From netnews.upenn.edu!msunews!uwm.edu!spool.mu.edu!howland.reston.ans.net!news2.near.net!news.delphi.com!gyrfalcon Fri Feb 17 13:18:08 1995
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From: gyrfalcon@delphi.com (Gerri Oliver)
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Story - Untitled- Anonymous
Date: 17 Feb 1995 09:40:38 GMT
Organization: Delphi Internet Services Corporation
Lines: 420
Message-ID: <9502170400591.DLITE.gyrfalcon@delphi.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: bos1d.delphi.com
X-To: Gerri Oliver <gyrfalcon@delphi.com>

This is a story by a lurker who wants to remain anonymous, for reasons that,
while I don't agree with totally, are the authors own. :)
I have the honor of being trusted to post this for that author.
This isn't a post for anyone on AOL, but the author contacted me through
the mail and asked for my help. So please respond to this story here or if
your not comfortable doing so, send them to me and I will forward them on
to the author. I think you'll enjoy it, I did.               Gerri 
*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *


Hello :

  I've been lurking around here for sometime now.  This is the 
first time I've penned anything non-techie since Creative Writing 
101.  Something *very* light.
  Familiar themes that have been hashed elsewhere already, no 
plagiarism intended, I don't do this for a living and this, for me,
is all in fun.
  No title yet, feel free to provide one. Feedback welcomed, don't 
worry about being blunt, since I've already been roundly flamed by 
my better half - Scully does NOT drive a blue car, Mulder does NOT
drive a Crown Victoria, Mulder would NOT say "wimp", ad nauseum. 
  So why am I posting, acutely aware as I am of flaws?
  Well, what is pleasure unshared? - I really enjoyed dreaming 
this up.

  No, don't worry, I'm not about to quit my DBA job.

anon


NOTITLE

                     * * * * * * * *
 
FBI Headquarters
Washington D.C.

  Mulder's mood contrasts with the mute lighting of the office he
enters and his greeting to the woman already seated at her desk
is half mocking and almost cheerful, "Good morning, Agent Scully."

  Looking up from a case file, Scully is sombre as she closes and
hands it to Mulder, "I've been waiting for you.  I need you to look
at this." 

  He raised an eyebrow at her abruptness.  "What? No - Good Morning, 
Agent Mulder.  How are you, Agent Mulder?"
  That met with a dismal response as well, giving up, he quickly 
thumbed through the file.
  "Charles Grey.  I remember this case; four years ago there were 
a series of killings between here and Florida that the Bureau was 
finally able to pin on him."

  Scully half turned away. "I testified at his trial."

  That, he hadn't known.  He raised an eyebrow enquiringly and 
waited for her to continue, intrigued by her story as well as this 
mood of hers that was quite foreign to him.

  "I was fresh out of the academy.  My very first case and I 
performed the autopsies, collecting trace evidence that eventually 
led to his arrest and conviction."

  "That sounds like a fine piece of forensic work.  But why are 
you so nervous?"  

  "At the trial, after I left the witness stand, he threatened 
me.  I'll never forget his eyes, the hate.  Mulder, they called 
me last night.  He's escaped from the asylum he was committed to."  

  Her voice trembled only slightly, but Mulder picked it up.  
Even as he watched, she was visibly steeling herself, pushing 
her apprehension away.  Scully was closer to him than anyone 
since Sa ... But that was a long time ago.  At this moment, he 
felt miles away from her, as alone as ever.  
  He understood, and didn't, her constant need to shield herself, 
why she kept her professional facade up even though he had often 
tried to let her know that between them, no games need be played.
But he only said, "Do they have any leads on where he might be?"

  "No leads yet.  The Bureau and his attending psychiatrist are 
working on a current profile and they've put out APB's in 
four states.  They'll catch him."  She smiled faintly. 
"Wishful thinking?"  

  "No.  Your reaction to this is perfectly normal under the 
circumstances.  You are right to be concerned and you're right 
that they'll catch him.  He doesn't stand a chance, he's just 
escaped from an institution, has no resources, he can't hold 
out long against a manhunt."

  As he talked, she seemed more and more her normal self. 
Mulder wondered again at her mental strength.  Often, he had 
watched her steel herself in difficult situations and always, 
she gained the upper hand in controlling her emotions.  
He smiled secretly to himself, her mantra was probably, "I can 
handle it."

