From: Date: Wed, 8 Jul 1998 15:31:43 EDT Subject: Song and Dance Title: Song and Dance Author: Koren M. E-mail: RavenAmbr@aol.com Rating: PG (language) Category: Vignette Spoilers: none Keywords: MSR Summary: A new song is sung, a new dance has begun. Author's note and Dedication: This story is dedicated to someone who was once a very good friend of mine. We eventually went our separate ways, but the idea for this story came from one of our marathon phone conversations that we inevitably engaged in when we should have been studying. I honestly can't say that I was the one that came up with the initial events that start the story, because I don't remember which of us did. It was probably her. I found an old file folder of outlines that we had thrown back and forth, and decided that this one's time had come. So this is for you, Ella. I don't think that I would have ever even watched the show if it hadn't been for you. Disclaimer: The X-Files, Mulder and Scully, and the events portrayed here aren't my creations, nor would I ever dream of taking them away from Chris Carter, Fox, and 1013. Besides, suing me would be fruitless, I have no money. Or fruit. Feedback is always welcome, but flames will be used to make S'mores! Send all feedback to RavenAmbr@aol.com Song and Dance by Koren M. "He's where?.........No, I know where it is. I'll be there in about an hour. Thank you." Dana Scully slammed down the phone and closed her eyes as she leaned her head against the wall. It was the some old song and dance. She was bailing him out again. This time the call had come from a waitress at a local restaurant, needing her drive him home. She snapped out of her daze and reached for her jacket and keys. The bar-and-grill style restaurant was nearly empty when she got there. The chairs and bar stools had already been moved out of the way and stacked on tables and counters. She looked around and saw only a few tell-tale splinters of glass and wood to indicate the fight that had transpired earlier. "Dana Scully?" She turned to look at the girl who stood in the doorway to her left. She recognized the voice as the one on the phone. "Yes. I'm Dana Scully. You said that my partner was here?" "Yeah. He's in the back room. He's not hurt real bad, but he's been talkin' nonsense since it happened. You might want to take him to get his head checked on." As angry as she was, Scully had to stifle a laugh at the comment. The girl led her back to the small storage room behind the bar. Mulder was sitting there, his head in his hands. There was a tear visible on one of his shirt sleeves, and his jeans sported dark streaks that might be blood. She hoped it wasn't his. He didn't seem to notice her entrance even though the opened doorway she stood in was all that lit the otherwise dark room. She knelt down and pushed his hands away from his face so she could look up at him. "Mulder? You ok?" He met her eyes, and she saw the traces of anger and exhaustion and physical pain that were there. That pain made her look away from his eyes and focus up and down his body, seeking out the injuries he inevitably had. The only things she saw in that surface inspection were various bruises coloring his arms and face. She was relieved to see that the dark streaks on his jeans weren't blood, but dark paint or stain, probably from furniture he'd run into. "Come on, let's go." He stood up as she did, and walked out into the main room with her. She nodded to the waitress as they passed and led him to her car. "We'll get your car sometime tomorrow. You're in no shape to try to drive tonight." When he didn't answer, she gave up and let the rest of the trip pass in silence. Scully opened the door to her apartment and shrugged out of her jacket. "Go ahead and take a shower while I get you some clothes, then I'll take a look at those bruises." Mulder still didn't say anything, and that was starting to worry her. Usually by the time that they got to her place he was either apologizing or babbling incessantly about what he had seen or what had happened. She hadn't realized how much she needed to hear about it until now. She forced herself to focus on the tasks at hand and went to her closet to find his clothes. They had realized early on in their partnership that they should leave at least one or two changes of clothes at each other's apartments, but she had at least 5 or 6 of his. Anytime that he got hurt or she had to bail him out of something they invariably ended up at her place, and half the time his stuff ended up in her laundry and stuck around. She dug up a t-shirt and jeans and slipped them around the bathroom door, then got down the box of first aid materials. She glanced up when she heard the bathroom door open and gestured toward the couch. "Sit down, and let me take a look at you." He pushed the coffee table back so there would be room for her, then sat down. She knelt in front of him and began to carefully examine the bruises on his face. "You lucked out this time Mulder. All you've got is minor bruising, although that eye may swell shut." She handed him an ice pack to place on it. "So what happened this time?" He sighed. "Agent McCord from Fraud is what happened." "Elaborate." She ran her fingers along his scalp looking for bumps and sore spots. "I was minding my own business, waiting for Langly to drop off a video of some UFO footage. McCord came in with a few of his buddies and started running his mouth off. I asked him to stop, he wouldn't and it went downhill from there." She looked up at him in surprise. Usually he took the 'Spooky' comments in stride, and ignored them. She shifted back into doctor mode and started to feel along his ribs. When he flinched she sighed. "I think you bruised some ribs, Mulder. Let me take a look at them." She tugged at the tail of his shirt and he pulled it off. "No offense Mulder, but that's not exactly like you. I know the 'Spooky' comments bug you, they bug me, but why'd you go and hit him?" She frowned at the dark blue streaks along his side. "He wasn't talking about me, Scully. He was talking about you." Surprise made her press harder against his ribs than she'd meant to. He flinched and she automatically gentled her touch to a light