Date: Mon, 07 May 2001 13:19:12 +0800
Subject: xfc: NEW: Mulder's New Groove (1/1)
Source: xfc

*****
Mulder's New Groove
by Sandee 

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. How hard is it to get that?
SUMMARY: Mulder is looking for work.
SPOILERS: Nothing, really. But if you see anything, tell me. :o)
RATING: G
ARCHIVE: Anywhere. Ask, though. Please?

NOTES: Real short. Read it, might be worth your while. Many thanks to Mo
and Miles. Sound familiar? :o)

*****

I am now officially unemployed.

I guess I should consider how I'm going to continue to pay my bills.
My parents left me some money, but I think it all went to Scully when
I, um, died and it would be rude to ask for it back, right? 

This leaves me to find another job. 

What else could I be? 

I rather enjoyed being an FBI agent, even when I seemed totally
opposed to it. 

I liked the mystery and the suspense of a case. I liked the feeling of
tension and shivers and excitement I got every time I opened a case
folder.  No other job like it on Earth, I'd say. 

And Scully. 

It saddens me that we aren't partners anymore. Not in the conventional
way, anyway. As much as I love her now, my first love is working with
her. The way she challenges me and my mind, and the way she pings my
every pong. 

She'll still be doing that, yeah, but it wouldn't be the same. And
even if she remained with me forever, I'd still miss her. 

Does that make sense? 

So, back to my question. 

What else could I be? 

There's always my Ph.D. Maybe I could go into a private practice. How
exactly would I go about that, though? 

When I was studying, I realized that not all psychologists fit the
stereotype of someone who listens another person rambling on and on as
they recline on a sofa.  I am my own proof. 

I could go into psychology. Even Scully says I sympathize too much
with other people. I could earn a lot of money, and there would be no
damn conspiracies to worry about. But it wouldn't hold the excitement
the FBI does. So it probably isn't my game. 

Oh, I could play basketball! I mean, I'm tall, I can play fairly well.
I'd have fans, I'd have money, I'd have a bigger fish tank! 

I'd get to wear a jersey and everything, I'd get to travel the country
(as if I haven't already done that), I'd sign autographs and
everything... 

It's all in my head. It could work. 

Wait. There's a problem. If Scully knew I was a player, she'd probably
insist to go to my games, or at least watch them on TV. Beats me why,
but ever since we moved on from a platonic relationship, she began
accompanying me to my games with the fellas. She's gone to all but
one. I mean, I have nothing against her, and neither do the other
guys. 

But she distracts me! I always have to turn around and take a gander
at her, and see if she's fine. 

Call me paranoid, but I worry. And the one time she didn't come to my
game, I kept thinking of her anyway. We lost miserably, 30-0. My
teammates nearly killed me, then and there. 

So, what else? 

I consider being my childhood dream, a firefighter, for about six
seconds and then realize all the *fire* involved. 

Dude, don't do that to me! Just the thought of all that flaming orange
stuff sends shivers up and down my spine. 

That flame, whoo, is on fire! 

Nope. 

(Funny, how as I have a fear of fire, I have fallen in love with a
woman with flaming, red hair.) 

Uh, okay. It is official. The classified ads have absolutely nothing.
I mean 'plumber'? I can't plumb! I fall through floors! Scully would
probably *love* to see that again, wouldn't she. Laugh it up, Red. 

And 'supermarket clerk'? Those cash registers look waaaay too
complicated. They freak me out. I admire those brave enough to take
the job. 

Hey, here's one. I've been called this before. I could probably do it,
right? 'Door-to-door salesman for Wallace's Encyclopedias'. I have the
suits, I have the charm, but I don't have the patience. 

I guess the classifieds are out. I really can't think of anything to
be right now, and the first of the month is nearing. That's the day I
pay the bill for my apartment. 

I suppose I could borrow money from somebody. But, all my life I've
been very self-reliant. Ever since Sam disappeared, I was all I had
left. I had to rely on myself to be my own friend, because everyone
disowned me. And even after I met Scully and learned to lean on her, I
still have some of that part of me left over. 

And besides. It would hurt the pride thing. 

I guess that's it, I decide, resignedly leaning back against my couch.
No hope for me here. I'll probably have to give up the apartment.
Would Scully take me in? Maybe. We were going to move in together
eventually, anyway, what with the baby and all. 

A ring jars my thoughts. 

It's the phone. 

I answer it. "Mulder." 

"Yeah, it's me," she says over the line. "Um, I have a problem." 

Instantly, I'm in protective mode. "What is it?" I ask, worried. "is
it the baby?" 

"No," she replies. I realize she's a bit nervous. I recognize that
voice.  That's the voice she used when she asked me to father her
child. As if I could forget. "It's just, uh, Mulder... God, this is
ridiculous. See, I have my La Maze class in 30 minutes." 

Ohh. 

"And Byers, who's been practicing with me for about 3 months now,
cancelled on me. So uh, do you mind?" 

"Mind what?" I ask, teasing her. 

"Being my partner." 

What do you know? I think proudly. I think I found that occupation I
spent all afternoon looking for after all. And as it turns out, I
didn't have to look very far. 

I'm a father. 

*****