From: Laura Bontrager Date: Mon, 01 Mar 1999 01:14:16 -0500 (CDT) Subject: Tuesday (1/1) Title: Tuesday (1/1) Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. SPOILER::::US6, "Monday" obviously..... ~~~~ Tuesday ~~~~ "But Monday morning, Monday morning Couldn't guarantee That Monday evening you would still be here, be here with me." --"Monday, Monday", Mommas and the Papas ~~~~ She was on the cold cold floor, glaring into the eyes of a man who was beyond crazy, beyond salvage, his movements jerky and twitching. She looked back down to Mulder, feeling the panic squeeze her again, that frantic desperation that threatened to make her hysterical. "Please, please. I just want everyone to live. . ." His face sneers and Mulder hitches in her arms, sucking in a great lungful of blood and breath, his eyes rolling back. "Mulder," she said softly, feeling that desperation leech into her again. "Mulder. Open your eyes. Mulder, look at me. . .look at me." She tapped his nose, then lifted his lids, illiciting at least a blinking stare from him. His breath whispered across her cheek, and he closed his eyes for a moment before managing the energy to focus. "Sorry. . ." he wheezed. Scully felt the sob rock her, and she pulled Mulder tighter to her. "You're not leaving me. . . you can't leave me." She said the words with such aching sorrow, such hysteria, that his eyes slid open again. "Whatever happened to friendly banking?" he whispered, licking his lips. She had to smile with the utter urgency, the utter hopelessness of their situation. He reached with an uncooridinated hand for her arm, but snagged her chin instead. Shaking his head, he fumbled, but she grabbed his hand and kissed his palm. "We're going to get you out of here, and you're going to be okay, Mulder." He nodded but she felt him slipping. Looking back at the man, she bit her lip to keep from crying. "Please. . .I have to get him out of here. . ." ~~~~ Dana Scully woke from her dream with shivering sobs, feeling her sheets soaked in her own tears, her face bathed in salt. She wiped her eyes and padded to the bathroom, glancing in the mirror to look at herself. She couldn't imagine trying to sleep now. . . The face of a dying Mulder was going to haunt her dreams for a long time yet. She decided to work on her report, clear out some of her emotional baggage as she did. ~~~~ Scully shook her head and began typing again, trying to get every fact down in Helvetica font, size 12, black and blazing. But it eluded her once more. Letting go of a frustrated moan, Scully stood angrily, taking the laptop with her. But not the ethernet card. She gaped as the green ethernet cord ripped from the side of her computer, the small card making a horrible breaking noise as it fell. She picked it up, looking carefully at the end of the cord, wrinkling her eyebrows with a sinking feeling. Tiny brass looking teeth jutted from the end, crooked now and some even broken off, their shiny exterior marred with deep scratches. She frowned. The card didn't look like this normally. She peered down at her laptop and groaned. Half of the ethernet card was still in the port. Cursing silently, Scully set the computer on her kitchen table, then rooted around in her junk drawer for a pair of needlenose pliers. All she found was an old screwdriver and some nails and rubberbands, not to mention coupons from three years ago. She sighed and pulled out the kitchen chair, settling down to pick at the computer parts, hoping they'd all come together. . .somehow. ~~~~ Mulder grunted awake when the heavy thudding came from his door. He blinked and hesitantly put his feet down. Sighing in relief at the lack of an ocean in his living room, Mulder walked to his door, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. He opened it to find Scully standing there awkwardly, one hand clutching a disk, her other hand raised to knock again. "Oh." she said softly. "Were you asleep?" "If I lied would you know?" She raised her eyebrow and frowned at him, shaking her head. "Yes. But come in, Scully. You're better than sleep any night. . ." He gave her a suggestive wink and ushered her into his living room, throwing back the blankets to offer her a seat. She remained standing, her fingers twitching a bit, but her face calm. "My computer ethernet card got screwed. I was wondering if I could use your computer to send in my report to Skinner?" "Sure. What did you say?" She glared at him. "No thanks to you, I managed to piece it together, although I still have no idea how you knew about Bernard-" He shook his head and started up his computer, cutting her off with a sigh that echoed in the room. "I just want to see how you report it first, Scully. Your unbiased facts down on paper." She cocked her head and gave him a smug look. "I always report unbiased fact." He just looked at her, with a 'yeah-right' glint to his eyes that made her head duck. She pushed him aside and let the drive suck in her disk with a scherlp of computer whirring and hissing and grating. Calling up the report was easy, but she only managed to glance at it before Mulder took over the mouse and began scrolling through. He stopped about mid-way through the first page, then looked to her increduously. "Scully, that's not how it happened. She warned *you* first remember?" She looked horrified for a moment, then her face grew relaxed again. "No, she didn't Mulder. She jumped out of her car and tried to convince you not to go in the bank after me. I was depositing your check. . ." Mulder looked confused and he glanced to moniter once