From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org Date: 15 May 2006 13:40:37 -0000 Subject: Thawing 1/1 by ScamBeliever Source: direct Reply To: scambeliever@hotmail.com TITLE: Thawing AUTHOR: ScamBeliever EMAIL ADDRESS: scambeliever@hotmail.com DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, sure. RATING: PG CLASSIFICATION: S, A, M POV KEYWORDS: M/S something, er...S/O SPOILER WARNING: Two Fathers One Son, Arcadia SUMMARY: Mulder wonders why Scully forgives him. Companion piece to Better. DISCLAIMER: They aren't mine FEEDBACK: This is the only way I'd know if I should continue writing. DEDICATION: For Caroline, Robin, xf4ever, and Talitha. Because you asked. :) Thawing --------- You feel a nudge on your right shoulder and it startles you awake, rescuing you from a dream about almost drowning in a sea of slime. You're not sure if it's triggered by personal experience or you just watched a rerun of Ghost Busters recently. You remember what woke you up when you feel soft hair tickling your cheek. When you turn your head, all you see is a mass of red. You sigh in relief. You think that she may have finally thawed. Maybe. Of all the cases you had to start with when the X-Files was given back to you, it just had to be an undercover case posing as a married couple. After Cassandra, the face-off with Scully at the Gunmen's, the El Rico fiasco, you wanted to face whoever deity came up with the idea and tell him or her that it wasn't remotely funny, while you poke hard on the supreme being's chest using your middle finger. If you weren't happy about it, Scully was...let's just say you could see her mentally mutilating your body while you were discussing the details. The first day back to their basement, Scully was so cold that you thought you'd suffer worse than the frostbite you had when you went to Antartica. When Asst. Dir. Skinner handed you the assignment, the urge to ask him to tell Scully himself and hide behind him as he did so was overwhelming. Scully's head is sliding, in grave danger of tipping forward and landing on your lap. You adjust her head, especially careful not to wake her. You're still not sure if she'll pull away, silently reprimanding herself for letting her guard down. With your hand barely touching her forehead that it was almost magic, you peer down to check if she looks comfortable, like her neck is not in a weird angle and she will most likely be cranky when she wakes up. You know you'll end up taking the blame for it. You freeze when you see that her eyes are open. She's awake but she has not pulled away, nor does she seem to want to. Now, you don't know what to do with your hand up there. You move your hand away as slowly as possible, checking if it will garner any reaction at all. To your shock, her eyes flutter close and she leans heavily on your shoulder. You feel like a heavy burden has just been lifted from your shoulders. Maybe, just maybe, she has forgiven you. Sometimes, you wonder what you have done so right in the past to deserve her unfailing forgiveness. She may rant when you ditch her, rave when you do something extremely stupid, shoot you when you are about to get yourself in deeper trouble, yet after the anger, weary resignation, then the awkward attempts to get things back to normal, in the end, she forgives you anyway. You cast another glance at her head. Her breathing seems heavy enough for you to assume she's really sleeping now. You'd like to think she forgives you because she believes. Not every far-fetched theory you throw at her on any given opportunity, but she believes in the work. The pursuit of truth. She believes in you. If no one else does, at least you have her. Despite Diana's return and her obvious interest in the X-Files, Scully is still your one in five billion. That is why even if things have been especially strained between the two of you, you know that both of you will find a way to work things out. She didn't cover for you, lie for you, come after you, risk her life, job and sanity for you just to throw in the towel because things got personal. You wince at the memory of saying possibly the most stupid and unforgiving thing to date. She lost her sister, her daughter, three months, fertility and you almost lost her to cancer. Of course it was personal. Going to the end of the world, following her to Antartica doesn't even come close to breaking it even. Why does she forgive you again? Because frankly, you still can't believe she still had it in her to do so despite recent events that you'd like to erase from your memory. Scully shifts a little on your shoulder and your eyes land on her knees peeking out of her skirt. You haven't seen this outfit before. It's probably the fifth new suit you've seen her in since you got the X-Files back. You remember one time when you were in the basement very early to start re-organizing the office, you were squatting beside one of the boxes of files when she