From: Ten Date: Sat, 16 Jan 1999 21:43:06 +1000 (EST) Subject: Selfish(1/1) 101 degrees here. Please send me your snow... TITLE: "Selfish" (1/1) BY: Ten E-MAIL ADDRESS: kristena@ocean.com.au CATEGORY: V, A, UST RATING: PG-13 SUMMARY: Another Mulder-ditch...could it possibly have noble intent? TIMESPAN/SPOILER WARNING: Set in the early fourth season. Probably before "Unruhe". THANKS TO: Debbie, Crash, Mac and Gerry. This story is not a new idea; there have been other variations I've read in fanfic, including one by Macspooky (Godmother of my M&S action figures seeing as she wouldn't get her own). And in this story Scully *does* have a desk in the X- Files office - she would have HAD to sometime in four years, dammit! If they had argued over "why isn't my nameplate on the door?", that would have made more sense... but I digress, sorry . ARCHIVE INFO: It goes to Gossamer through xff. Can be archived anywhere as long as my name, addy and disclaimer stay intact. FEEDBACK: Love it. DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and the characters of Mulder and Scully belong to Chris Carter, Ten Thirteen Productions and Fox Broadcasting, and are used without permission. No copyright infringement is intended, no profit will be gained. The X-Files: "Selfish" (1/1) By Ten, Written Jan 1997, Posted January 1999 A Friday noon in October 1996: Scully and Mulder were heading out of the basement office in search of the sandwich cart man when the phone rang. Mulder wheeled round. "I'll get it." "I'll get you some lunch." Scully saw his grateful look and she let loose an affectionate smile as soon as her back was turned. Just outside the door she stopped, looking at her bag in her hand as she remembered she had taken her purse out earlier - had she put it back in or was it still on her desk? As she scrambled in the bag she heard Mulder's voice through the wood. "WHAT? Are you *sure*?" Long pause. "...no. No, I won't tell her. I'll come as soon as I can. Thank you." Scully tensed. /What the hell kind of information has X just given him?/ Or whatever mysterious contact it was. She tried to rationalise what she heard. /Calm down, it could just have been Skinner./ Firm. Unwavering. Mulder was speaking again: "Hi, I need to know the next flight leaving for -" "Here I am, Agent Scully." Adrian, the cart man, had come up without her noticing. She jumped. He apologised, but she could see he was not puzzled at why she had been trying to ingrain herself into the door. Adrian was almost a permanent 'mobile fixture' around the building - Accounting kept pushing for more vending machines to replace his service, for cost and security reasons, but he was a retired agent with enough connections to keep himself trundling his cart until he was good and ready to call a day on his second career. He had also worked with Mulder on a few cases in his long Bureau history, so any strange goings on in the basement had never fazed him. "I've got some great tomato for you," he said. "And I know Agent Mulder's stomach must have been growling big time to drive you out of the office, so I'll give you another round of chicken for him on the house." "I - thanks, Adrian." A few more seconds of searching in her bag located her purse, and she paid distractedly, her mind screaming at him to go away, which he at last did. Out of habit, she glanced through the plastic triangle at the chicken filling to see if it looked fresh. Just like a wife would do. A wife whose husband appeared to be having a bit on the side. Scully went to re-enter the office as she juggled the sandwiches and her bag, only to have Mulder pull the door open from the other side as he stuffed a few files into his briefcase. He looked disconcerted at seeing her there. He tried to cover with a delighted grin upon spying the extra chicken. He quickly offloaded it from her and reached for his wallet - she accepted the double payment without a word - and he pulled a triangle out to take a bite. "How about heading for the park?" Somehow he managed to sound clear. "Might as well make the most of the weather before we hit November rain." /Stringing me along so he can make an excuse and slip off.../ She indicated the briefcase. "Taking work with us to lunch? On a paperwork day when this hour is our only respite?" "Ah, well... Just some things I want to read through. Research." "When? On the flight we're about to take?" She got the satisfaction of seeing him choke on a mouthful and benevolently gave him a few whacks on the back (more therapeutic for her than him) as they headed for the elevator. "You heard?" he finally spluttered. "Yes, and I'm coming too! You're not ditching me again." "Scully, I don't want you coming along because..." He paused and looked at the floor. "Because if the Miami police have sighted that Bounty Hunter, I don't want you getting hurt by him again." She gaped. "What? He's been sighted again? Miami? Mulder, there's no way I'm letting you go contract the retro- virus again, especially not in a sunny, tropical area! I -" His eyes pinned hers and she realised from his satisfied nod that she had walked into his trap. He said, "You didn't hear after all. Or not enough at least. Good, because it's going to stay that way. You're staying here. This is something I have to do. I swear it does not involve the Bounty Hunter or Miami or any danger. ...at least not any physical danger. Please just accept that. I'll phone as soon as I can to let you know when I'll be back." His eyes pleaded with her. "Oh no. No, Mulder. You can't ditch me at an airport. I can find you easily enough. I've done it before." "Scully, please - trust me." "What are you going to do?" "It's something very important, but not dangerous. I can't tell you." Standoff looks. Mulder was NOT backing down. He was deadly serious. He resumed the walk to the elevators, her following. As they got there, Kim appeared out of one of the stationery store rooms, carrying an armful of assorted