From: ephemeral@ephemeralfic.org
Date: Mon, 2 Aug 1999 23:07:42 -0500
Subject: Unusual Occurences by JadedDana
Source: direct

Reply To: jadeddana@netscape.net


NEW: Unusual Occurences
 by JadedDana (jadeddana@netscape.net)

Rating: PG
Catagory: S
Spoilers: Redux II
Keywords: Scully/Skinner friendship/UST
Summary: Skinner spends the evening at Scully's after the events of Redux.
Archive: ask me first.
Feedback: please please please!
Disclaimer: They all belong to Chris Carter. All of them. So get over it.

**********
Unusual Occurences 
 by JadedDana
**********


     I just sat down on my couch and turned on the tv to the local news
station when somebody knocks on my door.  Assuming that Mulder was back
again on some lame excuse to make sure I was ok yet again, I simply
holler, "Its open!"  I mean, I was tired.  I didn't want to get up. 
Especially when Mulder is more than capable of getting into my apartment,
open or not.  I hear the door creak, but I keep my face glued to the tv. 
"What is it this time, Mulder?" 
     "Um, just seeing how you're doing, Agent Scully."  Oh.  It's not
Mulder.  It's my boss.  Just great.  I really don't have the energy for
this right now.  I turn around, and sure enough, it is Skinner.  He looks
like he's just left the office; his tie
 is loosened slightly, his shirt just slightly wrinkled, his coat a bit
wet from the rain outside. 
     I smile at him in welcome.  I still feel a bit guilty about
suspecting him of causing my cancer, but the facts did suggest it, and I
couldn't trust anybody.  I want him to know that I do trust him now
though, but I'm not sure how to get that across. 
 Neither of us is good at saying what we feel.  I decide to just start
trusting him and let him figure it out.  He's bright enough.  "Oh, hello
sir!  Please have a seat."  I gesture to the chair next to the sofa. 
"How're you?"  I wonder if he noticed tha t I avoided his implied
question.  Probably; he notices everything.  Oh well, he can ask again if
he really wants to know. 
     He sits and grimaces slightly.  "Well, there's an unbelievable amount
of paperwork involved in bringing Mulder back from the dead, not to
mention the Blevins's death and your...recovery.  Not to mention the fact
that Agents Riley and Atkins just mess ed up a case, causing even MORE
paperwork.  I've got ink stains that will probably never come out, and Kim
is probably ready to shoot me."  Well, that's way more information than I
needed, but I DID ask.  And it's nice to know that he's comfortable enough
 around me to gripe a bit.  "What have you been up to?" 
     Well, since he gave me the whole story, I guess I'll do the same. 
"Trying to convince my mother that I really am going to be fine, and my
brother that Mulder isn't the devil incarnate, and my partner that I'm not
going to die on him the second he tu rns his back, and myself that he's
not going to disappear on me the second I turn MY back.  And I've been
reading, since my doctor won't let me do anything really, and Mulder
always appears when I'm about to 'forget' what the doctor said.  Other
than that , not a lot."  I bet that's more than he wanted to know, but he
asked. 
     "Does the doctor think you'll be ready to be back on duty next week?" 
Ah, that's why he's here.  He wants to know if I get desk duty when I come
back to work on Monday.  He probably has some case that he needs us on,
but is afraid to send Mulder on alone.  That's a reasonable fear,
actually.  He always gets in trouble when he's by himself. 
     "He said I shouldn't be chasing suspects for another week if I can
help it, just to be sure.  I'm fine, though.  It's just a doctor thing." 
I'm sick of doing nothing.  I've been basically confined to my apartment
for the past week, and I feel like I
 could do anything.  Its frustrating to be suddenly given back your life,
and then told by everyone to just rest for a while.  I don't want to rest;
I want to taste the life I've just been given back.  I tell myself that
I'll have plenty of time to savor it, but I still feel restless and a bit
resentful. 
     "Well, I think I can find something without too many chase scenes in
it; I wouldn't want you to wind up in the hospital again.  I don't think I
could handle anymore paperwork."  He has a strange expression on his face;
after a moment I realize that h e looks...happy.  I've never seen him
happy.  He's always mad at Mulder or worried about us both or just plain
frustrated at life.  I know he's a bit uncomfortable just saying he's
worried about me; that's what all this talk of paperwork is.  I'm not that
 good about expressing concern either, except for Mulder.  But Mulder is
the exception in everything. 
