From: winged_squirrel@my-deja.com Date: Mon, 23 Oct 2000 01:26:22 GMT Subject: NEW: Natural Blues by Squirrel Title: Natural Blues Author: Squirrel Classification: A, MSR, post Requiem...hey, wait! Where is everyone going? Disclaimer: All characters mentioned in this story, with the exception of Olivia belong to CC and his motley crew. Archiving: I'll do ephemeral and gossamer myself. Anywhere else I generally say yes, but please ask. Summary: Mulder and Scully get the hell out of dodge. Feedback: Comments, questions, and constructive criticism will be gratefully accepted at winged_squirrel@my-deja.com Author notes at end He can't stand not being able to drive. "Scully, you just ran a red light!" "Mulder, it was yellow." "Green means go, red means stop, yellow means go, but only if you're late." He sing-songs "Were you reading those baby books?" "I was skimming them. Hey Scully did you know that I'm motivated by people close to me, mature, known for my inventiveness, emotional, and pure-hearted?" "Hmm and who is it that said that?" "The baby name book. Dana means to judge; pure; bright. For some reason they didn't have Scully." "I wonder. What does Olivia mean?" "Olive oil. Tell me again why you named our daughter Olivia?" "Mulder?" "Yeah?" "Shut up." With a look of indignant hurt he takes out his laptop and boots up the internet. "Since when do we have the internet in our car?" "Ever since the boys did a little work on it." More than a little work she thinks. They arranged the car so that Mulder could sit in it safely, connected tracking devices on the car to their own computers, and put on license plates that could be changed with a click of a button. It's a James Bond car, which is pretty impressive for two ex-fibbies on a run. The corner of her mouth twitches as she imagines it. Scully, Dana Scully. Only Bond didn't have a baby. She glances over at Mulder and is annoyed, but not entirely surprised to see him browsing alt.aliens.ufo. "Mulder, what are you doing?" "There was a recent rash of UFO sightings in New Jersey. I was thinking that after we got settled we could set up a website that would be the equivalent of the x-files, without the official stamp of course." She pulls over to the side of the road. "Mulder, listen to me. We can't draw attention to ourselves. You know that. We're targets. " "Remind me again why we left the x-files?" "Mulder, the x-files no longer exist. They were shutdown. The F.B.I won't rehire you with your injury and they fired me-" "What? You didn't tell me that! Why did they fire you?" "For continuing to work on your case even when it was closed. That combined with my attack on Doggett and shooting Pfaster earlier this year made them think I wasn't fit for duty. Now, either you put the x-files behind you or you get out of the car." "You'd leave an invalid on the side of the road?" She doesn't speak for a moment, and when she does her voice has only the thinnest veneer of control, "You wondered before we left why I questioned your ability to be a father. I guess you just got your answer. This is important to me Mulder, it should be important to you." "Scully. Scully, listen to me. It is, it's important, but you can't expect me to give that up. It's what I do. It's as much a part of me as my hair or my sunflower seeds." "That doesn't matter anymore Mulder. I'm asking you to give up the paranormal. And your examples? I might ask you to give those up too." "Fine." "Fine, what?" "Fine, I'll get out. Dammit, Scully I can't, I just can't." he says, his voice cracking with emotion. "In the last few days I've lost use of my legs, found out I had a daughter, quit my job, and gotten a new identity. The only thing I have left is you. And I'm not even sure if I recognize you anymore." She sits there her mouth slightly open, while silence rushes into the car, hitting them with the force of an oncoming train. She stutters for another second, wracking her brain for the best response. She's stopped when Mulder starts sniffing the air, "Shit," he says. "And it's your turn." Still wrinkling his nose Mulder turns and eases Olivia out of her car seat, "C'mon Olive oil, let's go get you cleaned up." A few hours later they stop at a motel. Night is coming, falling across the sky in dark waves. Scully scoops up Olivia and puts her in the carrier, "Here, Mulder, let me help you." "I'm fine." he replies, "Just pass me my wheelchair." Mulder twists his torso until his legs are hanging over the edge of the car. He pushes himself off and lands, but his leg is pinned beneath the