From: Scott Miller Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative Subject: NEW: Pleasant Dreams (1/1) Date: Thu, 13 Jun 1996 00:03:20 -0500 (CDT) A quick departure from the world of Fox's Star to return to the real X-Files universe. Ok, for this story, you need to take the standard position on the M&S relationship. As in, what you're used to from watching the show, not the secret desires of every relationshipper. So, in this story, they are JUST FRIENDS. I swear. Boy, that was complicated. All questions, comments, flames, praises, and chocolate morsels can be sent to smiller@wsp1.wspice.com Fox Mulder and Dana Scully are both wonderful creations of Chris Carter and Ten-Thirteen productions. No infringment is intended. Pleasant Dreams by Scott Miller The boat rocked peacefully back and forth on the misty waters. Her eyes followed the length of the damp rope up to the dock, wary of the frays in the cord. Worried that at any moment it may break, releasing her into the open waters. Her fears were realized. She tried to scream out as the fibers slowly twisted and curled away from the rope, finally releasing with a rip. No screams would come, her mind reeling as the boat drifted back at an ungodly speed. Falling backwards, until the mist swallowed the boat whole. She screamed, breathing heavily and glancing about the room nervously. Realizing her situation, she slowly adjusted to the darkness of the bedroom. Just a dream, she thought with a sigh. She jumped again, startled as the phone rang next to the clock which read 1:17. Smoothing a lock of hair away from her face, she reached over to the nightstand and plucked the receiver up. "Hello," she answered wearily. "Its me." "What are you doing calling me at one o'clock in the morning?" Mulder paused, deciding how silly his reason really was. "Just seeing if you were still up." "Very considerate of you, Mulder. I am, coincidentally." "Any particular reason? The best TV is on at this time of night, you know." "I just woke up." "Oh?" "Nightmare." "Wanna talk about it?" "Nothing much to talk about. It was just you're ordinary strange nightmare. Nothing particularly disturbing about it." "Ok. I'll let you get back to sleep then." "Wait..." "Yeah?" "There had to be some reason you were calling?" "Yeah." Scully waited for him to continue. "Couldn't sleep." "Thats what you get for watching scary movies, Mulder." "Ha ha," he deadpanned, "I had a nightmare too, isn't that odd." "Yes, very strange. To adults having nightmares. Must be job stress, Mulder." "Nah, that can't be it, we both have very relaxing and laid back jobs." "Well, except for when Skinner comes down on you for your splendid paperwork jobs." "Well, there is that. Except Skinner wasn't the guy in the dream." "Who was?" "Well, actually, there weren't any. I drempt about..," he paused. "What?" she asked seriously. Mulder's tone had become distressed, which worried her. "Never mind, It was 'just you're ordinary strange nightmare.'" "Well, I'm not going to be sleeping for a while, whats on TV, Mr. I memorized the TV guide." "Nothing worth wasting calories on." "Oh." "Scully? You wanna go out and get some coffee or something?" "At one thirty in the morning? Is anybody open at this hour?" "Oh yeah, I know a place. I'll come get you." "You sure, its a long drive." "Better than sitting around here." "Okay." "See you in a half hour?" "Ok." The more he thought about it, the dumber this idea sounded. But it had sounded so much better over the phone. All this over a nightmare. A disturbing one at that, though. He had drempt about when Scully was returned to the hospital after her disappearance. He had talked with Mrs. Scully and the doctor about the living will, and as before, had left the hospital after the decision was made. Only this time, when the phone call came, it wasn't to say she'd pulled out of the coma, but to ask if he was going to come to the funeral. It was then he woke up screaming. He'd tried washing his face with cold water to wake himself up, but he couldn't shake the image of Scully in a black casket, arms folded over her chest. It was really spooking him out. Maybe thats why he had decided to see Scully. So he could see for himself that she was truely alright. To give himself visual proof that he hadn't lost her, as he had come so dangerously close many times. He shook those thoughts from his mind. When he traded his sister for her on the bridge, nearly being decapitated. He also thought of the time he had failed her. He could still recall the sounds of her cries for help, muffled over his answering machine. His heart dropped into his stomach remembering. He nearly pulled his hair out trying to drive to her house after hearing her screams. And when he arrived, it took all of his will-power to hold himself together while examining the crime scene. Then he'd failed again hunting her down before they took her. He was never good enough. Always minutes too late. He blamed himself for losing her for those three months. It was his damned passion that got her involved in the first place. She should be a forensic pathologist in the FBI, doing routine, safe work. But instead he'd put her through hell. Scully got slowly into the car, dressed in loose jeans and a T-Shirt. She noticed the tired expression on Mulder's face, but decided not to bring it up yet. He looked like hell. Wearing similar clothes, he had a much more distressing appearance. He was slouched over in what looked like dejection, his eyes set back by the dark circles under them. His lips were drawn in a tight, emotionless line. He didn't look well. The car slowly drew to a halt in front of a nearby all night coffee shop. They entered the dark building and sat down at a table. Scully ordered a latte for herself, and forced a cup of hot chocolate on Mulder. "You don't look like you've had enough sleep, the seratonin in warm milk will help you sleep." "And you've had a lot of sleep?" "Your's piles up, you know that." Several moments passed in silence. "We need to talk." Mulder glanced at Scully in anticipation. "You don't just look tired, Mulder, you look as if somethings bothering you." "Nothing but insomnia." "Don't lie to me, Mulder." "I know, I know, you can see right through me. I was just brooding over the past. I can handle it, no need to drag it up and depress you." "Mulder..." "Its nothing." "I know better. And I want to help." "I know you do Scully. Its hard, though. I had a dream, about after you came back. Except this time you didn't pull through. I think I woke up the whole building." "I'm here, Mulder, and I'm okay. You can see that." "I know, but you have no idea what went on while you were gone." "No, Mulder, you're right, I don't. Thats a gap in my life I am trying to put behind me. You should too, its in the past." "I can't Scully. Those three months were hell for me. I was worried sick. I tried pulling in all the favors people owed me. Practically lived with the gunmen for a week trying to find something... anything about your location. I lost twelve pounds, and would have lost more if your Mom hadn't fed me every once in a while. "After a couple of months, I started losing hope. And that made me angry. I've been looking for Sam for all of my adult life, and I still have hope. For me to give up, after only two months... I was furious. I thought hard about... well, giving up." Scully flinched. "Hell, I even got arrested for public drunkeness, Skinner had to bail me out." Mulder laughed harshly. Scully reached out and took Mulder's hand, truely astonished at him. "Mulder, I'm sorry, I didn't know." "No, I'm sure you have your own memories." "I do, Mulder. My nightmare was strange, but it felt like it had happened before. It doesn't make sense though, but it still scared the hell out of me. I've had my own things to worry about though. How do you think I felt when you disappeared to go to Puerto Rico, or Alaska. I was scared then too. You just dive right into things without checking how deep they are. I'm always afraid you'll be hurt, and this next time, a hospital won't save you." Both sat quietly for a moment, thinking. "We'd better get out of here, I think the bus-boy is anxious to get at our table." Scully grinned slightly, and got up, taking her coffee with her. "You think I can just take the couch at your place. That hot chocolate worked, I'm sleepy already." "Sure Mulder. I'll be in the bedroom if you need me." "Oh, and Scully?" "Pleasant dreams." The End