From: MD1016 Date: 09 Apr 2000 03:53:43 GMT Subject: NEW: Dead Channels by MD1016 Gossamer: VA Rated: PG Spoilers: 6th Season Keywords: none Summary: Sequel to A Hundred Miles of Nothing But Tin Can Phones, which can be found at http://members.aol.com/msrsmut/MD1016.html Dead Channels by MD1016 The American flag waved, the National Anthem played, and Scully remained slouched against the motel headboard, blanket wrapped around her, and empty half gallon of Chocolaty-Chuncky wedged between her knees. It was late. Or early, depending. Her belly ached, but not from the ice cream. They'd be going home in a couple of hours, back to the heat and pollution of DC, and he'd be going back to her. Scully had heard him make the final arrangements for his little homecoming when she came out of the ladies room after dinner. He'd slammed the receiver down the moment he saw her, but something in her told her that he'd wanted her to know. Why else would he use the pay phone by the restrooms and not his cellular out in the parking lot where there was no chance she'd overhear? She didn't want to care as much as she did. She didn't want it to hurt so much. She pressed a fist into her complaining tummy, and watched the waving flag on the TV screen dissolved into the Vietnam War Memorial. Ginger ale. That's what she needed to settle her stomach. She tossed the ice cream tub at the night stand, groaned as it knocked the clock to the floor, and then tossed the cheap motel blanket aside. The night was cool and clear. The sheriff they had worked with on the case had said something about the desert having unpredictable weather, but as far a Scully could tell each day had been exactly like the rest - hot - and each night had been just as it was now. She shuffled to the soda machine, slipped four quarters into the coin slot, and was about to press the Canada Dry button when she heard a large splash behind her. The pool lights were out, but the yellow flood from the motel's balcony gave enough illumination to make out the shadow of a person swimming in the pool. A couple steps closer and she could tell the figure was a man. Once she stepped through the gate she knew he was her partner. Near the steps in the shallow end, she crossed her arms and waited for him to finish his lap. He did so with a head snap that whipped his hair back from his face. When he turned, he saw her. "Scully." He didn't sound all that happy to see her, but he didn't seem surprised, either. "Fancy meeting you here." "Trouble sleeping, Mulder?" He shrugged and slowly stood. In the shallow end, the water level hit him at the dimples in his hips. No suit. The lights from the motel and the moon reflected off the dark surface of the pool, so Scully couldn't see anything below. But even so, she shifted uncomfortably and looked out at the deeper end of the pool. His nakedness didn't seem to bother him at all. And to prove it, he waded a little closer to her. Scully jerked her chin to the gate she'd come through. "The sign says the pool closes at midnight." "Does that mean you don't want to join me?" Was that amusement in his voice, or condescension? She rolled her eyes, avoiding his wet, glistening, naked torso and his blatant lack of modesty. "Mulder it's sixty degrees out here. You're going to get sick." "The water's warm." He moved closer. His eyes were dark, shining. "Why don't you come in. You look tense." He was playing with her, and it royally pissed her off. "I don't have my suit." "Neither do I." "How can you do that?" She tried to clamp down on the fury that boiled in her belly. "How can you make a blatant pass at me like that when you know that *I* know that tomorrow *she's* going to be in your bed?" Mulder folded his arms over the lip of the pool, and sank down until his chin rested on his wrist. He was too calm. He was sizing her up. "What does Diana have to do with your taking a swim?" Just the sound of her name on his lips made her want to scream. "Then you admit it?" He hesitated for a moment and then stood again. His chest looked golden in the dim light. His nipples were dark beads. "I don't deny it, if that's what you're asking. Diana isn't a secret." "You tried to hide the call you made from the diner -" "No." He smoothed both of his hands over his wet hair and the muscles in his shoulders rippled. Scully shifted feet. "I know that Diana is a sore subject for you, and I don't want to fight about her again." "She's not..." Scully said, lamely. She felt like such an ass. "I don't understand. Of all the women in the world, why