From:             Starswoosh@aol.com
Date sent:        Fri, 30 Jan 1998 23:08:58 EST
Subject:          In the Hallway--A Story

Hello there,
    This is a sort of vignette, which takes place during no specific episode
but rather during M/S "off time", time which we don't get to see.  It's a
modere MSR but mainly it's M/S Friendship.  No Spoilers, and no real summary,
seeing as it's probably less than a page long.  Thanks for the time!



In the Hallway    (By Grace Hanover)


A screech.  A smack.  A moan.  And me, racing into the hallway, to find my
partner sprawled at the bottom of a staircase, disheveled, blushing, and
grasping his oddly positioned leg.  I took one look at him before swiping his
cell phone to call for an ambulance.  He looked at me in protest, his mouth a
twisted line which could be percieved as a sly smile or a pathetic attempt to
hide his pain.  I bent down and placed my hand on his leg, feeling for breaks
or misplaced bones.  I found that his upper femur was protruding sideways at
an odd angle, and I gave him a glance that meant this was serious business.
He looked downwards, sighed, and uttered a feeble, "Oh boy."

Oh boy is right.  Fox Mulder, endless workaholic, constantly on the go, able,
antsy, and unstoppable--and now, on crutches with a broken leg.  The situation
has an odd irony which doesn't escape me.  I watch him hobble into the office,
giving me a sideways grin which I can't help but return.  I can practically
feel the pride sliding down the back of his throat. 

Mulder and I have been partners for nearly five years now, joined together in
a journey to the inner realms of truth and the outer rims of conspiracy.
We've discovered and uncovered a menagarie of evidence that would cause the
average bureau agent to retire, move to a friendly suburb, and take a job as a
salesman.  Mulder and I are stronger than that--and not because we've built
ourselves tough shells but because we have tough skin. We've braved it all:
mutants, monsters, aliens, cannibals, killers, and one giant bloodsucking
worm.  And through it all, we've remained true to ourselves.  (Although the
bloodsucking worm put my straigh-faced abilities to the test.)

Now Mulder and I have reached a new level of commitment.  One that depends
mutually on love and trust.  Our relationship started as an assignment, it has
become a necessity.  Without Mulder, life lacks meaning, importance, simply,
life ceases to be *life*.  I knew this four years ago; I let myself believe it
two weeks ago.  I am ashamed that it took a broken bone to push this
realization into my consciousness.  Yet I can accept that there are some
things which need time to fold and intricate themselves, and then to smooth
over and spread out, to prepare for the time when they will be examined.  It
is better to let these things explore themselves, so that when you begin to
explore them, you're walking on a worn path.  This is a truth I learned not so
long ago: not long after I heard a screech, a smack, and a moan in the
hallway.