     I am about to say something about how Mulder causes more paperwork
than the IRS when the doorbell rings.  "That's probably the delivery guy,
or Mulder.  Could you get it?"  I'm just too comfortable to move.  He nods
and gets up, answers the door.  It
 is the delivery guy, with my extra cheese, extra sauce meatlover's pizza. 
That is not what I normally eat; the cholesterol from one meal could give
someone heart failure, but I'm in the mood for something unusual.  I tell
Skinner where I put the money f or the pizza, and he pays.  Its nice
having somebody around; I still haven't had to move.  After the delivery
guy leaves, he puts the pizza on my coffee table and looks like he's about
to leave.  I make a snap decision.  "Sir, would you care to stay?  Thi s
pizza's way too big for just me." 
     He looks a bit startled, but he looks happy at my offer.  "It's not
vegetarian, is it?" I shake my head, and he grins a bit.  It's very
strange to see him un-angry.  I wish I had a camera; Mulder will never
believe it otherwise.  "Then sure!"  He tak es off his coat, and I motion
towards the far end of the couch.  I may be the worst host of all time,
but I don't care; I'm not moving. 
     "I've got sodas in the fridge; could I convince you to get me a
Pepsi?"  He nods and heads towards the kitchen after tossing his coat on
the couch.  I wouldn't have thought Skinner would be so careless with his
clothes, but I guess not everybody is a s careful of their wardrobe as I
am.  I know Mulder's not.  Skinner comes back carrying my Pepsi and a dr.
pepper. 
     "Scully, is there any type of soda that's not in your refrigerator?"
I like a variety.  I suppose its not really normal to have 15 different
types of soda at once, not to mention my juices, beers and wines.  But it
feels really good to joke a bit; li fe's been way too serious lately. 
     "Yes sir; I won't touch that new Surge junk; it's pure sugar, and
there's no way I would ever let Agent Mulder have a sip of it."  I open
the pizza box and inhale the scent of pizza.  It's wonderful.  I take a
slice as Skinner sits down, this time on
 the far end of the couch.  I guess it gives him better access to the
pizza.  There's still plenty of space, though.  He's much more careful of
my personal space than Mulder is.  In fact, he's just more careful than
Mulder is about everything. 
     The news ended, and some movie came on.  I recognized it after a
moment as Arsenic and Old Lace, an old Cary Grant film.  It's absolutely
hilarious.  Just what I need tonight.  Skinner takes off his tie and rolls
up his sleeves before picking up a sl ice of pizza.  He starts to say
something, but I shush him as the movie really starts.  So we just sit
there, watching the movie and eating pizza.  It's kind of strange, doing
something this...friend-like with my boss, but it doesn't feel akward,
just unu sual.  I think I could get used to it, though.  He's much quieter
during a movie than Mulder. 
     About half way through the film, when Jonathan comes back, I feel
Skinner's eyes glance my way, and then he practically radiates concern. 
"Scully!" I turn, and he runs his hand under my nose.  His hand comes
away, with something red on it. 
     I begin to panic, and then I laugh.  "Its just sauce."  He looks a
bit panicky for a moment longer, and then he laughs too.  He reaches out
again, and I feel his large hand brush my lips as he wipes away the rest
of the sauce.  I'm amazed at how gent ly his hand touches me; not even
Mulder is that careful. 
     "You should be more careful; it scared me to death."  His voice is
very soothing; how come I never noticed that before? I can feel my lip
burning where he brushed it.  What is going on here? 
     A loud scream from the tv breaks the tension between us.  I turn back
to the screen, and watch the rest of the movie without taking my eyes of
it once.  I don't really see it, though.  I'm a bit busy wondering what
just happened.  I'm a bit too tired
 to spend too much time worrying about it, though.  By the time the
credits start rolling, my eyes are half closed.  I feel the couch shift as
Skinner gets up and throws away the pizza box and the empty pop cans.  I'm
a bit surprised; Mulder never does th at.  But Skinner is not Mulder.  I'm
even more surprised when he covers me with the afghan from the chair. 
Nobody has done that for me since I moved out of my mother's.  "Good
night, Scully."  He picks up his jacket and tie, and goes to the door. 
     Just before he leaves, I manage to mumble, "Night, sir."  He smiles,
I think, and then leaves.  I think he locked the door on his way out.  I
just drift off to sleep right there on the couch, feeling more relaxed and
safe than I have in a long time. 

The End.