her?" She settled at the side of the pool, suddenly very weary. "Why not her?" Mulder waded closer. He dripped on the dry cement. "Because she's a liar. Because she's not to be trusted." He shrugged, non-committally. "Says you." "Yes, says me. There was a time when that would've been enough for you." Mulder's dark eyes peered into her, and then he averted his gaze and studied her black shoe. "If it were anything else, Scully, anyone else, it would be enough. But I don't think you're being rational about Diana. Your response to her has been emotional from the start." "Has not." "But you don't have anything to be jealous of, Scully." Trying not to sound as defensive as she felt, she demanded, "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means that you're my partner now, not her. She's not replacing you." "She's deceiving you, Mulder." He sighed and looked away, over his shoulder, at the dark fence that separated the pool area from the forest. "She's never lied to me, Scully." "And I have?" Scully watched the muscles in his shoulders bunch. "Mulder, you've known me for nearly seven years. And we've worked together nearly every day of that time. I have proven my loyalty to you and the X-Files over and over -" "Scully don't do this," he warned. "Do what? Tell you the truth?" "Scully we see things differently. We always have. It seems natural enough that Diana would be clashing of opinions -" He was being obstinate. "Opinions? How can you liken this to the Fluke Man or the Abominable Snowman?" "Because it's the same argument, different year." "Mulder! You're having sex with her!" "Yes, and that's all it is. Sex. I don't understand why you're so threatened by that." The thought of anyone bedding Fowley was disgusting. The thought of that someone being Mulder made her nauseous. Scully swallowed hard. "Mulder, she's using you." "Maybe I'm using her," he said, no longer looking at her. Mulder pushed off backwards and swam away from her into the darker, deeper water. "Using her for what? Sex?" Scully didn't want to ask, but the question tumbled out of her mouth and left her a little breathless. He reached the wall and clung to it with one hand as he turned to Scully and gave a definitive, "Yes." Then he started his lap to the shallow end, again. "Well, then..." The ache in her belly tightened. "If it's just sex - if it's just a question of a body, then use mine." His head whipped to her, and his expression transformed from neutral cool to shock. For a moment he tread water and watched her. Studied her. Waited for her to back down. But she wouldn't. She refused. "You know where my loyalties are, Mulder. You know you can trust me." He started swimming again. "You're my partner, Scully." "I'm also your friend. I can be your lover, too." "No." He reached the wall on the shallow end, stood, and started towards the steps to Scully's right. The subject was closed, it seemed. But Scully wasn't willing to accept that. "Please don't go home to her." He shook his head, averted his eyes. "I'm not having this conversation with you," he said with anger in his voice. He started to climb the steps, and Scully had to turn away. He didn't care that she was sitting there. She was like a pet; no one worries about their nudity in front of their dog. When she heard the water rush from him to the cement, she stood. She needed to get as far away from him as possible. Before she got a whole step, he mumbled, "I...I don't understand this. I don't understand you anymore." Scully shook her head and sighed. "I don't understand you, either." Sadness didn't even being to describe the hollow inside her. "You're willingly sleeping with the enemy." She got as far as the gate. "Scully." She stopped and, when he didn't say anything else, she slowly turned to him. He stood, dripping, towel around his hips. "What...what would you've done if I'd said yes?" he asked. Her mouth was dry. "Say yes and find out." For a moment she thought he would. She ached to hear that one, simple word. But then he turned and picked up another towel. With his back to her, he rubbed his wet head, his neck and shoulders. Back in her room, the door securely locked, Scully sat empty and numb at the foot of the double bed. The dancing white light from the static on the TV was the only light in the room. She kicked off her shoes, tossed her blouse aside and watched how each item landed haphazardly on the worn motel carpet. And then, she realized that she'd forgotten her soda. Whatever. It didn't matter. Now it was her chest that ached, anyway. End.