From: Laurel Krahn Date: Tue, 23 Mar 1999 17:17:33 GMT Subject: NEW: "Wear" Title: "Wear" Author: Laurel Krahn E-Mail address: laurel@pobox.com Rating: PG Category: Vignette Spoilers: Quagmire, Detour, Fight the Future Keywords: Mulder/Scully friendship, Mulder/Scully UST, Scully POV Summary: A phone conversation between Mulder and Scully. Archive: Ephemeral, yes. Others, please ask first. "What are you wearing?" "Blue satin button down two-piece pajamas. What are you wearing?" A definite pause. She'd diverged from their usual script and Mulder was startled, she was sure of it. Where was the usual joke? Why had she answered him like that? Why not? Okay, so maybe she was a little curious just to see how he'd react. Maybe she liked giving him pause (she always had). "Grey t-shirt, black shorts. Why do you ask?" "You started it, Mulder." He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess I did ask, didn't I?" Another pause, she found herself listening to him breathe. Scully realized it was her turn to say something. What? Did it matter? Somehow silence with Mulder, even on the phone, didn't phase her. It was comfortable, after all. She heard him move, pictured him leaning back on that couch of his. He sighed, "What are we doing, Scully?" "Talking on the phone, Mulder. We do this a lot, if you recall." Why was she being difficult tonight? They hadn't fought, hadn't had any out-of-the-ordinary (at least for them) experiences of late. Was she being difficult? Was she teasing him? She honestly had no motives that she could discern. She knew their conversation was wrapping up and perhaps this was her way of prolonging it. But why? "Mulder--" "Mmm-hmm?" "Remember that time you made me sing to you?" "How could I forget." She waited for him to crack a joke . . . he didn't. Now it was his turn to diverge from their usual dance. And she forgot what her point was in the first place. "What about it, Scully?" Yeah. What about it, Scully? What could she say? That was fun!? Heh. Yeah, chasing Moth Men or whatever they were sure made her day. Nothing like seeing Mulder in shock and wounded. Being stranded in the woods. Falling into a pit full of bodies. Yeehaw. Still . . . she took a chance-- "That was nice, Mulder." He chuckled quietly. "I thought you hated to sing." "Well, I hate the sound of my voice." "It wasn't that bad, Scully." Another long pause. "And *thank you*." He emphasized those last words in a way that made Scully feel on the verge of tears. He did know what she meant, she was right after all. She tried to place the same emphasis on the words when she said them to him, "Thank YOU, Mulder." "Scull--" "Mul--" Yeah, they were talking at once. Then chuckling together. Scully started first, this time: "You know what, Mulder? I was going to say 'Hey, that was fun, wasn't it?' but then I remember the part about the--" "Moth Men?" Mulder interrupted. She smiled. "Yeah. Er. Well, whatever they were. I'm sure--" "--there's a scientific explanation. I know, Scully." She could feel his smile through the phone, she let him get away with it 'cuz she was smiling a bit herself. And he didn't smile enough for her tastes. "I know what you mean, Scully. It's easy sometimes to obsess over the horrific things we've seen, all the nasty stuff we've been through. Lord knows I lose myself in it sometimes. But I do remember the fun, too, you know. It's in there somewhere . . . " He trailed off, she listened to Mulder breathe some more. She waited, she knew he wasn't finished and she feared if she interrupted she'd fall back into jokes again and this moment would pass. Okay, maybe she was just being chicken. His breathing seemed faster than before, maybe he was worried. So she spoke: "I do know what you mean, Mulder. I hope you know that. That's what I was trying to say earlier, though I wasn't doing too well. I'm not generally good at this-- whatever this is." Scully paused, took a deep breath, and a plunge: "I know you feel a lot of guilt, Mulder. For some of those horrific things that have happened. I hate that you do. I chose to work with you on this stuff. I'm here because I want to be here. And it's largely because of those moments-- these moments-- that I'm still here. Other people might think me crazy, but that conversation by my . . . uh . . . " "Campfire?" "Yeah, that's the ticket, Mulder." She was smiling, she knew he was too. "And--" "the time on the rock after Big Blue trashed our boat." "There was no Big Blue, Mulder." "Sure. Fine. Whatever." She laughed, he laughed. Scully wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and settled down further into her couch. "You know what I mean, don't you Mulder?" "Yeah Scully, I do. More than you know. And I'm really glad to hear confirmation that we're--" "--on the same page?" Now she was finishing his sentences. He chuckled. "Yeah, Scully. I guess that's one way of putting it. When you almost left . . . I was afraid you didn't feel the same way. That it wasn't enough. And I really feel like I've been a collosal shortsighted jerk who hasn't told you enough how much it means that you're here with me. I really couldn't do it without you, you know." "Well Mulder--" she thought of a bunch of sarcastic remarks, she couldn't help it. But she knew in this moment, it wouldn't work, that those words could hurt just now, when they were both being so open, having one of "those moments" that it turned out mattered a lot to both of them. "Well what, Scully?" "Well Mulder, I do know now. And I think I knew then, too, but I was feeling insecure and frustrated and tired and even a bit scared. You aren't the only one who worries, you know." Silence, another long pause. Mulder and Scully listened to each other breathe. "I--" "I--" They were talking at the same time again, then laughing a bit awkwardly, she was even blushing a bit, she could feel it. What was she going to say? Who was she kidding? She knew what she wanted to say, what she always wanted to say, what she said (or at least hoped she said) when she stood at his side, watched his back, held his hand, tried to find reasonable scientific explanations to refute his crazy theories, smiled at his jokes. "Words aren't enough, are they Mulder?" "I think the only times we really need them are when we aren't together." "You sure about that, Mulder? Somehow I don't think Skinner would appreciate us standing silent in his office without any words ever. Then again--" "-- he might find that an improvement." Mulder laughed, as he finished yet another sentence for her. Were he with her, she'd punch him playfully on the arm. Were he here . . . Almost-silence again, no words, just breath. She imagined she could hear his heartbeat, surely he must hear hers. "I--" "I--" Pause. "I know, Scully. I do, too." "That was my line, Mulder." "Scully." How could she ever doubt when he said her name like that? "Mulder." I hope he hears it in my voice, too. How could he not? "Hey Scully . . ." "Yes, Mulder?" "What are you wearing?" ..... Author's note: My first fanfic, my first fanfic post. I've been a closet reader of fanfic for several months now. I owe so many folks so much feedback (and yes, I will get around to it soon). I'm best at writing dialogue, but I found writing this that I feel really rusty at writing fiction. Oh well. I hope someone enjoys this. I suspect it was inspired by watching "Detour" this past weekend. And I've been revisiting a lot of early episodes and reading a lot of good fan fiction. I suspect romos and noromos can like this, at least I hope so. Read into it what you will (as if I had to tell you that). I was going to title this "Wearing," but I spied a story that already had that title someplace when I went to doublecheck. Drat. But I think "Wear" works. I, of course, thought of "Wear and Tear," but that sounds too tortuous or slashy or smutty or something. Laurel Krahn (laurel@pobox.com) http://www.windowseat.org/