walked in wearing a new black suit. She said good morning and went to open a similar box you had opened that was on top of your desk. You were eye level with her skirt and your eyes followed how it swayed and flapped gently against her white calves. You decided then that you'd take her out to lunch so that you can take a longer look at that skirt as she walks in front of you. That never happened because she already had plans for lunch and you were left to contemplate why her new suit intrigued you. After that time, you noticed the subtle changes on her - her new clothes were not inappropriately tight or short but they didn't hide her figure anymore. Sometimes you wondered if she still wore any make-up at all. They were so light that she almost caught you staring once at her freckles while she was in the middle of explaining the results of an autopsy she was called to consult. She even changed her perfume. You noticed it when you came down for breakfast while you were 'married' and you caught a whiff of it as you passed between the sink and the seat she had taken. She was leaning forward on the table, reading the morning paper intently. You bent down until her hair tickled your chin and you sniffed. Twice. You saw her stiffen and raise here head but she didn't turn around to face you. She did, however, ask you outright what the heck you were doing. You had an array of smart answers to choose from but you settled for something less dangerous to say to a still-haven't-forgotten-El Rico-cranky morning Scully. "New?" You had asked. "Yes." She said as she turned back to her newspaper. "It's nice." "It's a gift." She replied, never looking at you. Gift... Holy Mother of... You smack your head at your latest screw up. The sudden movement wakes Scully and she moves away from your shoulder, holding her head like you smacked it instead of hers. "God Mulder, what is it?" she asks, slightly slurring her words. "Sorry, it's nothing. Get back to sleep." You reach around her shoulder so that you can pull her back but she shakes her head. You watch her as she folds her coat to a pillow and lean on the other side, against the window. "You sure you're comfortable there?" You ask guiltily. No answer. "Scully?" She sighs. "Mulder, I'm fine." Great. Just great. You try not to pull your hair in frustration. ******************** Scully offers you a ride but you're too distracted while she tells you that someone is going to pick her up. There is a gift shop nearby and you hastily decline her offer, leaving her in the middle of tourist traffic. No, the gift shop may not have something that will impress her but you never know. After a quick and expectedly uninspiring browse, you step out of the small store and wish you had hitched a ride with Scully. You weren't gone for long so you try to search for her through the crowds in case she's still waiting for her ride, most likely her mom. You see her walking from your far left. You are in mid-wave and about to call her when the man walking next to her takes her large bag. You blink to check if it was indeed Scully you spotted. It didn't occur to you that the tall, blond man in preppy collared shirt and khakis was with her. Your eyes automatically skipped over non-redheaded people, dismissing him as part of the crowd. If you were surprised a couple of seconds ago, you are stunned now. The two pause, letting a line of school children pass, two of which are holding "Welcome back Mrs. Spellman," when the tall man raises Scully's hand to his lips. Scully, who finds the children endearing, does not react at all. What bothers you is that she didn't seem to have just simply ignored the gesture but she acts like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like the man has done it a dozen times before. The last of the children out of the way, the two of them continue walking with Scully's hand now tucked under the man's arm. They pass by without noticing you and you catch a bit of their conversation. You prefer the airport chaos right now but your ears instinctively single them out. "You smell nice." "Oh, thank you. I've been using it for a few days. I like it." "I'm glad." And then a screaming baby cuts them off. You stand rooted to your spot, roughly ten paces from the gift shop, right in the middle of the airport, forcing the crowds to go around you. The suits, the perfume, make-up....it all makes sense to you now. What bothers you is that for some insane reason, you entertained the thought that it was for you. A subtle way of making you pay attention. What makes your stomach hurt right now, like someone snuck a solid kick, is that it's for someone else. Someone, who at the very least, remembers her birthday. You suddenly wonder if it has anything to do with her unexpectedly forgiving mood. You shake your head to clear that thought. No. Please, not that. ******************** END Thawing Thank you for letting me share a piece of my X-Files insanity.