From: miranda119@juno.com Date: Wed, 8 Jan 2003 01:55:48 GMT Subject: Bed In the Bedroom by Miranda and Katchat Source: direct Title: A Bed in the Bedroom Author: Miranda and Katchat Rating: PG Category: VH, post episode (Dreamland2) Summary: Mulder discovers some things that Scully and Fletcher forgot to put away. Disclaimer: Characters and such belong to CC. If we don't write, then Mulder and Scully don't live! Don't hold it against us. I have seen some pretty strange things in my time. I wasn't really surprised by losing nine minutes of time. It didn't throw me when I beheld alien bounty hunters turn into green slime or killer cockroaches or a man who could create fire with his mind. I didn't get worked up when Eddie Van Blundht turned himself into me. I retained my composure as cannibals tried to eat my partner and even as I beheld a spacecraft rising out of the ground in Antarctica only a few months ago. But there is a bed in my bedroom. I'm thrown. I'm frightened. I'm flabbergasted. This morning I left with Scully to find the truth in Nevada, tonight I'm home with nothing except a frustrated partner to show for it, and I walked into my apartment to find someone had come in today and redecorated. Who in the world could be responsible for this? Food in the fridge? Irritating little blue lights everywhere? An apron that reads "Something smells good"? Nothing in my apartment has ever smelled good. But the most incomprehensible notion is that someone could have cleared out ten years of papers, files, and junk from my bedroom and put in a king sized, jungle themed waterbed complete with overhanging mirror, all in the space of about 15 hours! I'm not sure whether to call Scully or the police. As I stand in my new bedroom, something catches my eye. Two wine glasses and an opened but untouched bottle of wine sitting on the nightstand. As I come closer to investigate further, I notice something else. A pair of handcuffs, one side cuffed to the bed. A crazy thought enters my head and I turn the handcuffs over. Sure enough, an FBI badge number is neatly scratched into a corner in tiny numbers. I'm not completely sure, but I think I know who the number belongs to. I go to my desk in the other room and pull out one of our recent reports. Sure enough, the number at the top next to my partner's name matches the number on the handcuffs. I am speechless. What did Scully mean by all this? Was she trying to tell me something? And if so, what in the world was she trying to say? I pick up the phone hesitantly. Unsure of exactly what to ask her, I press the speed dial button for her cell phone. She answers after two rings. "Scully." I can tell she is walking. "Scully, are you home yet?" I ask curiously. "No, I'm walking to my car." She replies. I marvel at the innocence in her voice. She certainly had me fooled. "I just wanted to call and thank you for the...uh...gift....you left me today." There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. Finally I heard a car door shut and she spoke. "Mulder, what are you talking about?" "Come on Scully, enough with the playing innocent. I know you did it." "Mulder, I don't have an earthly idea of what you're talking about!" She was beginning to sound annoyed. Genuinely annoyed. "Well, why don't you come over here and refresh your memory." I suggest, a little perturbed myself. "Mulder, it is one o'clock in the morning and the only place I am going right now is home to bed." Her voice was firm. "Fine. Just do me a favor and bring your handcuffs to work tomorrow." I requested shortly, then hung up the phone. I started out on the couch that night, just like have done for ten years. But around 2:30 I awoke, and I simply could not get comfortable enough to return to sleep. So somewhat hesitantly I got up, and a few seconds later I felt myself slipping into the most comfortable bed I think I have ever slept on. The sheets were so soft, and if I had known anything about thread counts I would have assumed theirs to be the highest that is made. There was an automatic heater that immediately began to warm the bed, and the gentle wave motion from the water lulled me into the most peaceful sleep I have experienced in years. Needless to say, I overslept. There was a knock on the door about 8:30. I quickly exited the bed and the bedroom, closing the door carefully as if I had been indulging in some guilty pleasure. I went to the door, forgetting I was clad only in my boxers. Scully stood on the other side of the door, and gave me a tolerating once over. "Nice." She motioned to my attire. "But I don't think Kersch would approve of you going to the meeting we have in 15 minutes dressed like that." "I overslept." I mumbled as she followed me inside. I grabbed the suit that was hanging over the chair and pulled on my pants. When I looked back at her, she was looking around thoughtfully at my apartment. "Something's different." She mused, confusion obvious on her face. "Did you redecorate?" Just the notion made her snicker, and I rolled my eyes. "No, I thought you were responsible for this. I came home last night and found this." "Why did you think it was me?" She paused from her chuckling to ask