caress to make up for it. "What do you mean, he was talking about me?" Mulder hesitated before telling her. He knew she had heard on occasion some of the comments that were made about her, Pendrell had even hit on her directly. That still didn't make him any more comfortable telling her about it. "He and some of his buddies came in, already half drunk, and saw me. McCord came over and sat down where he was within earshot, then started telling his friends about how he wanted to 'screw' you and how he could make you forget all about what it was like to be screwed by the Bureau freak." He left it at that, not about to mention the 'Ice Maiden' comments that had followed. His hands clenched into fists as he talked, and she laid her free hand on them in an effort to calm him. "McCord is an asshole Mulder." "Yeah, that's kinda the conclusion that I reached, right before I punched him." She didn't respond, and he let the conversation drift off. But his mind still went over the things that McCord had said, in much more graphic language than he had shared with Scully. They were in a very tenuous position as far as the Bureau rumor mill was concerned. Not only were they a male/female partnership, which while not unusual was still far from the norm, but they were for the most part removed from the rest of the social circles within the organization. And Scully was far from undesirable in most of the men's eyes. They all thought that they were better than he was, because they were 'normal' and he was 'spooky'. That led them to the conclusion that they needed to show her what she was missing, and save her from him. Her hand touched his face, cradling his cheek and turning his head so he faced her. "You do know that they're wrong about that Mulder. Don't you?" Scully's question surprised him. He realized then that he must have been mumbling to himself without realizing it. "I'm not so sure, Scully. It's the same old song and dance. What would your life have been like if it hadn't been for me and my quest?" she started to shake her head, but he pulled away and stood up to pace. "In fact, we've hashed this out so many times that it's starting to get really old. I think that the bottom line here is that if it keeps coming back to this, then there must be some truth in it." She sat down in the space he'd just vacated. "What are you getting at Mulder?" she rubbed her forehead, trying to ignore the tension forming there. It already had the makings of a long night. He stopped pacing in the middle of the floor and pinned her with a look. "I want to know why you never take any of these guys up on their offers. I don't mean the jerks like McCord" he rushed on when she started to respond "I mean the ok ones. And I know that not every single guy that's asked you out has been a jerk." "What do you want me to say Mulder?" "There's nothing that I want you to say! I want to know what you think, what your reasons are." She looked up, irritation flaming in her blue eyes. "What about you?! You don't date either Mulder. I know that those tapes and magazines you have can't be a substitute for a night out, even in your head. There are plenty of nice women who have indicated they're interested, if not outright asked. What do you think? What are your reasons?" "I asked you first!" he shouted, then he stopped, realizing how childish it sounded. "Does it really matter Mulder? The whole goddamn Bureau thinks we're sleeping together! Hell, even Skinner probably does." "What are you talking about? McCord only said that to get me mad." "No, I don't think he did. You should hear some of what's said in the lady's room." "There's a slight technical difficulty there." She rolled her eyes. "The point is that the general consensus around there is that we're.....involved." "We are involved Scully, we're just not 'involved'." He sat down on the coffee table, close enough that their knees touched. "Believe me, they've made it very clear what type of 'involved' they meant." she grinned. "Very clear." "And what do they say?" Her smile had always been contagious for him. "A lot of things. That we act like we should already be married." "Married?" "I think there's a pool going about when we're going to start wearing rings." The humor suddenly vanished. He leaned closer to her, and lowered his voice. "Do you want a ring Scully?" "What?" She whispered. His voice could effect her on some level she didn't understand, and unconsciously she matched it. He picked up her hand and traced a circle around her ring finger. "Do you want a ring?" He seemed to be focused totally on the never ending circle he was creating. "You mean ever? Mulder, I-" "I mean from me." "Oh god." It was barely audible. She'd heard that edge in his voice only once or twice before. It pulled at something she didn't want to acknowledge. "I..... Mulder, what....I mean....I don't know what I mean." "That's not a no." "But it's not a yes." She regained her bearings slightly. "Why are you asking this Mulder?" "Why not? If everyone already thinks it, what's left to stop us?" "Mulder!" She stood up abruptly, jerking her hand free. "That's not a good reason! That's like saying that because everyone believes that the conspiracies aren't real we should give up on trying to prove the truth. Don't ask me about this if it's just to give everyone what they want!" In perfect counterpoint to her sudden movement and raised voice he rose slowly and continued speaking with a dangerous velvet edge. "That's not how I see it. That's not why I was asking." "Then why were you asking?" She was angry. He thought it made her beautiful. "This." In a moment both sudden and endless he closed the distance between them. She knew what was coming, and she couldn't pull away. One hand trapped her waist, the other slid under her hair to cradle her head. Movements both predatory and comforting, just like him. Then he kissed her. And she kissed him back. It was more than she had imagined during those brief flashes of daydreams she had allowed herself, and everything she had been promised during the nightdreams she'd tried to forget. Just kissing him was better than anything she'd done with anyone else. And she knew that a new song and dance had begun.