and
try to persuade me once again to join him.  If he really, truly,
uncovers something, I might just do that.

XxXxX

Sunday night.

It's certainly been a quiet weekend, without any calls from Mulder.
I got a lot done, but I've been wondering how he's doing.  Maybe he
did just decide to enjoy a weekend in Atlantic City.  That must be
it, since I know if he's found something, however improbable, he
would call me right away, and try once again to get me to meet him
there.  I can't really picture Mulder having a one-night stand, but I
can't say I know a lot about his private life.  We just don't talk
about things like that.

It probably would do him some good to blow off some steam.  I told
Ellen that Mulder was obsessed with his work, and it's true.  I'm not
sure he ever takes a full day off.

It occurs to me that I really know very little about Mulder's
interests outside of work -- except he seems to like girlie
magazines, as evidenced by the way he's often looking at them when I
enter the office.  I suspect, however, that he does it for my
benefit -- sort of a hazing, or something.  He certainly doesn't hide
them from me, and he makes jokes about them all the time.  If he
expects the sight of them to rattle me, they don't. I have two
brothers, after all.

Other than his selection of reading materials, I have no idea what he
does for fun or what he likes to do in his off hours.  The way he
calls me all the time, I don't think he has much of a life outside of
work.  I don't know if he has a girlfriend, or even if he dates
casually.  Before I was partnered with Mulder, I used to hear a
little gossip about him -- mostly speculation, as he didn't seem to
have any interest in anyone at the Bureau.  Though plenty seemed
interested in him.

This is pointless.  Mulder's private life is none of my business.  I
just hope that whatever he's doing, he's enjoying himself.  Maybe
he'll tell me about it on Monday morning.  Or, if he doesn't
volunteer, maybe I'll ask him.

XxXxX

Monday night.

Well, Mulder did uncover something in Atlantic City, but not what I
expected him to find.

He called me from the drunk tank this morning -- which is now all
over the Hoover Building, thanks to my squawking it out in surprise.
He'd been there since early Saturday morning.  The local cops,
courtesy of Detective Thompson, gave him the "tour."  Of course, I've
heard of this:  a detainee getting lost somewhere in "the system,"
but I didn't think that they'd do it to a fellow officer of the law.
I guess I underestimated Mulder's ability to piss people off.

He didn't seem particularly humiliated when I picked him up, though
he smelled pretty bad, and he looked bad, too -- he told me he'd
slept in a dumpster Friday night, then in the holding cell, with no
access to soap or water, and no change of clothes.  I took him to a
diner, and he ate enough for about three people, talking nonstop all
the while about what he thought he saw, and trying once again to
convince me I needed to stay in Atlantic City with him to investigate
further.

Once again, I had to turn him down, and this time I did tell him I
had a date.

He actually stopped shoveling food into his mouth and looked at me
for a few seconds.  I'm not sure what I expected him to say, but "Can
you cancel?"  wasn't it.

It stung me a little, and I got snippy with him.  I told him that
unlike him, I was trying to have a life.

"I have a life," he said defensively, and I didn't even have to say
anything, I just looked at him.  He knows the truth as well as I do.
He just sort of shrugged.

I was beginning to wonder if he was going to chuck everything and
make the search for the Jersey Devil his life's work.  I played my
trump card to get him to come back to Washington with me.  I'd called
my former anthropology professor, Dr. Diamond, and I took Mulder to
see him.

They really hit it off.  I think that Dr. Diamond was as excited by
the prospect of some kind of "missing link" as Mulder seemed to be.
I had a bad moment when Dr. Diamond said something about "alien life
forms" but Mulder was so intent on his own theory -- having nothing
to do with extraterrestrials, for a change -- that he didn't
respond.

All the same, my attempt to introduce scientific theory, to counter
Mulder's wild conclusions, didn't work out quite the way I envisioned
it. I certainly didn't count on Dr. Diamond giving any credence at
all to Mulder's ideas.  It's fascinating to watch Mulder in full
cry.  He believes so fully in what he's saying.  I think he swept Dr.
Diamond right along with him.  He just kept trying to get Dr. Diamond
to admit that what he, Mulder, was positing was "within the realm of
extreme possibility."  Finally, Dr. Diamond gave in and said "it
would be an amazing discovery."  He made Mulder promise to keep him
abreast of any discoveries he made.  Maybe Dr. Diamond was succumbing
to the old "publish or perish" syndrome.  If nothing else, he could
write a paper offering proof that there is, in fact, no such thing as
the Jersey Devil.

But at least I did get Mulder back to Washington.

Naturally, he reverted to his usual pattern back on his home turf.
He paged me in the middle of my date to let me know the latest
development in the case.

I was annoyed at first -- no, strike that.  I'm not sure that I was
annoyed at all.  Not that I have anything against Rob.  He's a very
nice man, and he took me to a nice place for dinner -- and spent the
whole time talking about his ex-wife and her new husband, and his
feeling that he needed to compete with them for his son's affection.
Talk about being territorial!  But it was either that, or the finer
points of estate planning.

I could just put it down to first date nervousness.  He *was* very
nice.  But I found him ... well, dull.

This is not to say I'm comparing him to Mulder.  Not as date
material, certainly.  I've already said Mulder's not in the running,
and never will be.  But for interesting conversation, Mulder's got
just about everyone I know beat.  Sometimes I just can't wait to hear
what he's going to come up with next.  Somehow, talking about
ordinary subjects seems ... ordinary now.