me. I pulled on my shirt and began to button it. "Did you find your handcuffs?" I asked her pointedly. She put her hands on her hips. "You know, it's the weirdest thing, I can't find them anywhere." She shook her head. "I always keep those things in my top dresser drawer and everything was there except my handcuffs." I could tell she was being honest. I was beginning to think this was some kind of bizarre set up. I finished tying my tie and went to the desk, picking up the handcuffs and holding them out to her. "Found these." "What?" She exclaimed, grabbing them and inspecting the number on the back. "How did you get these?" "I have no idea." I told her honestly. I could tell as she searched my face that she believed me. Both of us were quiet for a long moment. "Well, someone must be toying with us." She concluded. I shrugged. "I guess your right." I agreed. She kept staring at the handcuffs and shaking her head. "Weird." * * * * * * Maybe it was just my imagination. I am a guy, after all. When a woman looks at me that way, my mind tends to wander. It certainly had appeared that Kersch's assistant cast a rather suggestive glance my way while Scully and I were waiting for the meeting to begin. I don't recall any actions on my part to encourage the attention from such an attractive colleague. Then again, I am a pretty good looking guy. "Agent Mulder?" Kersch's sarcastic drawl burst through my thoughts. I readjusted my position in my chair and cleared my throat, stalling for time as I tried to remember what my superior had just asked me. I glanced uncomfortably around the table at the impatient expressions on the faces of the several statistical analysts as they awaited my educated response concerning whatever painfully uninteresting facet of crime statistics they were discussing. I drew a blank. I knew if I waited long enough, Scully would come to my rescue. Kersch only had to sigh twice before she cast me that look and jumped in. Free to let my mind drift away once again, I leaned back in my chair just far enough to peak through the door that was cracked enough for me to see the finely sculpted pair of long legs under her desk. Engrossed in my surveillance, I failed to properly judge just how far I could lean back in the chair without certain repercussions. The next thing I knew, I was sprawled haphazardly on the floor beneath the table. Fortunately, this was not my first incident during long meetings where chairs are concerned. And although everyone paused momentarily to glance at me disdainfully as I mumbled an apology and retrieved my fallen chair, the meeting continued. I did, however, feel my partner's disapproving gaze for several moments following. "So was the view worth it?" Scully asked sarcastically as we walked toward the elevator when the meeting had finally adjourned. "I'm not following." I responded innocently, though I knew exactly what she meant. "I must have missed 'ogle the secretary' on the agenda. " "I don't know what to tell ya Scully. I was getting a definite vibe." "A vibe?" She repeated incredulously. "Yeah, on the way in to the meeting, I'm almost certain she was....I don't know, checking me out." Scully raised her eyebrows in such a way as to let me know she disagreed with my interpretation. "So the vibe was so strong you felt it necessary to jump out of your chair and sprawl all over the floor?" I ignored her contemptuous tone as I opened our office door. "It was as if....I missed something." I mused. She rolled eyes and retrieved her ringing cell phone. I watched her as she answered. "Hello.....I'm sorry?....What data?....Frohike, is this some kind of joke?....All right, all right, we're on our way." "What was that all about?" I asked as she returned the phone to her pocket. "The Gunmen want to see us right away. Frohike said something about a flight data recorder. Did you ask him to analyze something?" I shook my head and followed her to the door. "Weird." Was all she said. * * * * * * Byers answered the door after only one ring of the doorbell. "Hey, Scully. Come on in." He greeted her without even a glance my way. I followed them in, my mind still partly occupied by the statuesque legs I had enjoyed that morning. "We found something very interesting on the flight data recorder you gave us." Langly was saying, and a look of confusion crossed Scully's face. "It appears," Frohike continued, "That there may be a way to get Mulder back." My daydream abruptly ended. "Get me back from where?" "Shut up, punk." The little man spat at me and returned his attention to Scully. I was quite taken aback. I could tell Scully was stifling a chuckle. "Theoretically, the space-time continuum could reverse itself if--" "I'm sorry...." Scully interrupted, lifting a hand to silence him. "We're completely not following any of this." The Gunmen exchanged a look, and Byers nodded slightly. "I guess everything's okay then." He said with a shrug. "Sorry, man." Frohike patted me on the arm. Scully and I walked to our car, sharing a contemplative silence. "Weird." There was only one thought consuming my mind as we drove back to work, and suprisingly it wasn't the legs. There's a bed in my bedroom. The End.