From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: 4 Jul 2007 06:55:16 -0000
Subject: Part of the Day by JG
Source: direct

Reply To: starbuck0925@gmail.com


Title: Part of the Day
Author: JG
Category: MSR (my favorite category)
Rating: PG ish
Summery: Parts of the day. Mulder POV
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Mulder POV

My strong feet hit the pavement in a rhythmic pattern. 

There are soft splashes moving around me as I make the 

turn to the parks familiar path, I've ran this park 

hundreds of times, and still its beauty amazes me, 

it is my favorite part of the day. 

The familiar form in the distances makes a smile 

drift onto my face, just as it always has since 

the first moments I met it. 



Though small in the distance with a look of fragileness 

up close, upon introduction and closer association 

that first impression is instantly rebuffed and 

dismissed as a gross underestimation of the beautiful 

5'3 red head that has graced my presence the 

last several years of my life. 

Her form joins mine as an easy stride is taken 

and the regular pace I had set before is now 

in sync with hers. It's a peaceful morning 

with a light drizzle playfully splashing on our heads.

 Scully's head is under a light windbreaker 

that is perfect for running and the 

matching pants she wears offer little to her shape. 

Still she looks just as gorgeous as ever. 

Perhaps it's the fact that she hadn't had her hood 

up the entire time and because of this 

her hair is curling around her soft round face, 

giving it a young glow, which caresses her 

skin. I smile down at her and she grins back at me 

with a look in her eyes that reflects the calm morning. 

We continue down the path enjoying the 

comfortable silence that surrounds us. 

Most days being with someone else in silence is rough, 

you're always looking for something to say, 

and that presents a sign of uneasiness, 

but the nervousness has never 

really existed between us. 

After that first night together the ice 

had been broken, perhaps 

because of scullys voluntary strip in front of me, 

or because of my discloser about my 

past and my trust to tell her about my sister, 

and maybe it was just the chemistry flowing 

around us that made us comfortable and 

playful but without an awkward sense of self. 

Normally the talking is used as a way to ease 

the tension in people, mainly to establish a 

self-confidence in all who are involved, 

manners and polite chit-chat allow for people to 

establish interest without being offensive or negative, 

but in actuality it only adds fuel to 

the fire, by staying silent your not saying that 

the person isn't interesting but in fact quiet 

the opposite. You allow the person to make an 

assessment of the situation and size you 

up based on your form, by being silent you show 

confidence and friendliness as well as 

establishing a trust that you believe the other 

person is intelligent enough to make a 

decision on their own. That kind of trust is 

hard to build in the initial meeting and takes 

talent and a security that even the 

most intelligent humans might not posses. 



Scully and I jog for an hour just as we 

usually do when we are in town, out of 

town we might run together for a half an hour 

exploring the local terrain but usually the 

case takes so much time that we rarely have 

the opportunity to enjoy natures beauty or 

our own freedom with one another. 

The friendship I have with Scully is beyond 

compare to any relationship I've ever 

had. Though our difference have often led to 

trouble in writing reports; beyond that the 

appreciation for the difference of opinion 

have left us in a battle of wits that more often 

then not results not in frustration but 

with a joyfulness at being able to constantly 

challenge each other which 

keeps us in top mental condition.  



Scully turns signally the end of the our 

exhilarating run now its time to have a cup 

of coffee and talk about whatever is 

flowing through our heads at the time. 

Today my comments are going to be about the existence 

of the Loch Ness monster. 



Her lips are slowly blowing on the steaming liquid 

in front of her, and the curve of her mouth is as 

magnificent as warm sunshine after a cold swim. 

She looks at me curiously the very familiar eyebrow 

shooting up in question of my whimsical gaze. 

"Mulder?" she says, the different ways she says 

my name say all the questions in her 

head.  Sometime it's the exasperated "Mulder" 

the signal that she is tired and really 

doesn't care about whatever I'm going to say next 

but will still listen because she feels 

strongly about having manners. 



The whispered  "Mulder" usually with a clip on the end 

of it, signals her distress at whatever the hell 

situation I've gotten us into and this is 

usually said in some dark, 

spooky place that requires the use of a flashlight. 

There is also the "Mulder?" with a question mark 

that is accompanied by what I fondly call the 

eyebrow; the raising of the eyebrow is a tale-tell 

clue of her curiosity getting the better of 

her. Though is also makes appearances when she 

is typing up my section of a report and 

sometimes can be considered the 

"I can't believe something like this actually happened 

and I was there" look. 



Scully's face betrays all the she is thinking, 

and yet at times the cold blank look can cross 

her features which will leave you with no idea 

of her opinion or attitude. 

Now she is tilting her head in yet another example 

of her curiosity and the smirk 

she wears is that of her playfulness, 

I have spent hours staring at her face and still have 

never tired of it. 



My response mimics hers, my head tilts to the side 

and I give the same smirk that she has and I say 

"Scully?" she laughs and gives me one of the rare 

Scully smiles that I dream about. 

The one that is full of love and humor 

and makes her face light up like a Christmas tree, 

and I'm the one sitting in front of it that looks 

like the kid on Christmas morning. 

She looks down at her coffee, 

and around the small coffee shop where our 

names are known and the coffee is always fresh. 

"You know what I've been thinking about?" she asks, 

and I take a sip of the delicious liquid. 

"What?" I ask, always curious as 

to what moves around in that pretty head of hers. 

"The Loch Ness monster." She says as 

she brings the liquid to her lips, takes a sip, 

and then launches into a series of skeptical 

sentences on the subject, and my heart tightens 

in my chest as I realize that the morning 

run isn't my favorite part of the day, but that Scully is.