supplies. "Ahhh, Agent Mulder, Agent Scully - you are still here. The AD thought you were already at lunch - but he does want to see you." "About a case or a report?" Mulder asked. "The last expenses report you both filed. Accounting is really putting the pressure on. I think you're giving that department an ulcer, so in retaliation they're making his ulcer worse." Kim stepped into the elevator. Scully looked at Mulder. "Now you *have* to stay. Come on, let's get our report copies and see what we can come up with." "Well, Scully, you always come up with more rational explanations than me," Mulder said. "I'm counting on you now. You save us from the Accounting beast and I'll...do what I have to." Then he brazenly slipped into the closing elevator, leaving Dana speechless with anger. Scully sat at home, staring murderously at the phone. This was it. When he got back - or at least when a hospital notified her and he became conscious enough to hear her properly - she was going to tell him they were through. Enough of his self-serving missions. Didn't he ever think of her? She was not going to be dumped again. This time she would be the dumper. What could possibly be so important as to risk Skinner's wrath? Not to mention HERS? Samantha, probably. Or little grey men. Mulder had sworn there was no danger. Ha. She would accept the possibility of alien life before she believed that vow. Dana grit her teeth. She was part of his quest and had been for three years now - she wanted to find Sam and the truth as much as he did; she had just as much invested, but this was what she got in return. He still treated his leads like they were personal. After today, they would be. Completely his again. Time to step out of the game. All of a sudden Mulder's voice came through her front door. "Scully?!" /Why didn't he knock? Oh God - is he so injured he can't knock?/ She leapt up, even as her brain told her he didn't sound like he was dying - a little uncertain of her reaction perhaps... She opened the door to reveal a well-enough looking Mulder, as far as she could tell, since he was nearly hidden behind the big box he was hefting. Was he trying to soothe his way back into her good books? "A present?" "A return actually." He put it down carefully on the floor, watching her with a strange expression. She gave him a long look, just standing there. He returned the look, tired and triumphant. She gave up for the moment and began pulling aside the flaps as he continued, "I wanted to be sure...I couldn't let you build up hope that wouldn't pan out..." Scully opened the last flap as she glanced up at him, and she realised she had just seen...airholes?...in one side of the cardboard that had been turned away from her. From the nest of paper and blankets in the bottom of the box, a drowsy and very familiar fluffy head turned upward. "Queequeg!" The dog stared, then sniffed her. Recognition hit and he excitedly set about yapping and scrambling to be lifted, which she did immediately. Scully buried her face in his fur, hugging her long-lost, supposedly alligator-eaten, pet. She began to cry and laugh and couldn't believe he was back in her arms. Five months! Well, Mulder came back from the dead for her, and she for him, so was this any different? She looked up to see Mulder kneeling on the floor next to her, giving that rare smile. She cradled the restless dog in her arms and lap as she asked, "How?" "A couple found him on their way back to their cabin. They have a permanent place in an isolated part of the lake - woodcarvers. Queequeg was a bit gashed up, as you can see from the scars on his side, but they fixed him up and cared for him. The couple weren't exactly recluses, however they didn't bring Queequeg into town with them often, and the sheriff didn't see either of them with the dog until yesterday, then he realised it was yours. He dug around and found our number. Fortunately he got me instead of you. I would have hated for him to have been wrong." "You went all that way...when you didn't even like Queequeg?" Mulder shrugged uncomfortably, "He meant a lot to you. I don't have to like him to be able to understand that. Or put up with him. And at least he was always there for you. I can't say that for me...can I?" His quiet tone quickly changed back to lighthearted. "And I must admit, I was very glad to see him too. Anything that can survive a 'gator without using a gun on it gets my respect." "You come through on the important things," Scully corrected him. She gave him a look that she hoped made it all worthwhile; a smile that she didn't turn away to hide. The dog yap yap yapped for all he was worth. Mulder sighed a great big sigh then gave a very irony-laden: "Oh, how I missed this... He yapped all the way in the car - the break on the flight was a relief! - we would have been back sooner but I had to keep giving him walks and breaks. There's some dog food and stuff out in the car. I thought you'd have gotten rid of yours by now." "Was it easy for the woodwork couple to part with him?" "I showed them proof and promised to buy them another Pomeranian. God knows why they'd want it though..." He looked at the dancing Queequeg in Scully's lap - blocking any chance of a hug. "Well, dogster, if I'm going to have to put up with you, I'll call you 'Q'!" Dana rolled her eyes. "Can't we keep Star Trek out of this?" "How mad is Skinner?" "Very, but I'll talk him round. That's the least I can do for you." A few hours later: Scully watched Queequeg settling into his basket for the night. His blanket was one of Mulder's old, grey t-shirts and he was snuggling into it with great contentment. Scully sighed wistfully, remembering hugging Mulder at the door as he was leaving. Being pressed up against his shirt and chest for a few long seconds, thinking how nice it would be to stay that way...or sleep that way... "You lucky thing..." She ran her hand tenderly through the fur on top of Queequeg's head, then went to bed. THE END.