dead weight of his body. "OW! Fuck!" He howls. Scully runs up and with one deft motion straightens him, so that he's sitting comfortably upright. "Let's go." He says coldly. In the motel they register under the names of Devon and James Lindow. Scully sets up Olivia in a small, foldable playpen as Mulder flips through the local news stations. "Look, Scully it's us." "So, soon?" she says looking up from Olivia with a worried expression. "Guess we'll have to do the dying and fingerprinting tonight." On the t.v the reporter continues, "Former special agent Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are wanted in connection to the death of Alex Krycek, an agent with the government-" "Since when, exactly was Krycek an agent?" asks Mulder as he turns off the t.v. She shrugs, "I guess government agent sounds better than Russian terrorist." "Not by a lot." Suddenly Olivia's cries cut through the room. "Here," says Scully, "Give her her bottle." She tosses the milk filled bottle at him. Mulder rolls along the floor, his wheelchair sinking into the thick carpet. He reaches down and tries not to flinch from the pain as he carefully inserts it into her mouth. She immediately starts sucking it, while her eyes watch him solemnly. He looks around the clean and orderly room, where the only sign of something slightly different is the single gun lying on the table. But, for them, for him and Scully everything's normal. She's a little more agitated than usual, a little more hurried, but she fits. Olivia doesn't. Babies shouldn't be forced to go on the run. Mulder muses about the irony of it, his worrying about Olivia, when Olivia's the reason they're here. "C'mere Mulder, I'm going to give you black hair." He wheels over to where Scully's sitting with a two bowls of die and some sort of electric gizmo. "You should probably take off your shirt so the dye doesn't get on it." "That's ok. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you when you've got your hands full." He doesn't even bothering leering at her, just drops his voice a few notches. "Mulder for six years I never touched you, believe me I can deal with one night." "I'd rather not." "Mulder why are you making this so difficult? Just do it." He looks up at her, "The scars." "Oh." Her resolve flounders as she remembers the white crisscrossing tracks etched on his skin. His remainder of a year of torture, as irreversibly a part of him as his smashed legs. Her voice gets softer, taking on the tone she normally uses with Olivia, "Eventually Mulder you'll have to do this, may as well now. It's just me." "That's what I mean, it's you." "When did you go and get so vain Mulder?" "When I got my nose job." His nose job, she thinks with a little smile, his silver lining in the clouds. "Listen Mulder, I have scars too. It's just skin, it doesn't matter. Skin Mulder." And she does have scars, deep gouged ones in her chest, little ones on her neck. But none as fearsome or hideous as his bisected stomach or his shriveled blue legs. "My point is that it's not. It's scar tissue." "Mulder?" "Yeah." "You have beautiful scar tissue." And she leans in so that her lips are pressed against his forehead. He reaches around her, dragging her into his lap. "Scully." "Mmm? "Can we wait on the dying? Just for a little while? I'm not ready yet." She brushes her lips across his cheek and down to his lips, "Of course. We don't have all the time in the world, but we can afford to wait for awhile. Take what time you need." "And you'll wait?" He kisses her harder and slips one hand around her waist. She laughs into his neck, "Mulder, when have I not?" - - - Olivia wakes him up. Scully's still sleeping, so gently, careful not to touch her he climbs out of bed. Moving awkwardly and painfully he eventually reaches her crib, where she lies screaming and red-faced. He picks her up and cradles her, murmuring. Suddenly, he's caught up in the moment. If he couldn't feel Olivia's satiny skin he wouldn't believe it, but he can and he does. They have to be a family. A pang of fear and love runs through his body. Here's someone for him to love, guilt free. He knows that he would do anything for this small bundle of softness and drool. Her cries quiet down, but he continues to rock her, amazed at how clear his mind is. He's a father. And with the acceptance of that something falls into place. Until this night he wanted everything to go back to the way it was, the last year of his life to disappear into the fog. Now he realizes that's impossible. Maybe he and Scully could have