From JRegullano@gnn.com Mon Nov 04 21:13:26 1996 Disclaimer: I don't own them. Except for the poor, neglected fish (Mulder's fault they're dying!) Everything belongs to CC, 1013, and Fox. Rating: G to PG. Just one slightly offensive word. Summary: Mulder is a jerk. Scully is a saint. Warnings: Mulder bashing, full-speed ahead! I'm venting here, I just wanted to get it off my chest. Spoilers for TFWID. It was supposed to be serious, but then I realized exactly how much of a dorkus Mulder is and this was the result. Mulder-Jerk 1/1 by Suraki Scully looked moodily at the bottle in front of her. She'd been doing so for the past half hour. Getting drunk never solved anything, Dana Katherine Scully, a voice inside her head told her. Her mother, after that scene at senior prom with Brett; Melissa, after that fiasco with Jack Willis; herself, after that time in Comity so many years ago. So why was she tempted again to succumb to the temptation of letting it all go, if only briefly? Alcohol inured her to thinking, to feeling, to pain. Scully wasn't an alcoholic; in her lifetime she'd gotten drunk a total of three times. But Mulder was so frustrating. Mulder could drive the most stalwart man to drink. "Soulmate," she muttered under her breath. "Crap." Or was it? She shivered and curled up on the couch, under the comfort of the blanket that her mother had quilted for her when she was only five. Margaret Scully had quilted a blanket for each of her children. In each of the blankets were little hints about the child's future: Kevin and Bill's, army designs; Melissa's, stars and moons; Dana's, an appliqued Band-Aid. Scully wished her mother had known about Mulder. So that she could warn her. 'Scully, watch out for a tall, dark, and handsome man with a penchant for ditching you and an obsession with his abducted sister.' Scully snickered faintly, imagining her mother saying that to her in a sage voice as she got ready to enter Quantico. Her mirth disappeared quickly as she remembered the case. And Melissa. Not her sister. Mulder's Melissa. His soulmate. "Crap," she said again. And the thing was, Mulder's Melissa reminded Scully of her own Melissa. In that Mulder's Melissa was so desperate to believe in something, to have something to hold onto, that she believed in that sociopath who thought he was the son of God. And Melissa, although certainly not as desperate, had certainly been more open to the . . . possibilities. And why did Mulder get a soulmate, and not her? Why was it that Mulder always got a "Mulder Babe" and there was never a "Scully Hunk" around? Because Mulder was just damned lucky, that was why. Scully wrapped the blanket tighter around herself. Why did Mulder get someone to be linked to, and she had nobody? Except for Mulder. And that really soothed her mind. Mulder, who wasn't going to win a plaque for Most Well-Adjusted Personality anytime soon. Mulder, who believed in reincarnation; Mulder, whose hunches were just plain freaky; Mulder, who wouldn't hesitate to ditch her if she became inconvenient; Mulder, who got pissed off at her every time she tried to bring him back to reality. (Why can't you feel it, Scully?) Jerk. Scully rubbed her forehead and wrote in her mental shopping list: *big* bottle of Tylenol. The cashiers at the local drugstore must think she was addicted the red and yellow capsules, for heaven's sakes. And it was all Mulder's fault. He was the one who gave her the headaches, wasn't he? He never did the paperwork, so it was *her* eyes which got tired. He was the one who was so damned-- RINNNGG! Scully glared balefully at the phone, wishing she had turned her answering machine on so that she could screen her calls. But if it was her mother, she didn't want her to worry. "Hello," Scully said into the phone. "It's me." Scully was silent for a few moments, then said calmly, "What's wrong, Mulder?" "Does there have to be something wrong for me to call you?" he asked in a faintly joking manner. She was quiet again, then said with brutal honesty, "Yes." Mulder was obviously not expecting an answer to his question. He was silent, then said finally, "Uh, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to know if you . . . The report to turn into Skinner?" "Done." "Oh, good. I'll sign it, um, tomorrow, is that okay?" "Sure." "Are you okay?" "Fine." "Do you want me to come over." "Whatever." "Hey, Scully --" "Gotta go, Mulder, my mom's at the door. See you at work." "Scully? Wait --" Click. Scully smirked at the phone, feeling guilty yet pleased at the same time. There, her version of 'ditching' him. RINNNGG! "What is it Mulder?" Scully asked, snatching up the phone. "Are you sure you're okay?" "I'm fine, Mulder." "Are you mad at me?" "Why would I be mad at you?" Oh, only because of everything you've done, perhaps? "I wanted to say sorry for what I said to you in the car during the case." "Whatever, Mulder." "Um, hey, want to get a pizza and eat with me?" "I already ate." "Oh." "Mulder, I've got to go." "Scully --" Click. RINNNGG! "Dammit, Mulder," Scully barked into the phone. Silence. Then, "I take it you and Fox are not getting along right now?" "Oh, Mom," Scully said sheepishly. "Sorry. He's just been annoying me tonight. Stay on the line, please, Mom. Mulder might call again." "What's happened?" "Soulmate. He's found his soulmate." Her voice was disgusted. "Honey, are you jealous?" She laughed sharply. "Not a chance." "No, not of that. Because Mulder has something . . . to love . . . and you don't." "She's dead, Mom." "I know." Scully didn't bother to ask how she knew. Mom just did. "I hate him sometimes, Mom." "I know." A sigh. "I'm supposed to keep him grounded; I can't just let him float into the clouds." "Oh, honey." "He takes me for granted, Mom." "He can be a jerk, I agree." "It's not fair," Scully mumbled. "Sweetheart, Fox is different. Things will never be fair when it comes to him." "I hate him," she said again, but with less feeling. "It will pass." "I know," Scully said. "And I hate that, too. I can't even properly hate him." Margaret Scully's smile could be heard even through the phone lines. "You never could properly hate anyone." Scully's mouth twitched as she reviewed what she'd just said. "I sounded so stupid right there, didn't I?" "A little." "Thanks, Mom." Scully thought for a minute, then said, "Hey, you want some pizza? My treat?" "Anytime, honey." Scully smiled and hung up the phone and walked out the door, pulling her coat on. As soon as she closed the door . . . RINNNG! X * X * X * Mulder stared at his phone, wondering where Scully was. He really needed to talk to somebody about this soulmate crap. Scully had always been there for him. He'd taken it for granted that she always would be. X * X * X * The fish in the tank glared at their human. Jerk! they bubbled at each other. He hasn't fed us in three days, ever since he came back and was mumbling about solemates, one bubbled indignantly. And did you see the way he treats that nice red-haired female? another one asked, one who was slowly wasting away to nothing. Jerk! they chorused. Human is a jerk! Human is a jerk! Red-haired female is a saint! Join in! The grim bubbling continued until the last one died from neglect. END Mulder-jerk 1/1 Suraki (jregullano@gnn.com) Join in everyone! "Mulder is a jerk, Scully is a saint!" Repeat until bitter feelings are soothed.