From: "Susan Moritz" Date: Thu, 23 Sep 1999 10:39:18 PDT Subject: story submissions Source: direct Title: The Usual Bouquet Author: Susan O. Moritz Classification: Mrs. Mulder Angst/Humor Distribution: Fluky? Rating: G Summary: Mrs. Mulder receives a disturbing message on her answering machine. Authors Note: Practically all the fanfic I have read paints Mrs. Mulder in a bad light. I don't think she is a bad person. Mrs. Mulder loves her son and he loves her. She has suffered a lot and just tends to hide her feelings like Scully. I like these family episodes (okay I like all the episodes?) and would like to see one with Scully's MIA brother, Charles. What would he think of Mulder? I 'm curious. I'm getting off my soapbox now? Sorry? The Usual Bouquet By: Susan O. Moritz "If there is anything that we wish to change in the child, we should first examine it and see whether it is not something that could better be changed in ourselves."-Carl Jung Mrs. Mulder pressed the stop button on her answering machine. She'd listened to her son's partner's message to her at least ten times already. What was his partner's name again? Scully was the last name, but what was the first? Her son only used her last name when he spoke about her. Dana? Dana Scully. That was it. Mrs. Mulder sat down and sighed. Her memory and stamina never fully recovered from her stroke. She picked up the phone and dialed a florist shop in D.C. "Hello. Perfect Petals. How may I help you?" said a perky woman's voice. "Yes, I would like to speak to Daria, please," said Mrs. Mulder. "Hold on one moment while I get her." The wait was only a few seconds, but to Mrs. Mulder it seemed like a lifetime. She had to mentally shut out the horrible images that were slipping into her mind. "This is Daria. Can I help you?" "Hello, Daria. This is Teena Mulder." "Hey Mrs. Mulder! How are you doing? It must be at least a couple of months since we last spoke." Mrs. Mulder smiled slightly. "Yes it has been. Normally we speak more often that that don't we?" "Now what can I do for you today. Let me guess it's your son again? What has he done this time? Don't tell me that he's in the hospital." "Unfortunately the answer is yes. His partner just left a message on my machine. It appears he was shot on the job again. He just got out of surgery and is expected to make a full recovery," Mrs. Mulder explained. Daria gave a low whistle. "I'm so sorry he got shot, but I'm glad he's okay. Let me tell you, your son has more lives that a cat." Mrs. Mulder smiled and shook her head. How right this woman was. "Should I get ready the usual bouquet of flowers and have it delivered?" "That would be great, Daria. Thank you." "No problem. I'll just send the bill to your house as usual. Your son is going to put you in the poor house with all the money you spend on sending flowers to him. Will you be coming down here to see him this time?" "No. I'll just stay here. I can't really drive great distances in the car after the stroke and besides, by the time I got down there he'd be out of the hospital and off on another assignment. I know he's in the best hands since his partner's a doctor. They're pretty close and I know she'll make sure everything that is best will be done," explained Mrs. Mulder. "So they're pretty close, eh?" said Daria in a sly voice. "Mrs. Mulder laughed out loud. "I know what you're thinking and it's not like that. They've worked together for several years. Fox, doesn't really talk to me much about his work, but I can tell that his partner is a big part of his life and its very special to him. Perhaps someday..." Mrs. Mulder's happy thoughts trailed off as she though about herself surrounded by grandchildren. Daria laughed breaking into Mrs. Mulder's thoughts. "So what's her name? "Scully. Actually her first name is Dana but Fox insists on calling her by her last name. She calls him Mulder." "That's a little bizarre, but it's bizarre in a cute way. `How bizarre? How bizarre?' So why don't you call him by his last name?" questioned Daria. Mrs. Mulder sighed at this bone of contention between herself and her son. "He asked me to call him Mulder but I still call him Fox. It's a perfectly good name that I choose for him and I think he should use it. I wanted to give him a name that was different. Boy's names can be so dull and repetitious. In one of my classes in grade school we had three Michael's and two Timothy's. Unfortunately I think his classmates teased him about it when he was little and he didn't want to use it anymore." "Children can be so cruel," Daria said. "Yes so I didn't make that mistake when I named my other...well never mind about that," finished Mrs. Mulder blinking back tears. After all these years the pain of losing her daughter, Samantha, had never fully diminished and never would. Daria, sensing Mrs. Mulder need to assimilate her son's close encounter with the next world, decided it was time to wrap things up. Daria was always amazed at Mrs. Mulder's strength in the face of perhaps one day getting a phone call telling her of her son's death. "Well I hope your son makes a