Date sent: Sat, 3 Jan 1998 14:51:02 -0500 From: "RICHARD A. ENGBERG" <104432.3357@compuserve.com> Title: Arizona Author: Idgy Rating: pg Category: S Spoilers: season four Keywords: Summary: I spilled coffee on my pants this morning. No, really! Just read the story. It'll only take a minute. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++ ++++++++++ Hello out there in computer land. First of all, please excuse any typos. Secondly, PLEASE, PLEASE, send me mail. Please. Disclaimer: (sigh) *the X-files are the property of Chris carter, 10-13 producdtions, and the Fox network. *the name and initials of the FBI are restricted by law, and cannot be used without written permission. (bitch, bitch, bitch) did I mention mail? That'd be great. 104075,1265@compuserve.com ** Okay, the 37,000 dollar question. As it appears on the X-files, what is wrong with the FBI seal??? the clock is ticking!!** have fun, kids. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&++++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++ Scully laid on the roof of her car, staring up at the western sky. The buzz and hum of a dying motel sign were the only interruption to the bule and purple heavens above her. She heard Mulder's footsteps in the gravel parking lot. "I needed some ice." He climbed up beside her. "Did you know I recognize your gait by sound?" She querried, waxing poetic. He shrugged as best he could with his back against the chrome. "I recognize yours. We've been together for quite a while, Scully. I think it's pretty natural." "Okay, but to have such a familiarity as to recognize another person by the sound of their footfalls?" She agrued. "We're partners, Scully. It's important for us to be familiar with each other." "Shh." "What?" He shifted on the roof of the car until his head laid against the windshield. "The p-word." "The P-word?" He said incredulously. "You mean partner." "Shhh!" "Why?" "Because," she looked up at the dark mass of his hair as it dangled just above her head. "I don't want to be an FBI Agent right now." "Then what do you want to be?" "I want to be a lonely, thirty-four year old woman, without even so much as a house cat to come home to. Lying on teh roof of a car in Arizona and pondering the meaning of life." She half shouted. "You're allergic to cats." "You've ruined the dramatic emphasis of my statement, Mulder." "Sorry. so are you still pondering, or have you figured life out?" "I have figured life out." "Oh, really? You're getting philosphic in your old age, Scully." He asked of a beautifully yellow moon. "Old age??" She said, and he could feel her raising that eyebrow. "Anyway. The meanng of life. So enlighten me." "Life, is all about the little things." She said decisively. "Not philosophers, but fret-sawyers and stamp collectors compose the backbone of society." "hmm. ... Aldous Huxley?" "Yup. You know, we're probably going to damage the car." She reached up to tangle a hand in his hair, which, she discovered, was quite soft. "It's a rental." She made a small noise from somewhere in her throat. "Scully?" "Hmm?" "Was that a laugh?" "Couldn't be." she did it again. "It was." He turned onto his stomach, her hand slipping across his five o' clock shadow and back to her side. He grinned. "you laughed." "So?" "So? So, I haven't heard you laugh, in, eons." He smiled again. "Well, maybe I miss laughing. You try it." "Scully, I can't just laugh on command." "Okay." She thought for a moment. "Louis Freeh, Janet Reno, and a Rabbi walk into a bar-" "Okay, okay. I think I've heard that one." He chuckled. "Mulder?" "Hmm?" "Why don't we laugh anymore?" "Lack of good material?" He made a token offering. "Hey!" Scully protested as Mulder roleld off the car, making it's frame rock and toss her like an ocean wave. "Sorry." "It's okay." She looked to the sky again. "Mulder?" "I'm listening." She looked to the stars. "Do you still believe? I mean, you know." "I don't know, Scully." He scratched his head, suddenly uncomfortable. "I don't know anymore." "Mulder," She rolled onto her stomach as he had done, looking up at his as he stood beside the car. "You can't just give up your quest." "My quest?" "Your quest." "i think my quest ended when I met my sister in a diner four weeks ago." He ran a hand through his hair, finding himself wishing it was her own. "But your quest is for the truth. There are more truths to be discovered, Mulder. DOn't loose our passion. Don't loose your faith." But he had passion, and faith, newly discovered in the woman whose life had been returned to her. And was staring at him from the hood of a car, in Arizona, without even a houscat to go home to. "I'm going inside." "Okay." ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++&+++++++++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++++++++ +++++++++++ okay, that's it. Thanks for reading, and, again, mail me, PLEASE. I'm taking guesses and giving answers to the question at the top. Okay, bye-bye.