From: shinkai@mlode.com (Susan Shinkai) Date: Sun, 6 Jun 1999 03:56:02 -0700 Subject: New Story:Midnight Miracle in Malibu (1/1) Title: Midnight Miracle in Malibu Author: Shinkai E-mail address: shinkai@mlode.com Rating: G Classification: VR Spoilers: Milagro Keywords: Scully/Mulder romance Summary: After the incident with Padgett, Mulder questions his own relationship with Scully and turns to an unexpected source for the ultimate answer to his question "How will it end?" Disclaimer: Most of the characters and some situations in this story are not the legal property of the author or her agents. Their use is not intended to be an infringement to the rights of the legal owners. Use and distribution of this story is for non-commercial entertainment purposes only. ___________________________________________________ MIDNIGHT MIRACLE IN MALIBU It was well after midnight and Mulder paced in his apartment, his mind in turmoil. He had just returned from the hospital where he had left Scully after her attack by the apparition conjured by Padgett's imagination. Although she appeared unharmed, the bizarre circumstances of her injury demanded extreme care. Neither she nor her doctors could explain the nature of her blood loss and chest pain, so they felt it was best to keep her overnight on a cardiac monitor under observation in the ICU. Scully rationalized that her own imagination, sparked by Padgett's chilling story, played a part in causing the injury. She cited medical texts of self induced trauma as Mulder listened in disbelief. Why wouldn't she believe her own eyes, her own heart? Her answer was simple - "I can't trust my own emotions. Not this time." Then she calmly told him to go home. Her words pounded inside his head as he stood at his front door. Just a few hours ago, in this very spot, Scully clutched tightly to him as if his strength brought her back to life. Her emotions were as raw as her nerves and her tears flowed as freely as the love in her heart. But as the urgency passed and the fear subsided, Scully regained her mental balance and her rational mind held her truest feelings in check. She was 'fine' she said and there was nothing more he could do by staying at the hospital. But as he stood alone in his apartment, Mulder knew there was more he wanted to do. Much more. He wanted to love her, now and forever. Mulder threw himself face down on the couch exhausted from trying to understand his own feelings. The dried crusted patches of her blood staining his shirt scratched his chest, a grim reminder of how little his love could do to protect her. Despite what Scully and the other doctors believed, Mulder knew Padgett had 'written' his own death to save her, the final declaration of his unrequited love. Mulder felt his own heart being torn from his chest, but this wasn't an X-File. It was the same pain that gripped him when Scully was abducted then again when she told him she had cancer. Just another moment of quiet agony, like when he saw her lying bloody and breathless on his floor earlier that night. But this time, Mulder suffered not from the dread of losing her, but from the emptiness of never having her. Padgett had said she already loved someone. Jealous, bitter words from a madman but true none the less. Mulder knew he shared a special kind of love with his partner but that love never had form or substance beyond the X-Files until Padgett gave it one. The writer's words created an image of passionate, physical desire coupled with deep soulful needs, a love based on the very essence of their being. Now it became impossible for Mulder to separate his love for Scully from Padgett's expression but unlike the writer, Mulder did not have the luxury of misunderstanding Scully. Scully's love for her partner was just as powerful and consuming, and just as forbidden. Too many memories flooded Mulder's troubled mind, vignettes of loving moments with Scully. A touch here, a word there, a look, a breath, a smile. Was that all he could ever have? Was that the sum of her affections? He shut it all out and focused on one thought - How will it end? _________________________________ Somewhere, in a private Southern California beach house... A tall man in his late thirties, dressed causally in a T-shirt and shorts, worked diligently at his laptop computer in the living room. The stack of papers to his right bore the letterhead of 10-13 productions. He heard a sound from behind him and turned to see a familiar face. With a slightly bewildered smile, he said, "David, what are you doing here?" He was answered with a heavy sullen silence. The smile vanished and he turned back to face his computer. "Oh...it's you." The visitor walked in front of the writer and said nervously, "I have to know. How does it end?" The writer tried to avoid looking into his deep hazel eyes. "I...I didn't write that story. I didn't make the ending." "But you made me. And her." The visitor's hard stare demanded an audience and the writer looked up with a mixture of intolerance and pity. "You are ultimately responsible for how it will all end." the visitor accused. "Honestly, I don't know how it will end. I haven't made up my mind. There's more to it than just you and her, you know. Audience feedback, network pressure, contract agreements, possible spin-offs..." The visitor knocked the laptop aside and growled, "I don't care about your world. This is my life! I have to know why I do the things I do, why I feel the way I do." The writer remained unruffled. "I didn't create you or your world from start to finish. I learned the first year of production, when Gillian announced she was pregnant, that we have to constantly