fast and smooth recovery. Would you like anything special to be written on the card or should I write the usual?" Suddenly an idea hit Mrs. Mulder. "No. Could you please write, `Mulder-Hope you're feeling better soon. Love, Mom.' Could you write that?" Daria smiled. "If that's what the customer wants, that's what the customer gets. Hey and if you are ever in town visiting your son you should stop by." Mrs. Mulder smiling said, "I'll definitely stop by if I'm ever in town. I don't know why but Fox usually insists on my staying up here, because for some reason he thinks it's safer. Besides, I'd have to get a hotel room. You should see his apartment! He doesn't even own a bed that I know of! We'll I could go on but I'm sure you have other things to do." "Well I should be getting back to my customers. I always enjoy taking with you though and hope to do it again soon but under pleasanter circumstances. Perhaps a wedding..." "You're incorrigible. Thanks for everything." "You're very welcome." "Good-bye." "Bye." Mrs. Mulder felt better as she hung up the phone. She may not be able to be with her son, but she had sent him her love and she was certain he would understand the gift. ------=_NextPart_000_1d494d_5d6c95a2$47846ce3 Content-Type: text/plain; name="Perspective.txt" Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Content-Disposition: attachment; filename="Perspective.txt" Title: Perspective Author: Susan O. Moritz Category: Fluky Spoilers: Tempus Fugit, Max, Two Sons, One Son Rating: PG Content: Humor Summary: Our perspectives color the way we remember things Disclaimer:If anybody thinks I own the X-Files, (which I don't) where have they been for the last six years? Perspective By: Susan O. Moritz "I know death hath ten thousand several doors for men to take their exits."-John Webster "That's the thing about life...or maybe I mean about death...okay how about dying relatively young. That the thing about dying relatively young it's...okay I know I have absolutely no idea what I am trying to say," says the man. "Let me begin again. One day there I am in a nice, respectable D.C. bar called the Headless Woman Bar full of professionals catching that last drink before hopping on the Metro to get home. So there I am with some buddies of mine from the FBI and I'm a little tipsy." "A little tipsy?" a female voice scoffs. "Anyway," continues the man, "I see this woman from work that I know and let me tell you I had the biggest crush on her." "You still do and I don't want to hear this story again!" says the woman. The man ignores the woman and continues his story. "Turns out that it was her birthday and I had just found out from my friends. So there she was and I didn't have a gift for her, so I offered to buy her a drink. She was playing a little hard to get by telling me she was with someone. I followed her gaze and saw that she was not with her partner, but was with some two-bit military guy whom I knew I was better than any day of the week. Now office rumor mill said that there was something more going on between my hottie and her partner. I knew they were close, but not that kind of close. This only proved my point. Now where was I?" "You're a nice guy," says the woman in a voice lacking all emotion. "That's right! I'm a nice guy so I offered to buy the man a drink too, which she accepted. So I buy the drinks and am winding through the people, it was rather crowded that night, to the table where they were sitting. Suddenly, a psycho pulled his gun out! Now as my beautiful and smart colleague was pulling out her own weapon, the psycho fired. I knew she wouldn't be able to get a shot off before his struck her so, headless of my own safety and well-being, I hurled myself in front of her and bullet hit me straight in the chest," the man concludes smacking his chest for emphasis. But he isn't finished telling the story just yet. "She, being a doctor as well as an FBI agent, frantically tried to save me, which, of course, failed as you can see. She tried to put up a brave front telling me to hold on and that I still owed her a birthday drink. I guess that some things were never meant to be," he sighs. Finally the woman cannot stand it anymore. She goes up to the storyteller and lightly smacks him upside the head and says, "Pendrell, you know my sister only has eyes for one man and it's not you." "Can't a man have his dreams, Missy," Pendrell says with a smile. Pendrell turns to face the new guy to whom he has been relating his death. "So how did you wind up here?" The man looks him and says deadpan, "My Father shot me." Pendrell is at a loss for words. Before he can get out a heartfelt apology, an older woman approaches smiling. She embraces the man whose father shot him. "Come on, Jeffery, let's go meet some of the others." "Mom," Spender says smiling. "I'm so glad you're here." They walk off together leaving Sean Pendrell and Melissa Scully alone together. Missy breaks the silence; "Hey Pendrell I think I see most of the Syndicate headed this way. I'm sure they'd love to hear the story of your death." "Very funny, Missy. Very funny."