  On the other hand, he was not sure that it was entirely 
healthy and wished that she would confide in him, in *someone*.  
Especially after the abduction.  Thinking about it still brought 
back the pain and desperation he had felt then, a pain the 
intensity of which had shocked even himself and had made him 
grapple with what, exactly, Special Agent Scully meant to him.

  She would never know the conclusions he had drawn.  Not while 
they were partners, ever.  He had decided that he would content 
himself with being close to her, protecting her, working together, 
trusting her and enjoying her trust in turn.  He sighed ... huh, 
protect her, as if she'd let him.  Not wanting to continue this 
train of thought while she was around, he quickly turned his 
attention to the case file.

                          * * * * * *

  The man was ordinary looking, as ordinary looking as any 
transient could be.  What distinguished him and set him apart 
were his eyes.  A store cashier where he'd stopped to get 
something to eat had looked at them and had to quickly look 
away, suddenly afraid.  They were obsessed, haunted by a three 
year old fixation.  

  They said he was insane, but no, he had kept his sanity by 
constantly replaying what he would do to her.  That cold bitch, 
who, with her testimony, had put him away in that dark, pitiless 
place they called an asylum.  She was closer, he could feel her, 
soon he would put his fixation to rest ....

                          * * * * * *

  Mulder was worried.  Very.  He'd spent most of the morning 
studying Charles Grey and he was extremely unhappy with what 
he saw.  Picking up his notepad for the umpteenth time, he 
stared at his scribbles.  Obsessive.  Fixated.  Stalker.

  He looked toward his partner who was absorbed in some case 
file and said as casually as he could, "Scully."

  "Hmm?"

  "You know, if we don't hear anything about Grey by the end of 
today, maybe you should stay over at your Mom's."

  Half incredulous, slightly irritated, "Mulder, I know what 
you're thinking. I appreciate your concern, but I have to deal 
with this myself.  I was nervous but I'm okay now.  Talking to 
you has helped.  Really."

  "Scully, Grey is obsessive.  If he's threatened you, it's 
entirely probable that he's held onto that and he may well 
come after you.  At least consider it."

  "May, Mulder, may.  That's a pretty long stretch, and there's 
no way I'm letting a remote possibility intimidate me.  Please, 
drop it."  Resolutely, she turned back to the file she had been 
studying.

                      * * * * * * 
 
Ext. Scully's apartment, early evening.

  He waited, his eyes hungry.  He had followed her career all 
this time and had patiently waited for this very moment.  He 
caressed the .45 in his pocket and tucked his chin further into 
his turned up coat collar.  He'd even phoned to make sure she was 
in town, calling for no reason then hanging up when she'd answered.
Not long now ...

  A blue car drew up, slowed down and he saw a flash of auburn 
hair.  He didn't notice a silver grey Crown Victoria about a block 
down, so focussed was he on the driver of the blue car.

                      * * * * * * 

  Mulder felt foolish and guilty.  "What am I doing?  Scully'll 
have me for lunch if she finds out I'm following her around."  
He'd decided to make sure that she at least got home safely after 
more futile attempts to get her to stay with someone.  In 
desperation, he'd even suggested they pick up a movie and order 
pizza just so he could be with her a little while to make sure 
she was alright.  Scully had been exasperated and adamant in her 
refusal. He could have predicted that, she was the most 
single-minded, independant person he had known in his life.

  As the day wore on, sightings of a person matching Grey's 
description had been reported in Southern Florida.  It seemed 
as though Grey were far away; that had relaxed Mulder a little,
but he had to make sure.

  He slowed down as they neared her apartment, pulled over and 
surveyed the scene.  Not much was happening, a few people in 
the street, probably neighbourhood residents going about their 
business.  Then he saw him.  A man quickly getting out of a car, 
his right arm raised.  

  Mulder's heart nearly stopped, then quickened and his mouth went 
dry.  Too slowly, he fumbled at the door at the same time screaming 
his partner's name, "SCULLY!!!"