done it. After all they're the masters of erasing time and pretending to forget. But, Olivia doesn't fit into that. There's no place for her in their former life. He tries to imagine a baby in Scully's apartment, but not just the actual child, the presence. The milky, slightly dirty smell that clings determinedly to the furniture, the baby toys scattered throughout the house, constantly underfoot, forgotten until you hear a sudden squeak. And suddenly he's absurdly grateful that he never saw her apartment after coming back, that it'll remain fixed in his memory spotless and babyless, a haven from another life. This is a beginning of something new. By the time he wakes up in the morning Scully's already been up for a few hours and their bags are packed, Olivia's fed, everything's just waiting for him. She's burping Olivia as she paces the length of the room, her hand patting Olivia's back in an unconscious rhythm. The motion looks normal and Mulder can imagine her doing it every night, giving comfort to her child even as her mind was filled with monsters and mythology. "Time to go?" he asks, stretching his arms to the top of the wooden headrest. Her head pops up, " Just waiting for you. Can you get out of the bed on your own?" He glares at her, "Scully, I'm not you, if I need help I'll ask for it." She sets the baby down with a loud thump. "Fine." Within ten minutes they're on the road again. He tilts his head to the side and watches the countryside roll by, field after field. "Where are we going?" "A small town in North Carolina. Frohike's mailing a package to us under new names and he rented us a house. Apparently he has a friend there who'll help get us settled." "For how long? Is this going to be permanent?" "No, eventually we'll move to one of the major cities, but since that's where they'll probably look for us I decided we'd hide out first. I have Byers using my credit card occasionally in New York, so hopefully that's where they'll concentrate their search. Mulder, I've been wondering, why am I arranging all of this?" "Well it was your idea, I was in the hospital, I'm still not sure exactly what the hell is going on or who is looking for us, and you seem to think I can't even get out of bed on my own. Any of those work, take your pick." "This should be a partnership Mulder, like it's always been. So why don't you make the next call to the guys? I'm sure they'd be happy to hear from you." "Oh gee, thanks." He replies sarcastically. "Ok, fine I give up. What the hell do you want from me? You complain that you're not doing enough and then you say you can't do anything at all and now that I've offered something to you, you won't take it." "Scully, do you honestly think giving me one call is going to make up for not having use of my legs? I can't run anymore, I can't play basketball, I can't survive on my own and you're expecting me to be happy?" "No, but that's not my fault Mulder, so don't snap at me." "Fine, just don't try to solve my problems for me," and he turns his head to the scenery again. The lives of the people he sees seem so far away, but then he's felt separated from the world for a long time. He wonders if he could become one of them, with a steady nine to five job with a job description that didn't include murder, aliens, and mutants. A sudden wave of energy fills him. He's got half his life to go, a baby, a woman he loves, and a future. Wheelchairs can be beaten, conspiracies overrun, fights ended. Later as the car pulls up to a gas station, he says, "I'll make the call as long as you'll help me get out of the car." That's as close to an apology as she'll get, but it's enough for now. So, she smiles in return and swings open the door, her hand brushing Mulder's, "Sounds like a deal." - - - - This was my first story in a long, long time so any and all feedback would be greatly appreciated. Red light or green light? Should I go ahead with a sequel or should I stop and turn around? Special thanks to: S.W for waving those poms poms so hard and for pushing me against all common sense. I owe more than I can ever repay to my soft-spoken general. I doubt this story is even recognizable as the one that you edited, thanks to your tense expertise and incredible patience. My two sandbox pals, Smurf and Nat for lending me an ear and even a bit of ego when necessary. Also, to all those folks at Scullyfic who unwittingly encouraged this. And are probably saying at this point, what, who, when, and how can I take it back? My apologies to all. ~Squirrel Winged_squirrel@my-deja.c