recreate your world. That single unexpected event prompted the idea for the story arc that eventually became the core of the series, rivaling the disappearance of your sister." The visitor roared, "You did that to her on a whim? You made her suffer, ravaged her body, gave her a fatal illness, just to hide a pregnant actress?" "It's not that simple." explained the writer. "The circumstances just inspired a plot line for an idea we were brewing. For what it's worth, that was the moment when the audience realized what she meant to you." The visitor turned in disgust. "You bastard! It's all about ratings and reviews, network innovations and shock value." "Without those things, you'd be cancelled after one season." the writer replied. "Why the sudden interest in me? Isn't your work, your search enough?" "You know very well that it's never been enough. That's why I have Scully... to make me see that. To let me know a life alone is just half a life." The writer smiled, "Sounds like you found your answer. Now why don't you go back where you belong." The visitor huffed in frustration as he shook his head. "Nice try, Chris, but I'm not leaving until you answer me this - Do I love her?" "Of course you do..." "Does she love me?" "For years..." "So what are you going to do about it?" the visitor asked anxiously. "Who says I have to do anything?" The writer stood up to face his inquisitor squarely. "It's only in fairy tales and mainstream media that two people who love each other end up together." "What about him?" the visitor challenged. "David is one of the lucky ones. Besides, aren't you the one reminding me all the time that he's not you." "He helped define me over the years. Gave me substance, a grasp of my own reality. I owe him my life." "Then why aren't you bothering him?" complained the writer. "He has his own life, his own family. And because you are the Creator...of a hit TV show about a man and his search for the truth. And I'm that man. What do you want me to find? Truth? Love? Happiness?" The writer smiled again and sat down. "All of the above... and none of it. It's not about the end of the search but the search itself. Not just knowing the answer but learning how to ask the question. What IS out there? I'm just as curious as you. And Scully...she was never meant to be more than your partner, a counterpoint. How far will that partnership go? As far as it needs to tell the story which I haven't written yet." The visitor sighed in resignation. "But I do love her, right?" The writer nodded. "And she loves me?" Another nod. "Then can't we at least act like friends sometimes, instead of always being at odds with each other?" "Wait 'til next week. Your alter ego already made that same point and put it on film. Just don't expect any romance..." "I'd settle for a friendly hug, with no one on the verge of dying." The visitor started to walk towards the door then paused and asked, "Is there any hope of a future together, with her?" "Have faith. Isn't that the very essence of a quest?" the writer replied cryptically as the visitor faded from sight. ______________________________________ Mulder awoke to the sound of a buzzing phone. He groggily grabbed it and mumbled, "Mulder." "Mulder, it's me." answered his partner. She could almost hear the smile cross his face. "They're releasing me from the hospital this morning and I was wondering if you can give me a ride back home. I'd call a cab but I left my billfold at your place." "I'll be right there." Mulder said without hesitation. "Hey, Scully, have you ever wondered why you do the things you do? You know, the things that seem so out of character..." "...Like trusting an intuition driven, paranoid, obsessive man who can't seem to go more than 3 days without breaking another FBI regulation?" Scully paused then replied, "Yes, Mulder I do wonder sometimes. But when I think about you and all we've been through together, I can logically tell myself that I made the best choice from all possible worlds and all possible endings." Mulder sighed gratefully then teased, "Nice try, partner. You still have to pay for gas." "Can't fool you for a minute, can I Agent Mulder?" She paused and spoke again in a more solemn tone. "Mulder, about last night, when I asked you to leave..." Mulder stopped her from saying anymore, and said as casually as possible, "Don't worry about it. You had a lot on your mind and you needed to rest. You didn't need me there challenging you with some crazy theories." Scully breathed a sigh of relief and replied, "Thanks for understanding. I'll see you in a few minutes and you can tell me your crazy theories then." They exchanged good-byes then hung up. Whispering to himself and to his Creator, Mulder muttered, "How will it end? It ends where the journey takes us." Then he grabbed his keys and headed for the door on his way to her. END ______________________________________ ______________________________________ Not everything dies, Mr. Mulder...not even a TV series. See you at the journey's end. Please send comments and questions to shinkai@mlode.com or visit my web page at http://www.mlode.com/~shinkai/fanfic/xffanfic.htm Story Notes: The title came from a play on the word 'Milagro' which means miracle. The line "You are the Creator...of a hit TV show" was paraphrased from "The Truman Show." The writer refers to Mulder's 'his alter ego...putting it on film' - of course he means DD and the next episode "The Unnatural" where M/S actually PLAY together. Is Mulder aware of his conversation with his creator? Not really but he has a vague memory of it, a very dream like experience. What's up with Scully? Nothing, she's just being Scully.