At any rate, we're going back to Atlantic City tomorrow.  The ranger
Mulder befriended says another body has been  found.  Mulder is now
convinced that the person, or creature, he's looking for, is female,
forced out of hiding by the death of her mate.  Mulder called Dr.
Diamond, too, and he's coming with us.

XxXxX

Tuesday evening.

Except for a few loose ends, I guess we can consider the case of
the "Jersey Devil" closed.  Mulder is terribly disappointed, and I'm
angry on his behalf for the way it went down.  Not that I'm entirely
pleased with the way Mulder handled himself, either, but I feel a
little territorial about others chastising him.  They do it out of
ignorance, and I do it out of concern for him.

Mulder was determined to take this creature alive, if he could, and
just about got himself killed in the process.  It didn't help that
Detective Thompson deployed a SWAT team to the site where we were.
Talk about using an atom bomb to destroy a butterfly!  Not to
mention, some trigger happy idiot could have killed one of us.  They,
and we, were swarming all over the building, and it's amazing no one
got hurt.  No one but Mulder, that is.  He was attacked by the beast
woman.

I don't really like calling her that, but I guess it's marginally
better than the Jersey Devil.  I didn't really get a good look at her
until she was captured in the forest, and then it was too late.

Anyway, amid all the confusion, Mulder was the only one to encounter
the woman.  I found him lying dazed on the dirty floor, and she'd
already escaped.  I don't know if I scared her off before she could
do more harm to Mulder, or if she spared him for some other, unknown
reason.

The first words out of Mulder's mouth when I reached him:  "You
shoulda seen her, Scully.  She's beautiful."  Maybe he was a little
delirious; after all, the woman had taken quite a gouge out of him.
But he said it with such a sense of wonder.  For all his smart-ass
talk, Mulder has a depth of feeling and compassion I didn't expect to
find in him.  He holds people at arm's length, but it's very evident
that he has feelings.  He just doesn't show them easily.  I must
remember that.

While Mulder's wounds were being tended to, I did my best to get us
jurisdiction over the case, and stop Thompson and his mob from
shooting the woman in cold blood.

While this was happening the woman escaped into the woods.  We
sighted her again, and Ranger Bouillet managed to get the
tranquilizer dart into her, but it didn't seem to have any effect.

What it did was slow her down enough to be trapped by  Thompson's
men.  She attacked one of them, and they shot her.  Not to wound, but
to kill.

Mulder was just about beside himself.  When Thompson called her a
rabid animal, I thought Mulder was going to deck him.  They started
the hackles-raised circling routine again, and I had to step in,
though I would have cheerfully hit Thompson myself.

I regret that I didn't take the case more seriously from the outset.
It just seemed so farfetched, and even Dr. Diamond's interest didn't
clue me in that there might be more to it than meets the eye.  Mulder
hasn't said anything, and I don't guess he will, but I feel like I've
let him down, somehow.

I treated him the same way the others did, and it was wrong.  It's
one thing to insist on scientific fact, and it's another to dismiss a
theory, however outrageous, without some investigation into it.
 

XxXxX

Friday night, one week after Atlantic City.

Mulder has been moping around all week.  His wound was severe enough
to get him restricted duty, so we've been in the office, doing
paperwork.  He hasn't said anything, but I know he's still obsessing
over the Jersey Devil case.

The autopsy reports finally came through today.  Dr. Diamond lobbied
hard to get permission to do the autopsy, and he promised to give me
a full report.  I gave the results to Mulder this morning.

Predictably, he got very excited, and managed to adapt his theory to
fit the new facts of the case.  That's when I lost it.  I suggested
in the strongest possible terms that he needed to take a break --
even if it was only to go have a beer.  He barely paused to consider
what I said, already intent on his new "lead."  He'd evidently been
doing some research, and he told me that now that he had the results,
he was going to talk to an ethno-biologist he'd contacted at the
Smithsonian.

The phone rang just as he was leaving.  With that faint look of
surprise he gets when it's for me, he handed over the phone, and
without waiting for me, he left the office.

It was Rob, asking for another date.  I had another of those moments
where so many thoughts and feelings raced through my brain.  Did I
really want to pursue this?  Was Rob someone I could see myself
with?

I let him down gently and went to join Mulder.  He seemed at once
both a little surprised and pleased to see me at his elbow.

I had to take a little good-natured teasing about having a life, but
that was okay with me.  It meant that Mulder was himself again, and
all was well in our strange little corner of the world.  Besides, I
can dish it out right back to him.  "Keep it up, Mulder," I told
him, "and I'll hurt you like that beast woman."

At the risk of sounding like Mulder, I do have a life.  And I'm
enjoying it, in all its weirdness.  It's not the life I thought I
would have at this age, and certainly not anything I envisioned doing
even a year ago, but it certainly isn't dull.

I'm noting a pattern in these informal reports.  I seem to spend a
lot of time thinking about, and analyzing, my partner.  He holds my
attention the same way the beast woman seems to have held his.  He's
certainly someone out of the ordinary, differently evolved than most
men I know.  To understand him requires observation and study.

At least now I know what his taste in women is.

end.

Author's notes:  I tried to approximate the timeline of the ep as
best I could.  There were lots of discrepancies in the ep itself, but
it made sense to me that Mulder could have spent the weekend lost in
the police bureaucracy, if they were mad enough at him.  More sense
than to have Scully walking through the FBI filled with people on a
*Saturday* to take the call from Mulder.

next up:  "Ice"

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