again. "Mulder, remember, I was already there and you came in, gun drawn-" He took her hand roughly, stopping her sentences. "No. Stop. You're getting me confused. You weren't already there. I was there first. *I* went to get my check-" She paused, pulling her hand from his grasp and silently frowning, confusion radiating from her posture. "You were there? Right. Okay, and I came after you. . .? Because you were late for the meeting." "Yeah. I was late. . .no. I asked you to get the woman in the car. Scully, remember? What's going on? Why can't we remember straight?" She shook her head and looked at her report. "I sat down to write it, Mulder. . .and about seven different versions came to mind. . .a thousand different things. I can't get it down right." "This is how it happened. I woke up, deja vu all over the place. We talked about fate-" "No. No we didn't," she said assuredly, and tapped her nail on his knee. "Yes we did. About chances being random-" "No. Mulder we didn't. We talked about your waterbed." He looked at her shocked, his face going into his famous deadpan-panic look. "How do you know about the waterbed? Hey! Did you send it to me?" he asked, a suspicious look stealing through her eyes. Scully held her hand out to stop him, shaking her head and closing her eyes. "What are you talking about, Mulder?" His eyes narrowed, but he let it go, sure now that she had delivered him a real bed. . . >With the mirrors on the celing? Woah, Scully. . .< He closed out her saved report and opened a new document, beginning a rough draft of his own version of events, sure to set it down straight. He started writing and found he couldn't sort through all the pictures in his head, couldn't place the images with his memories, and every time he thought he was sure, the idea shifted and there was another point he hadn't remembered before. She was watching him triumphantly. "See, you can't get it, either." He leaned back, chewing on a pen he'd picked up from the table, frowning. "I think this lack of ability to put down what truly happened only proves my theory all the more," he said finally. His face was looking to hers expectantly, but all he saw was a raised eyebrow and seething disbelief. "Mulder. I don't even know what your theory is. You haven't yet chosen to enlighten me." Her glance was frosty, her voice stone hard and cold. Mulder kicked back in the chair and glanced at her for a full long minute. "I forgot," he said finally, shrugging. "Monday kept repeating over and over until we got it right." Scully's eyebrow raised higher, if possible. "I don't think God does that." Mulder lifted a finger, shook his head, and smiled smugly. "Yes, He does, Scully. He made the sun stand still for Joshua and the Israelites during battle, so that they would win. And He moved the sun backwards in the sky for a dying man." Scully worried her lip between her teeth, then crossed her arms, a signal to Mulder that told him he had to get his arguement in quickly, while she was moderately receptive. "The day repeated and only Bernard's girlfriend knew it, probably because she was supposed to die. . ." Scully glanced away, a sudden wash of memory and grief assualting her. "She wasn't meant to be." Mulder glanced at her carefully, hearing his own words after Emily's death coming back to haunt him. "The day just kept going over and over until everything was set right. She never thought to go in after him. . .she wanted to keep everyone from dying." Scully sat down heavily in the couch. "She said we'd die in that bank. . ." "She'd seen it happen often enough. It must have been awful to be her, like the cursed woman in Troy who knows the city's doomed because of the gift horse, but no one will listen to her. . ." Scully shivered. "I keep having this dream. . ." she said softly, looking up to him. He sat down carefully on the coffee table, easing the newspaper off onto the floor and watching her mind's troubles storm across her face. He traced her knees with his fingers, letting out a sigh at the touch. She gripped his hand hard for a second then leaned back, pulling from him. "I have this dream that we're both in the bank. . .and I come in with my gun drawn, shouting, both of us have our guns trained on him. . .he turns and shoots you. I see you drop and all I can think is that there's so much blood, so much everywhere." Mulder took her hands with his, smoothing his palm along her wrists, his fingers tracing her pulse and feeling the wild struggle of her heartbeat. "I pull open your shirt. . .I remember seeing buttons fly across the room. . .I hear the sound they make against the tile. . .a sharp clicking that echoes around the room. . .click, click, click. I put my hand to your chest. Your head. . .I cradle your head in my lap." She had her eyes closed, almost looking as if she were in a hypnotic trance, her lids fluttering with the reliving of that pain. "And I know you're going die. Oh. . .Oh God, I don't want it to end like that." She hitched on her breath and opened her eyes, finding Mulder's brown even with her own, his face soft. "It's not going to end like that, Scully. God won't let it end like that," he whispered and placed a gentle kiss to her forehead. She leaned in to him, letting her body rest against the warmth of his. "God won't let it end like that," she whispered and hugged him tightly. ~~~~ end adios RM ~~~~~~~~~~ "In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." --Matthew 5:16 ~~~~~~~~~~ http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Shire/5007/ Come check out my web page ~~~~~~~~~~