                      * * * * * * 

  Scully softly hummed a tune as she crossed the street to her
apartment, nodded to a neighbour.  Her mood of this morning was
entirely forgotten and she idly thought about her partner and
wished she'd taken up his offer of pizza and a movie.  One day,
she would, but she wasn't comfortable with that thought yet.  It 
seemed too much like ... a date.  

  She heard her name being screamed.  Half turning, she said, 
"Mulder?" and saw Grey.  Those eyes.  Fear barely registered as 
a series of pop ... pops ... filled the air.  Her last thoughts 
even as her body convulsed with the impact of the bullets were a 
prayer, "Oh God, nooo."

  Scully was badly hurt, unconscious even before she hit the 
ground.

                      * * * * * * 

  Grey turned toward the sound of the scream and saw a man madly
tearing up the street, gun in hand, yelling, "FBI! FBI!"
He fled, pushing his way past people, brandishing his gun giving
second thought to anyone who might have considered tackling him.

                      * * * * * * 

  "Scully," he half sobbed.  He knew he should go after Grey, 
knew that he'd be sorry later that he hadn't, but at this very 
moment, he couldn't leave her. 

  "Someone get an ambulance.  Now!!" 

  He crouched by her, terror in his heart at the amount of blood 
soaking through her trenchcoat.  Taking off his own, he covered 
her with it and used his jacket to gently lay her head on.  
Training automatically made him clamp his hands against the wound 
in her chest over the right breast, but he had seen the crimson 
seeping from wounds in her right side and shoulder as well.

  "Come on Dana, don't wimp out on me, come on."

                      * * * * * * 

  There was no pain after the initial impact, just disorientation
and oh, the noise, it seemed the world was abuzz but the sounds
were hard to distinguish, mostly an awful roaring in her ears. 

  But there was one voice that stood out saying her name over and 
over, admonishing her.  She felt tired, so tired.  It was nice 
here.  Nice and peaceful, if only that person would stop pestering 
her.  Go to a Knicks' game?  Who was it?  She tried to think.

  Oh, of course, Mulder.  He needed her, needed her to look after 
him, rescue him when he dropped his gun, keep his head closer to 
the ground.  Bridge the gap between the X-Files and the rest of the 
Bureau who looked at them as if they were pariahs.  It seemed that 
universal regard for her had made the X-Files somewhat respectable 
in the world's eyes.  If she left now, would they assign him another 
partner?  Another Kryczek?

  But most, he trusted only her, had no one else in his life and 
if she stayed here ...  she couldn't stay.

  The effort was almost too great but she willed herself to open
her eyes.

                      * * * * * * 

  "Hang in there.  I'm here, don't go, Scully."  

  Things had moved fast, an ambulance had arrived, paramedics 
hastily dressed her wounds, hooked on a pack of plasma and bundled 
her into the ambulance.  Miracle of miracles, they let him ride 
in the back.  He gently held her face, now partially obscured by an 
oxygen mask and talked to her, any silly thing that came to his mind.

  They almost lost her once on the way to the hospital.  She was in 
shock, her blood pressure had dropped dangerously low and her heart 
stopped.  His body jerked with hers in her anguish as the paramedics 
applied the defibrillator.  She hung on.

                      * * * * * * 

  She blinked.  A wave of nausea and dizziness swept over her and 
slowly, returned an awareness of her self.  Pain.  Her upper torso
felt as if it had been pounded with a sledgehammer.  Her nose 
tickled her and she tried to raise a hand to scratch it but the 
hand wouldn't obey.  She realized that she was breathing through a 
tube.  What happened?  She tried to remember.  She remembered.  A 
wave of panic rose through her and weakly, she started thrashing, 
trying to rise.  

  Instantly, someone was there, holding her firmly but gently so as
not to hurt her more. "Don't try to move.  Dana, please.  You'll
hurt yourself.  Please.  I'm here."

  Mulder.  She relaxed and focussed on her partner.  She felt safer 
now, trusting him to look after her and gave in to unconsciousness
as she felt lips lightly brush hers.

                      * * * * * * 

  Mulder sat as he had sat for three days, slumped in a chair,
spending every moment that he was not maniacally heading the 
task force hunting Grey by her bedside.  He had driven himself,
concentrating on that task without which he would have broken 
down, giving in to that awful knot in his heart and the terror 
that had consumed him the first twenty four hours and the five 
hours in surgery prior to that while they had not known if Scully 
would pull through.

  They had caught Grey.  It was a letdown, it seemed as though 
taking revenge on Dana Scully was the last thing he wanted to do, 
that done, he hadn't tried very hard to run.  They'd found him in 
the flat of a friend.  When he saw them bursting into the apartment, 
he'd simply raised a gun to his head.

  He wasn't comfortable, they really ought to provide chairs that 
people could *sleep* in.  As he shifted, a movement on the bed 
brought him to his feet.  She seemed distressed. 

  Instantly, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, firmly holding
her by the shoulders.  He wanted to gather her in his arms and
hold her closer, so thankful was he that she was awake.  Not now,
not with her body so badly traumatized and he contented himself 
with gently stroking her hair and saying comforting things to her
as her eyes closed, then reverently, almost reluctantly, he kissed 
her.

  The doctors came and pronounced that she was "resting comfortably"
and that she was probably "out of the woods".

                      * * * * * * 

Four weeks later.
Scully's apartment.

  Scully rested on the couch, her legs extended before her covered 
by an afghan, Mulder on the floor before her leaning back against 
the couch.  They were watching some strange monster from outer space 
movie that neither had seen before and Mulder let out a chuckle as 
yet another building was stomped on.

  "I can't get into this.  This is just too unnatural."

  "I thought you liked movies of this genre?!"

  "I like well made science fiction.  Good science, good fiction. 
That, is neither.  Sorta like Mantis, y'know what I mean."

  "What's that?"

  "Oh, just a show on FOX about a comic book type hero."
He turned serious and turned to face her.  "Sure you're okay for 
tomorrow?"

  "Yes," she replied, nodding vigorously for emphasis.  They'd 
been through this a dozen times since she'd announced her 
intention to return to work.  Mulder had been the soggiest 
blanket.
  "Mulder, I'm alright now.  Even my doctor's given me the go
ahead and he's worse than my mother the way he coddles me."
And, you go way off the scale, she thought silently to herself.

  "Yeah, well, he did deliver you.  Don't you feel like taking 
an extra week off?  You were really ill for a while."  It had 
taken a terrible effort on her part to get well again after she 
had woken up the first time.  Looking at her face and body that 
still bore the signs of that struggle ached him immeasurably.

  When she had been let out of the hospital more than two weeks 
ago, he took it upon himself to care for her, as backup to Margaret 
Scully.  Surprising Dana and himself but not Margaret Scully who 
had smiled, stayed days and withdrawn nights when Mulder came by 
from the office, giving them space.  

  Dana, however, did not know whether to be amused or bemused by her 
partner's efforts.  Mulder, cooking, was hilarious.  His attention, 
giving her his arm to lean on when they went for walks, helping her 
into her jacket while stretching her arm back still strained healing
scar tissue was something else.

  She was touched by his efforts and obvious affection but the 
intimacy left her deeply disturbed.  They'd have to talk, soon, 
but not now.  Not while she felt so overwhelmed and unsure of how
she felt. 

  Tolerate the intimacy?  That was exactly what it was, she 
rationalized, for Mulder's sake.  Whilst she had derived great 
comfort from Mulder's presence during her convalescence, she
was even more aware of Mulder's need to expunge his feelings of
guilt.  The strain and haunted look had been transparent even 
while she was still very sick in hospital.  Almost losing her 
twice in a space of a few months had almost shattered him.
It was obvious that caring for her had worked miracles on 
Mulder and she was glad that she had not objected to his 
being here, no matter how uncomfortable she had felt at times.  
She looked at him now and saw that he was much better and 
felt her heart soar.

  She cleared her throat.  Strange lump there.  "Nothing wrong 
physiologically now, mind you.  I'll turn in, I think.  Big
day tomorrow.  Will you stay tonight?"

  "Sure.  I can't sleep yet, maybe I'll just watch TV till I fall
asleep."

  Dana mumbled under her breath as she got up, "Right.  Big surprise." 


FIN.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 
This story based on series characters created by Chris Carter.
X-Files and Mantis are shown on Fox and are copyrighted by said 
network, I think.  By someone anyway.
The point is - no copyright infringement intended.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = 


